February 4, 2013
The Right Thing
I was grounded in that moral fiber of
wanting to do the right thing. I was so
sure that this was the right thing because
it was so obvious and even those who
were persecuting me knew, and I know
they knew..I was doing the right thing.
But they didn’t want me to do it
Because it was inconveniencing them
And I knew that.
Wangari Masthai
Noble Peace Laureate 2004
The foot searing beach was
jammed early this morning after a restless night of sciatic nerve and lower
back pain. Pipo and I mildly considered running through the oily bodies
screaming and yipping in glee. I took the lead and chose to hide our merriment
since anything beyond a normal pace proves to be impractical still. Proved to be a steamy walk back home through the
medium-class neighborhood of furious dogs thrusting themselves at the
iron/wooden/wire gates that separated the sequestered from the free.
A 21 minute meditation that
followed our arrival was mostly uneventful, floating images of familiar faces
and decisions that present themselves as problems and determinedly put back in
their place of the Decision category once again. Oh, you know, the decisions of
how to get the adversary metal taken out of my foot, what delectable to make
for lunch, where on earth I am going to live the remaining years of my life,
when will I have the time to spray flea/tick prevention on the lawn, how I am
going to make a decent livelihood, what exotic gifts to purchase for the
unfortunates back home, how I am going to spend the rest of my five weeks and
three days here?
When will I know it is the
right thing? How do I recognize it? Why hasn’t it shown up yet? Who will show
it to me? What consequences will I have to deal with? Where will it happen?
Ah, the suspence!
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