Sacred Serendipity?
(A Rebel,
Rascal, Rogue Transgression-Confession)
To know the:
Who? What? Where? When? How? And, Why?
Is to understand
the story in its entirety! Bon Chance! Mon Amie!
Who?
(Indeed!---Who?)
An
independent individual! By birth. By nature. By purposeful intention. To be
sure!
A
simple pilgrim. By design; through refine; in resign. Humble. Honest. Humorous.
Requiring
neither celebrity nor notoriety;
shunning any limelight; eschewing accolades.
Nearly
vacant of word; soft-spoken when necessary. Deep in thought. Focused
contemplation.
Possessing
insight: Faith! Hope! Charity! Generosity! Family! Liberty! Freedom! Kindness!
Non-materialistic.
Quick of wit. Honoring others. Praise! And, Glory! Self-effacing. Concise.
Subject
to a self-imposed Credo of behavior which will be neither transgressed nor
defiled.
There
exist no excuses; only successful results. Lives here, no fantasy; only the
reality of life.
Yet:
Dreams are Beyond! Rainbows are
followed. Butterfly colors tasted and savored.
Mother
Nature dictates value in this time; God’s will practiced determines spacial
virtue!
Demarcation
lines rigidly proscribe: Good/ evil; black/white; right/wrong; Truth/lies.
With
un-obfuscated perspicacity (clear vision) search a long shadow cast by standing
tall.
One
born under the “Luckiest” star of heaven. Blessed Beyond; un-worthy and
un-deserving.
In a word: Love!
What?
One
who commits through Word! Logically
plans with Thought! Performs in Action!
Always
and forever with unconditional Love
as that sacred foundation of choices.
On
a late April day around the mid-morning time of Spring-fever infection under
the seductive kiss of golden shafts from my friend, the sun, streaking through
voids and punctures in puffy-white clouds, put there, obviously and decidedly,
for purposeful enjoyment, while lying prostrate, full length upon Mother
Nature’s cool, verdant green carpet of thick red clove, crystal blue orbs
followed the effortless glide of a Red Tail high above, riding the thermal
updraft created by the three hundred foot bluffs nearby.
“Such
perfection!” I considered. “Freedom! Through Liberty! Wow!” Pure: Envy! Jealousy!
Laughing
at the very vanity of my own “humanism” while shaking an un-appreciating head
came realization and a lightning spike of understanding. Again: Wow!
“Ten-thirty,”
I judged by the angle of Ole Mr. Sun. Of course, I would not concede the value
of a modern watch; did not even own one. Well! Not a timepiece that worked in
keeping accurate hours. While several adorned my smallish “junk” box secreted
in a dresser drawer, neither ran. At least, one of those discarded treasures
was “right” twice a day; the other just happened to be digital, thereby
displaying a blank grey rectangle of no significant import, other than to announce
a decidedly dead battery or some other mechanical internal misgiving which
rendered it useless.
Anyway,
all that gibberish aside, for now, while I lamented my surly tether to earth as
another friend, the Red Tail, soared freely through a cerulean abyss, I took
stock of my situation.
Blessed!
Always! Don’t know the “Why” of that one, but, gratefully humbled, it is
accepted.
Fortunate
to have fallen into a “job”, Oh! Dear God! Not that! which afforded myriad
hours of leisure time since I slaved to no time clock having garnered a
position that offered me the perfect opportunity to do my work whenever it
suited my fancy and in any timeframe I might choose.
That
particular morn, as I lay stretched out in the wilderness, of sorts, far from
any annoying phones or fellow slaves, a.k.a. employees, contemplating the
importance of whether or not I might be several weeks pre-mature in an arrival
at the woods to hunt wild Morels as they generally “pop” well toward the end of
the “rainy” month and come in myriad numbers from the first of May through the
middle of the “flower” time and arguing with myself that I might have better
served today’s delectable flavor dessert with a foray to the local fishing lake
to partake of an angling adventure involving the wily Red Ear hybrid blue gill
species which spawn and hide out in the secret deep holes known only to a few
savvy sportsmen.
The
controversy actually held no confusion; the truth of the matter was not to
treasure a bag full of delicious mushrooms or catch a live bag bonanza of tasty
Red Ear. That self-discussion only served to allow additional laziness on my
backside watching the antics of Mr. Red Tail. The eternal “chase” of the adventure
proved to be the prize. Simple! Concise! Succinct! Easy! Pure!
Later,
around the noon hour, as the Morels sizzled in a heavy cast iron skillet
alongside fileted Red Ear fitted out in similar fashion, I had previously “won”
the argument by slipping on over to the lake for a chance at the fishing, I reluctantly managed a few short phone
contacts, quickly dictated a timely report, or two. After flipping the food
morsels on my way through the kitchen to the pool, having donned my swim
trunks, I would take a quick swim; just to work up an appetite after such a
“hard” day’s exertion. Ah! Life is Good!
Yes! Indeed! For any who bother to purposely practice the essentials of turning
events into adventures: Life is certainly Good!
Around
three, as the sun slipped past the point of no return on its destiny with the
coming dusk, I’d anticipate the kids’ arrival after a tedious day at dreaded
school, for me, not them; seemed they were constantly competing with me for
time with my playmates, I’d tack up the mounts for a “Yippie-yi-yae!” cowboy
rodeo with a horse race through dancing water drops down at the rock bottom creek.
Yeah! Mom would admonish her “kids” yet once again for getting soaked to the
skin, with yet another “When will your father ever grow up?” Then, she’d lay
out dry clothes, gather the soggy remnants resultant of another great
adventure, shake her pretty head at the outlandish behavior and make us a
delicious supper. (Sure enough---It’s dinner on the coasts; I’m just a simple
country boy).
Come
evening-time bringing a spring chill, we’d build a bon fire around which we’d
sit on logs or overturned buckets roasting marshmallows and hot dogs, letting
the curs join in the festivities while we told tall tales of Morels, Red Ear,
Red Tail and school yarns. C’est la vie!
In
spite of my childish irreverence in keeping the Faith! Through reverence for
living, on my terms, offers for promotion came, often. Each politely refused.
Freedom is not for sale! Amen!
And,
come the day, sometime, I’ll revisit my youth through elder status and
contently smile:
All we ever will
have to offer is Love! to one another
The very best we
can do is Good! toward each other
Live! Love!
Laugh! Focus contemplate!
Vigilant be! Not
one future be ever late!
Faith! Family!
Freedom! Might just be all there really---is
In one eternal
instant, the only mercy judgment will be…His!
Amen!
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