“Mmmm-muh! Kiss your father goodbye – he’s off to the rock pile. I’ll see you guys later. Be good (thought cloud: ‘As if you could actually be something else after only 15 days outside the womb.’). Drink all your milk! Have fun…Back soon.”
Meanwhile, here at Slate’s Rock Quarry, there’s lots of love for Soul Daddy #1. It’s great to see. Everyone has well wishes and warm hearts. The birth of twins, often noted as a sign of luck in cultures around the work, also brings spiritual elevation to dyed-in-the-wool rationalists. Ours is often mind numbing, brain-breaking work, but it has it’s rewards. There is a spirit of comraderie which congeals around the struggle for sanity being waged in every office and cubicle across the State. We feel one another’s pain – and fight to free our respective brains from the dumb, dumb conundrum of never all, just some.
Babies, or any initiate, infuse the rest of us with tons and tons of perspective. En route to chopping my own personal pile of bricks, I came across a young man dressed in suit, carrying cap and gown, and walking in the proud company of his elders. I offered congratulations, with the added encouragement of “No limits, no fear.” Today is a day of reckoning…with the self and the world. Everyday is a day of reckoning, whether we move closer to our heart’s desire or farther away…time is not neutral and we are not mere observers.
Tons and tons of perspective.