By Micky Wolf
Wednesday, October 26, 2016
By Micky Wolf
It began with a smile. Too hard to resist. A clear plastic bag containing a half-pound of small pretzels (mid-day snacks for yours truly) in the shape of letters. Into the cart it went with the rest of our items.
A couple hours later my beloved walked into my study where I was busy typing. He put the bag on the desk. And smiled.
“Hmm…letters for the writer.”
Made me smile.
“So, what would you spell with them?” I asked. “And you can eat your words when you’re finished.”
He smiled. Took the bag and returned a few minutes later. Minus a few of the crunchy snacks.
Who would have thought something as simple as alphabet pretzels could brighten our day. Then again, maybe it just doesn’t take much to amuse the two of us.
On the other hand, I’m inclined to believe it’s the handiwork of the Divine. Manifesting in the simple. Writing outside the lines.
And smiling all the while.
Wednesday, October 12, 2016
By Micky Wolf
As my beloved and I cleared away plants and containers to be stored until next growing season, we discovered what you see in the accompanying photo. A cracked pot.
Reminded me of the popular wisdom story on the same topic. If you’ve never read it, check it out here. If you’re familiar with the story, a refresher might be in order. (Cannot locate a specific author/source credit.)
It’s not a spoiler to share the heart of the message: of the two vessels, the vessel that was cracked was no less beautiful or functional than the other—the Divine simply chose a different way to work through its flaws to create something wonderful.
Like you and me, a quick glance in the mirror is all it takes to make us aware of our own flaws. For other people, those imperfections are even more unsettling when living with effects of the aging process. It is unfortunate that as a culture, we are often quick to interpret a slowing gait or fading intellectual prowess as indications of unredeemable ‘cracks’.
Given the condition of our pot (vessel), it would be easy to toss it in the trash. It isn’t human, it’s a thing. But we are reluctant to do that. Why?
Consider the possibilities…
…Fill it with plants and place it in a location where any water that leaks out will nourish the surrounding environment. (Per the aforementioned story)
…Apply a protective coating to seal the cracks, thereby extending the life of the vessel.
…Use it to store small gardening tools, bulbs, bird seed or vegetable seeds.
Any one of these possibilities will give new purpose and meaning to our cracked pot. Yet there remains another opportunity for it to contribute to the good life.
As the process progresses, the cracks will become longer, deeper, wider. Over time, the sides will chip and break apart. At which point we can gently shape the pieces into smaller ones that can then be used as drainage material in the bottom of other pots.
All of this unfolds, not unlike the way of life does for you and me.
We begin as infants with the tiniest hint of cracks, visible and invisible. As we grow and mature, they become more pronounced. In our latter years, they may inhabit the greater part of our physical, intellectual, emotional, or spiritual being.
The challenge, then, is not to see those ‘cracks’ as making us of less worth and value.
It is to see them as indications of the good life—a life that is being lived to the fullest, whatever the time, or the place, or the season.
How do I feel about having any similarities to a cracked pot?
Do I accept my ‘cracks’ as part of being human?
Do I let the ‘cracks’ limit the one life I have been created to live?