Today you get hungry and decide you want a thing new,
different. You spend the morning painting woodwork in
the kitchen and are situated in the vicinity of a decent
variety of culinary delights.
You hit upon a large sweet potato, not a yam but a sweet
potato: You know the difference if you're from the South.
You bake the potato in a microwave that conveniently bears
a symbol for Baked Potato.
You would not choose to live any time other than the present
when you can push a single button and in the time it takes
to write a haiku, you are presented the makings of a meal
original. It's left only to add the garnish.
To beautify: not the same as beatify (which The Pope did for
Mother Teresa) but this is close to that, you add broccoli,
shavings of mozzarella and carrot, a tomato from the garden,
all topped off by a mild secret sauce, and red wine for drink.
While you munch through this delight with (fitting enough)
One Taste, The Journals of Ken Wilber, you spot crawling on
the hand A Wee Creature of Common Acquaintance, and you
invite the little one for lunch by offering a bite.
But your will's at odds with the will of That One and no matter
the care you muster, This One will have none of your delight,
Thank You Very Much. In your enthusiasm to feed a hunger that
turns out your own, you scrunch the critter, leaving it wiggling for life.
You try to blow air into what you take for its tiny lungs, thinking
to bring it back to life, but it simply will have none of your charity
and becomes airborne, getting lost in the cool breeze of the afternoon's
delight. You think to search for it, then notice a higher learning.
You approach the gauzy place nearby whereby you sit on the brink
of caring and no concern, a detached outlook that comprehends
the worthy cause of saving a life and at once gets with great clarity
your duty, Awake, Rejoice, Always.
Caring can prove careless in the extreme. You are called to get
in the way of the way of things if, and only if, you notice enough
to know the difference your meddling might make. You are called
to find a way to care without doing more harm than good.
Still, whatever you do, there will always be consequences veiled.
That's the dilemma of justice: Your act contemplative may seek
to serve integrity, but the details implicative remain unknown in their
intricacy. The science of justice is not exact. Your duty is.
