Work

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I remember being little and my dad would have a card table set up in the den and he would sit there and make stacks of white envelopes, each one with a check to pay a bill.  He would say something like…in the door and out the door.  I would think…why does he waste his evenings doing all that?  Now I sit at my desk after working all day and look out the window and make little stacks of white envelopes full of checks and think things like…time to make the donuts.  I look out at a perfect Bend, OR summer evening and think why do I come home from work and work? Why do I write my blog at midnight?

When I was little my mom would tell about Adam and Eve and how they sinned and now we have to work hard and ”toil”.  Because of the apple and the willfulness of their curiosity.

From then to now (Adam to me and my dad to me, both), we make little stacks of white envelopes.  If we get enlightened we see the beauty in the mundane and know the present wonder of chopping wood and carrying water.  Mostly though, until the thin little light of enlightenment shimmers in my shadows,  summer evenings drift away, forever receding, like a ship on the empty ocean of forgetting, and I wake up enough for a moment to feel sad that I didn’t go outside and play today.

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