I believe that wherever we are at any moment, whatever is happening, is precisely the raw material for grace. But we can march past a lot of grace before we realize we've must have missed something.
The present moment is the only real time we have. And life is about time, if it is about anything at all. Today my time is spent in Florida watching people, well, use time.
All day I had a sense of crumbling. The peach hotels with plaster dolphins and blue rinse fountains ... crumbling.
Bodies crumbling too. A young woman with a serious disease holding her little boy who laughs into her eyes. Crumbling. A lumpy old man with a horrible scar on his face, lumbering along with who is probably a daughter. A heavy set, powerful looking man of about fifty strutting down the beach with a baby skinned beauty. Hotels with signs that plead for customers. A thousand lost golf balls. All crumbling.
I wonder if I am seeing rightly, or if I am projecting feelings my mother, always an immigrant farmer's daughter, passed on to me. That the world we walk so solidly in is, really, just a flim flam.
Not sure. I will eat some shrimp by the pool and think about it.
1 comment:
I love your thoughts, my wise old guru. They nourish me and help me grow like a healthy meal. :)
Signed,
your little grasshopper
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