My mind races through portals all day long as I try to grasp the complexity of the world around me. I have a clue. I just don't know it yet. My mind is my last authority on anything I feel is important. Everything else is a pipe-dream or a field of four-leaf-clovers at best. I could simply relish in my own greatness, but I know that there is more of me to become. It scares me. A little. Maybe not. I am what I am.
I find little comfort in the trivial matters that everyone else seems to stress over. Peace can be found in the middle of a war as your sergeant's silhouette is highlighted by the explosions and the tracers being fired down range. Peace can be found in the middle of the day while you're working on your tenth cup of coffee and eighteen students are demanding your attention at once. Peace can be found as your daughter attacks your leg and your son jumps to your arms after a long day. Peace can always be found!
It is a harsh reality that life can end or take a terrible turn at any moment. Life never guarantees anything. It is a workaholic. It happens while you sleep. It happens and it just keeps on happening, never waiting or giving you a chance to catch-up. You have to figure out how on your own. People may try to help you, but they can't live your life for you. Peace can be found in your own mistakes.
The world may be so self-involved in its own web of chaos, havoc, and blow-your-mind down-right nothingness, but it's all just a matter of time when tomorrow's things become important and the "have-tos" of today are wrong. Sour minds who can't seem to comprehend that it is hysterical to take yourself so seriously will one day lose the life they fought so long and hard to keep perfectly preserved and they will not have had any fun to speak of. Promises that fade from crooked lips when the person has received his or her due will one day drop from our hearts and consciousness as insignificantly as a drop of water into the ocean. And my hunger for life will be as full as that ocean while the meal they put before me will serve as good of a purpose as giving a tic-tac to a whale.
Jump into the river. Eat your grandmother's fruitcake. Climb a tree. Take in a sunset. Pet a dog. Make your mother proud and finish off the leftovers. Drop from the sky with a jumpmaster approved parachute. Walk. Run a mile just to do it. Read a book. Write an honest, no holds barred poem. Coach Special Olympics. Serve food at the Salvation Army. Body surf the Rappahannock. Step out of the sky and onto the ground. Then, step off of the ground and into the sky. You'll take some bumps and bruises along the way. But, never let them take the life out of you.
Also the dog gets lots of pets. As a chef, textile sensation and combinations of texture are as important as combinations of flavour. The dog has killer soft fur, and it's always a joy. When I'm in cooking mode, the rest of the world completely leaves me, although I still maintain a Zen control over staff and timing, without even thinking about it.
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