Till next we meet – an internal soliloquy

Memory is a funny and fickle thing.  In the lens of my own recollection, unexpected memories rise.  For me, each recollection both sharpens and dulls.  Our recall of events is not akin to a video, but rather a video game.  Some of them are amazingly real and full – if not somehow beyond even lifelike – while others from the same event pass completely out of phase.  Like a pile of raked leaves in a breeze, you never end up with the same from which you started.

When you’ve lived in one general area for a long time, you grow accustomed to traditions, accustomed to local norms, local politics and local mindsets.  Then a strong gust comes along and leaves flitter about and scatter.  It takes much raking to bring that pile back in.  I have an interesting way of raking those leaves that uses driving, windows down, and loud music – typically EDM or trance.

Like scattered leaves are my thoughts today after being strewn about in the most magnanimous and beautiful way.  As the gusts lifted them, I watched each transcendent thought float in the air.  Thoughts such as why do I tend to pick such hard-line perspectives of those whose viewpoints oppose mine ; why don’t I consider not only the opposition’s humanity and motivations but also my own motivations.  Why do I feel the need to so carefully choose the situations in which I give and serve?  Why do I not give whenever I have the means (which is nearly always), regardless of need?  Why do I feel the need to judge if the gift will be received, even though I profess to judge the best gifts as being given with no expectations?  Each clear statement a gust of wind.  Leaves scattered about,  I sought to rake them all.  I’ll be raking for a while.

This is a good thing.  We all need our leaf piles scattered to grow.


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