It was a lovely late summer afternoon. The sun was shining brightly the breeze was light and constant. There couldn’t be a more perfect day for me to be working and enjoying this glorious early Autumn weather. I’m doing my thing, earbuds blasting from my playlist. When suddenly I brush up against the fence. Ouch! I have been pierced by a splinter. No time to deal with it now so I keep going.
Upon completion, I load up my equipment and get into the truck. I grab a cold water out of the ice chest and check the site of the injury. It is on my left forearm on the pinkey side. There is a trickle of blood. I attempt to find if any of it is protruding from the wound. No such luck. It’s lodged in there.
I got home and washed it off properly and used a mirror to try to get a better look. I could tell that I was going to have to leave it alone to make its own way out. You see I have some experience with first-aid. My general quarter’s assignment in the Navy was triage and firefighter. Everybody on board is a firefighter. I knew that my body would reject the foreign object and it would come out eventually.
On a side note. Do people, things situations, get under your skin? You cannot be free unless you allow others to be free to be who and what they are without your ideas about what you think is right for them.
It has emerged! 3/4″ long and a sharp little devil.
I notice this on my way home this afternoon. The evidence of the Saint Paul Police Mounted Patrol is in the neighborhood. This actually brings a smile. I love horses and I enjoy seeing them on their companions patrolling events, like today’s historic homes tour.
In other news, I am embarking on a pilgrimage of sorts. It has become painfully apparent the I have no idea, what I want to do. I know I want to help. There is a problem though. I seem to lack passion for anything. I am just finishing No Man is an Island – Thomas Merton and next in the queue is The Alchemist – Paulo Coelho I am praying and meditating on my contribution and the fears I have that interfere with me making a bold move for my own benefit. I will be making updates along the way sharing and soliciting for suggestions and experience from all who care to contribute.
“You can call it fall if that’s what you please…” Barney Song
I’ll leave you all with that for now except for my musical thought for this post.
The sun beating down brightly, as I am focused on the task at hand. Earbuds blasting from the playlist. The hum of the mower’s engine is evident through my body. And yet I remain aware of my surroundings. Yesterday I was working and an unusually large and overgrown lawn when I sensed something. I turned, and there she was scouting what I think is the location of her den.
She was trotting through where I had previously worked stopped looked at me then carried on. I guess I have adapted to my loss of hearing sense (earbuds) and pick up on other queues. I am glad I was able to capture the moment. The toad population is great this year.
I don’t even want to think of what happens to these creatures if pass over them.
I observe all kinds of things and I saw the first snake I have ever witnessed in Minnesota. Scared the crap out of me at first, then I tried to take a picture but it found cover quickly. It was a gartter snake. Do you find thistles as beautiful as I do?
These and so much more to fill my being with wonder at how much life there is beyond our immediate perception.
To be honest with you, I can’t put my finger on it. I’m fairly level headed, open-minded I am committed to improving myself. I still can’t shake the idea that I’ll be found to be unappealing, odd what have you. I am petrified at the thought of putting myself out there and opening myself up for disappointment and ridicule.
I like who I have become. I want to be counted on, to be thought about and anticipated. Perhaps, I should give myself more time. I’m still afraid.
Once I set foot on the path, the destination, became of no concern.
The objective became the experience of all that I encountered on my way
It became clear that it was not I that set foot on the path
But that I have been and am being led
The vistas breathtaking
The obstacles heartbreaking
Each touching my soul in ways destined to transform from bereft to unimaginable abundance
May you find you’re on yours
And by Hold On I mean Let Go!, well loosen your grip just a little. Life sends us little messages in the form of how we feel or what we anticipate we’ll experience. If my experience is any indication, the more my ego is involved in the results, or if I have expectations about the desired outcome, the more self-centered fear plays its role in my emotional well-being, at the moment. In fact, I will have lost touch with now.
Another aspect of experience came to light and it fits perfectly with how, when I do experience irritation or negative feelings. I allow myself to experience them fully and let them pass, instead of doing something to be rid of them. An amazingly talented writer intimated this perfectly in this piece fitfulfearfulphantasmal.wordpress.com/…/hurry-up-and-hurt-me
This is how I view uncomfortable situations and feelings today. Let me have it because my pain is a gateway to growth and character.
In light of the disastrous nature of discourse in the headlines, I am struck with the poignancy of Thomas Merton’s words in this excerpt from No Man Is an Island written in 1955
“I cannot make good choices unless I develop a mature and prudent conscience that gives me an accurate account of my motives, my intentions, and my moral acts. The word to be stressed here is mature. An infant, not having a conscience, is guided in its “decisions” by the attitude of somebody else. The immature conscience is one that bases its judgments partly, or even entirely, on the way other people seem to be disposed toward its decisions. The good is what is admired or accepted by the people it lives with. The evil is what irritates or upsets them. Even when the immature conscience is not entirely dominated by people outside itself, it nevertheless acts only as a representative of some other conscience. The immature conscience is not its own master. It is merely the delegate of the conscience of another person, or of a group, or of a party, or of a social class, or of a nation, or of a race. Therefore, it does not make real moral decisions of its own, it simply parrots the decisions of others. It does not make judgments of its own, it merely “conforms” to the party line. It does not really have motives or intentions of its own. Or if it does, it wrecks them by twisting and rationalizing them to fit the intentions of another. That is not moral freedom. It makes true love impossible. For if I am to love truly and freely, I must be able to give something that is truly my own to another. If my heart does not first belong to me, how can I give it to another? It is not mine to give.”
Woah, just woah! Have I some growing up to do. Just a bit of nutrition I am consuming.