It's good for the soul. He'd say of it.
I knew what WORK was but whatever
a SOUL was, I hated it.
I want a trench 2 by 6 feet, he'd say real early,
pointing at my task unusually sternly.
Gee thanks, Dad but is work only
good for you when it's really early?
Or could it be that he just enjoy watching
me work in a hurry...?
Spurred by Saturday morning animations,
their anthems played like a
metronomic motivations.
Pa rum pa pum pum, pa rum pa pum pum,
digging and working, "Turtle Power" I'd hum.
Dad, I've dug and I've dug without a single stop.
That's great son, go back and fill it right back to the top.
But dad that's dumb! He smiles and says son,
Remember, remember - pa rum pa pum-pum.
Later I'd learn, that when he didn't have it he'd make some.
For he knew to the soul, work was its hum.
And I'm so grateful, I get to pa rum pa pum-pum.
Wandering, Wondering & Lost
I had a celestial trust in my mother, especially when it came to how special I was.
She didn't just mean it in the spirit of parental encouragement that was intended to foster self-confidence, she did that of course, but what she meant for me to believe is; I was luckier than others.
I was lucky because of simple math: I am 1 of 7 Billion earthly inhabitants. I am 1 of 300 Million lucky to be born in America - of which - 5 Million are lucky enough to be Mormon. How lucky!
I wasn't lucky because of the rabbit foot, the four leaf clover or for the metaphorical lamb's blood that had permanently been painted on our door by being believers. No, I was special because in the life before this one, I earned my birthright by choosing the right.
Years later the celestial promise of heaven would crumble with my belief and so swapping roles, eldest for prodigal, I wandered, I wondered and I was lost. Why did the sunset & rise, if not for me? For us? His children.
It was simple math that brought back to me the smarting pink of the setting sun and the angelic yellow of its rise. I am 1 of 8 Billion people that live.I live on a pale blue dot - supporting life - while hurling through the infinity of space!
And so should God or the evolutionists be right, it no longer matters, for I found the purpose of life is not to live for the morrow or to gain an extra life wherein all things earned await our arrival.
The purpose of life is to bask, to bask in the ethereal glow of the now! To pause, to pay attention to and find gratitude in the special circumstance of your speciation. You and I are alive, therefore we are lucky and we are extremely special!