Everything is proof of it—this forced gift of existence—even the tired face of a small-town bus driver in the early morning; it speaks of longing, the endless patience you have when scrutinizing good fortune that has unexpectedly dropped into your lap. And what does life offer in return… the quiet hum inside the bus where you can warm up, a change from the frozen and bleak winter landscape… What does it offer in return? A kiss goodbye from your wife before you head out, and the mildly bitter taste of coffee with cream? The early morning fog and a dead moose on the side of a road? Like an Indian who gets glass beads in exchange for gold, you trade the suffering of existence in return for the smell of baking bread. The feel of a dog’s wet nose against your hand. The look in your children’s eyes. A bird feeder. May it all bring you joy, says this opposing, unwanted, huge opportunity—Life.
~ Inga Ābele, High Tide
Credits: Quotes – the distance between two doors. Photo: AdamsBullDozer with The nose knows (via hundegalskap)
May it bring you joy…for only a fool would ignore those moments in between.
Smiling. And how often I play the fool! 🙂
Don’t we all, pal? This passage gave me a frisson….
Frisson. Love THAT.
in exchange for the smell of baking bread…I get it. ☺
Or chocolate chip cookies. Yes…
Absolutely. I used to bake them when we had a house showing…I swear that it closed the deal a few times. ☺☺
It doesn’t get too much better. All we have to do is open our eyes and minds to the world around us. 🙂
That’s it Billy….
Words to let flow through me. Poignant share DK 💛
And flow and flow and flow.
🌊🌊🌊🌊 😉
You are a emoji wizard!
Didn’t know they were called that. More like an emoji 🃏
Is that a Queen? OMG
Flowing, fully immersed in the thick of it all….
it’s all about the moments.
“What does it offer in return?”
It is similar to the person who says he gets nothing from attending church. Our existence, as with church attendance, will offer us much if we bring something to it. Namely ourselves.
-Alan
Bingo!
I’m a little confused by his analogy of trading glass beads for gold. The way it’s set up, the glass beads = the smell of baking bread. And that’s just backwards. Our suffering is the glass bead—illusory, seemingly valuable but ultimately cheap and gaudy. The gold is that smell, and all the bright moments. Grains of gold that accumulate into treasure.
Don’t look to me for an answer! 🙂
It’s nice when these hoity-toity writers make no sense.