The residue comes out in my thoughts and my skin. As if it all had meaning. Plot twists of distant worlds colliding. Everything thrown off axis. A voice I can't distinguish telling me, "I'm still here." Since Thursday, nothing went as planned, and everything somewhat strange. Not bad, but altered.
Doors opening, seeing into someone else's universe, different than mine. Radical generosity. Fierce love. Running all over town. On a long bus ride home, (from an early show...an unexpected wedding reception, and rock-aroke jam, a gutsy one at that) a man ranting, realizing it was only to himself, the predominant mood of the entire bus was one of compassion, and I realized also that in my normal daily routes, that wouldn't be the case, we need too much control, more calculated in what we give, we want to know the outcome first. Today, walking home from a memorial service (for someone who embodied openness and love to me, someone who recognized people mattered more than things, and practiced that) a man beckoned me into his shop, offering food. We talked about tennis, he fed me garbanzo beans, translated poetry to me. When I got up to leave he said, "What we have is meant to share. Ten percent won't hurt you any to give up, if you have, you share what you have." Seeing what love looks like. Radical generosity. Love. And it's not that it's not always there, it's that if you just swim in the sea without noticing the details, you mostly see greed and fear, but if you look closer, at an individual level, the opposite is more true.
Holding all the things that matter: Not for sale.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment