The world is round. So said my Hutterite friend last summer*. So said I to my Polish friend last week. Good things happen; bad things happen. Things happen. Things happen to us. We make things happen. When we struggle, things become difficult. Generally, when we run with the rhythm of life, in the current of positive thought and deed, good happenings occur easily.
I'm trapped somewhere between the world of sinner and saint, closer to sinner by far, and in this lonesome stretch of highway, there seems to be a lull in the proceedings. At least in the things that I "want" to fall into my world. Like about $10 grand to dig my way out of the stressful hole that I slowly but methodically dug these past few months/years...
I'm online today, seeking out career changes, educational opportunities, even work opportunities... Stressing over fines and bills and "stuff" and bullshit. Worried about the future, when really.. Really, the only work I have before me today is to not pick up dope.
And to not worry about setting my net for jobs and income when I still have fish to clean from my last catch.
Everything will come when it is supposed to. Just keep my side of the street clean.
My heart beats harder at this realization. The tears well up. They call this "surrender"...A ti me rindo. "To you I rend."
Letting go of the panicky hustle I have conditioned myself to do and just doing what's in front of me.
(sigh)...
Ok.. For now this will have to do.
Right now I have hungry kids in front of me!
xox.
S.
*Piscescree Blogspot - "It's Always Something," April 2013
let love guide you to the freedom you deserve...
Showing posts with label Hutterites. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hutterites. Show all posts
Monday, August 26, 2013
Monday, April 15, 2013
It's Always Something...
Today is a good day. Aren't they all? Despite some idiots killing two in Boston, and injuring 23 others during the marathon, today is still a good day. Some light is shining on the Liberals for a change, and methinks these Conservative pricks are beginning their full bore implosion.
Sad that folks think that killing multiple people is a good way to accomplish anything. I suppose I'm coming out with opinion too early - I've not yet heard the reason for the explosives, so they very well could have been just for the sake of hurting people, with no political overtones.
In any case, there's always something.
Something black, something blue, something hurtin', something true. Something up and something down, something square and something round.
I was nearly out of gas one time I was on "a run" ... traipsing around central Alberta with the ol' 4x4, taking backroads and range roads, getting high and trying to keep away from "them" (whoever THEY are!) and ended up on fumes somewhere between Westlock and Edmonton.
I knew I wasn't going to make it home. I trundled into the Hutterite colony, it was near 6 pm, supper hour, and Hutterites don't mess around when it's supper hour. Work stops, grace is said and bread is broken. I pulled up to the big fuel tanks and an old feller saw me there and came out of his house. I approached him, explaining that I left my wallet in Slave Lake and was on my way home; that I needed $20 in fuel to get home.
"That's a good story," he said. "We'll see what we can do."
It was a short time later, the work foreman tracked down the fuel key and was pumping a quarter tank into my truck. Me, so grateful and humbled and sobering now, I said, "thanks so much. I will have a new bank card tomorrow and can come back here and pay you back." half telling the truth, sincerely meaning it, but not sure if it was gonna happen.
"Not to worry," said he. A young mid-thirties Hutterite whose name escapes me, smiling at me and my rugged ol' Avalanche. "The world is round. Someday I may need something. You may help me. The world is round."
The world is round.
So it is.
Sometimes pain and misery and sadness overwhelm us. Sometimes events transpire to break us, to weaken us and to cause us to lose hope. Other times, we sail, as if on a heavenly wave of serendipity and grace, seemingly unable to do wrong or weaken. Hope is all around.
Up and down, back and forth; within our families and our circles, our friends and our acquaintances. An endless dance of blessings, broken hearts, tears and laughter.
This is our life. A circle, a dance. Happy, sad, joyful, sorrowful all at once.
Today my son John woke with a $5 bill under his pillow - the first of the twins' teeth to meet our top drawer (that is where the tooth fairy stashes teeth don't you know!). Today Justin Trudeau woke with the weight of the compassionate Canadian world on his shoulders. Today someone in Massachusetts or nearby woke thinking, "Today is the day. My mark on the world to be emblazoned forever..." as they placed their explosives.
Tomorrow, who knows. But I do know this: The world is round.
Sad that folks think that killing multiple people is a good way to accomplish anything. I suppose I'm coming out with opinion too early - I've not yet heard the reason for the explosives, so they very well could have been just for the sake of hurting people, with no political overtones.
In any case, there's always something.
Something black, something blue, something hurtin', something true. Something up and something down, something square and something round.
I was nearly out of gas one time I was on "a run" ... traipsing around central Alberta with the ol' 4x4, taking backroads and range roads, getting high and trying to keep away from "them" (whoever THEY are!) and ended up on fumes somewhere between Westlock and Edmonton.
I knew I wasn't going to make it home. I trundled into the Hutterite colony, it was near 6 pm, supper hour, and Hutterites don't mess around when it's supper hour. Work stops, grace is said and bread is broken. I pulled up to the big fuel tanks and an old feller saw me there and came out of his house. I approached him, explaining that I left my wallet in Slave Lake and was on my way home; that I needed $20 in fuel to get home.
"That's a good story," he said. "We'll see what we can do."
It was a short time later, the work foreman tracked down the fuel key and was pumping a quarter tank into my truck. Me, so grateful and humbled and sobering now, I said, "thanks so much. I will have a new bank card tomorrow and can come back here and pay you back." half telling the truth, sincerely meaning it, but not sure if it was gonna happen.
"Not to worry," said he. A young mid-thirties Hutterite whose name escapes me, smiling at me and my rugged ol' Avalanche. "The world is round. Someday I may need something. You may help me. The world is round."
The world is round.
So it is.
Sometimes pain and misery and sadness overwhelm us. Sometimes events transpire to break us, to weaken us and to cause us to lose hope. Other times, we sail, as if on a heavenly wave of serendipity and grace, seemingly unable to do wrong or weaken. Hope is all around.
Up and down, back and forth; within our families and our circles, our friends and our acquaintances. An endless dance of blessings, broken hearts, tears and laughter.
This is our life. A circle, a dance. Happy, sad, joyful, sorrowful all at once.
Today my son John woke with a $5 bill under his pillow - the first of the twins' teeth to meet our top drawer (that is where the tooth fairy stashes teeth don't you know!). Today Justin Trudeau woke with the weight of the compassionate Canadian world on his shoulders. Today someone in Massachusetts or nearby woke thinking, "Today is the day. My mark on the world to be emblazoned forever..." as they placed their explosives.
Tomorrow, who knows. But I do know this: The world is round.
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