I wrote and told Isabella that I was going to steal her comment. She didn't say yes, but she didn't say no either. I'm giving her credit, why would she sue me?
"If both are blind, they will fall into a hole. The key
being, one of them has to not be blind. Doesn't matter
which one, the roles change. Er, you face your fate on
the road you take to avoid it. :)
Isabella
"
It's the last sentence that fascinates me. "... you face your fate on the road you take to avoid it." I think this is a Damascus metaphor. I read a story about a man in the MidEast who heard that Death was coming to get him, so he fled to Damascus. Later, someone talked to Death and asked him why he was leaving the man's village. His reply was that he had promised to meet the man in Damascus. In the Bible, Paul of Tarsus met his fate on the road to Damascus where he had been persecuting Christians. Both met their fate on the road they took to avoid it.
Another story I became familiar with about death involved a Tibetan lama. A Buddhist monk, as it were, who had lived in the wilderness teaching the students who came to him how to meditate. When he returned to his home monastery after years of living in very primitive conditions, a fellow monk asked him to sum up the understanding he'd gained living that way. His reply was, "Death always comes unexpected."
These two metaphors appear to possess something in common. It's dumb to live your life in a way that reflects a fear of death approaching. You can't know when it will arrive. You can't really wait for something that's not certain.
One of the things that pleases me presently is that the arthritis doesn't seem to interfere with my commands to my fingers. The parts of my body that hurt when I use my hands hurt when I use them, but they still do what I tell them to. What this amounts to is how badly do I wanna write or play the piano enough to endure the accompanying pain. I feel like I have to do it as long as I can do it. If this dis-ease progresses to the point where my fingers won't obey my commands, pain or no pain, I'll deal with that when it gets here.
Maybe that's why I like Isabella's statement. What's the point of taking a road to avoid my fate? More and more I just sit here without leaving the house, much less my property. I have an exercise machine I use to work up some aerobic wheezings, and the outside stairs I go up and down to get my blood moving.
My food trip is just lousy. For the last three days I've only eaten from this slow-cooker pot I put a bunch of canned vegetables and some frozen chicken breast in. I let it cook overnight, and the next morning i tasted it, and it was terrible. I went to the store and bought some cans of Ro*tel tomatoes and green chiles and dumped them into the mix.
After I let it simmer and mix in with the original batch I tasted the crap again, and it was much better crap. Pease porridge hot. Pease porridge cold. Pease porridge in the pot, four days old. This morning I dumped six more small chicken breasts in and added some water. What a way to die.
I do not attempt to tell the God's own truth here because I don't know what the truth is or hardly ever. I try to capture the drifting thoughts that randomly appear in my imagination for reasons I may not understand. I don't know if the content I capture with these words is true or false. The Comments settings are turned off to prevent me from having to defend what amounts to little more than fanciful, sometime crude speculation. Great moments in our lives never return.
