The End or the Beginning

Or maybe both. Just thoughts, stories, wisdom, stupidity, and whatever nonsense I can throw together.

Sunday, June 18, 2006

Yet another Nasty Secret I Discovered about Life

It always seems that when we don't want something, it lasts. I bought these lousy garbage bags. They were supposed to be super strong so the sides could be tied together without tearing open the bags. That wasn't the case. If you even looked at the bags wrong, they ripped open. They just came in a small box, so I figured I would just use them up and go back to the regular bags. I don't believe in waste. So every week I use the bags. Weeks go by and there are more bags remaining. They won't go away. Garbage day are always joined with rips, tears, and curses, and my kitchen drawer always displays a grand and growing collection of these blasted bags. My hopes for the day when I can go back to the good bags keeps getting projected into the far away future.

Of course, I haven't had to spend money on garbages bags in a long time, but my sanity is ticking a away. Still I don't want to waste, so I endure this madness.

I have noticed this with other things to. If we don't want the stuff, it grants them some kind of perpetual staying mechanism. They don't go away. I think the secret of the widow in the Bible whose oil supply never ran out wasn't some divine intervention. She just hated the oil. It made the flames sputter and created a rank smell. She kept trying to spill it, burn it, and toss it outside, but somehow it kept refilling itself. She didn't want to waste it, especially with this major prophet standing over her shoulders. So she was stuck with the darn oil.

So I suppose I should just learn to stop buying lousy stuff. Either that or getting over my notion that not wasting is a virtue. I guess the good I get out of it is learning yet another secret about life. Except this secret isn't going to make me rich. Oh well, if you need to borrow some lousy garbage bags, you know who you can contact.

Friday, April 14, 2006


Solid blocks of stone serve as reminders of our end. If we embrace their beauty, they can also help us to remember the beginning that hides within their silence. Everything true is found where the opposites meet.

Wednesday, April 12, 2006


I always look forward to spring. Winter is too long, and warmth, flowers, sunshine seem like far away luxuries that surprise me when they arrive. Of course, it's not all good. The ants come back. My kitchen becomes their supermarket with the abundance of crumbs, sticky corners, and fresh new smells.

My kids have two opposite reactions to them. My daughter is the ant Nazi. She reacts with extreme terror at their tiny appearances and insists that a plethora of fly swatters, bug sprays, and machine guns become available to eliminate them immediately.

My son, the little Buddhist, grabs a cup and a sheet of paper so he can gently lift the creatures into his benevolent trap. He then takes them outside and lets them free. When we informed him that they likely hightail it right back to their treasure mine and that his effort is an exercise in futility, he came up with a plan

He takes them even further away. I remind him to spin them around a few times to make sure they get disoriented and we hope for the best.

I am torn between the two reactions. Do I want to use violence to eliminate this messy clutter that spring brings or do I want to want to to learn to accept this tiny intrusion of little lives different from my own?

Lifes asks us big questions in the little things.

So I will start out with ants.