Fleas

 

Years ago, when I first started practicing law, an older and wiser lawyer came to visit our small county.  After experiencing the questionable ethics of some of my collegues, he cautioned me, “You need to be careful practicing law around these characters.  You lie with dogs, you get fleas.”  That was solid advice. 

Today, driving home for lunch, I pulled out into traffic, a respectable distance in front of another car.  Not only did the driver not slow down for me, he actually sped up, threatening to run into me from behind.  “Get out of my way!” his driving etiquette screamed at me, “Don’t you know this is MY road?” 

How often have I behaved that way myself, acting as if the road belonged only to me, and everyone else on it was in my way?

As I thought about it, I was reminded of the flea comment from years ago.  Have I simply driven on the road with angry dogs for so long, I have picked up their fleas?  I suspect so.  Perhaps it is time for a good dose of flea powder. 

And maybe that is what being “in the world, but not of the world” is all about.  Learning to live life without picking up fleas.  Keeping our own sense of balance. 

Thoughts, anyone?

Ants

I found myself itching unexpectedly yesterday after being outside, with some sort of bug bites on my ankles and legs.  I am a mosquito magnet, and so I expected they were to blame, but I hoped not:  I had been exploring a new area and had seen no evidence of mosquitos.  And so I conducted an experiment:  I began to scratch. 

“Stop that!”  a friend prompted.  “You’ll make them worse.” 

I tried to explain the experiment:  “I’m not sure what kind of bites these are,” I said, “But they don’t feel like mosquito bites.”  (Yes, it is true:  I am SUCH a bite magnet that I have learned the nuances of the effects of various toxins on my skin.  Mosquito bites, if left alone for the first hour or so, will simply go away.  These bites, however, began to itch several hours later, suggesting mosquitoes were not to blame.  But I digress.)  I went on: “If I scratch them, and they blister, they are ant bites.”  My friend seemed unimpressed. 

Sure enough, the next day, several little blisters appeared over the bites.  “Eureka!”  I exclaimed.  “Ants!”  (It takes very little to get me excited these days.)  And, sure enough, after a little investigation, we found a whole host of little ants, so small that their initial bites were hardly noticeable.  That is good news, since ants are much easier to exterminate from an area than mosquitos.

The point of all that, is simply to say that when we are called to experiment with life, or take a walk, or go on a pilgrimage, it will very likely seem pointless, even foolish to people.  Even our closest friends.  But if we are comfortable enough in our own skin, and trust what we know about ourselves, about how we react and respond to situations, then perhaps we will have the courage to take a step or two, anyway.   And that, it seems to me, is where the adventure begins – at that point where the roads diverge, and we have an opportunity to explore territories that will remain hidden if we do not go there.  Because others do not see the point of it, the door is hidden to them.     

Thoughts, anyone?

Another Eden

In the beginning

All was lush as wet spring grass

Boughs laden with ripe fruit

Were easy, everything

Was easy

 

Your touch was soft

As the summer wind

That brings a kiss

Of rain just before

Nightfall

 

And it never occurred to me

That there would be autumn

Or winter, or that

A kind of death

Was ripening there