Thursday, June 30, 2011

The Lazy River of Wanting

Whenever I think about my Lazy River of Wanting, I know it's time for me to go find a REAL lazy river.  Luckily, there's one right down the street.  My mother-in-law told me that there's a river in San Antonio that is fed by a spring, and she's going to float me down it the first week of August, and I was glad.  If your work ever overlaps with your body ever overlapping with your dreams of a housekeeper ever overlapping with love and memory intersecting through it all, I think you'll get this.  It's all about the way you see things.  Today I saw a BMW with a ski rack and I thought it was the police.  I thought: what would our country look like if the police were paid big money?  I mean BIG.  Yesterday, while walking the dog, I saw a pillow coming out of a trash can and I thought it was a mother bending over a child.  I thought: that poor thing.  Today I hollered at someone through a mailbox slot and they liked it.  I thought: maybe I would've liked being a postperson.  It all gets closer and then I see the truth, but in that moment, when I am deluded by distance and I'm making meaning out of shape, I think: every time I've ever been confused, it was not about right or wrong -- it was about distance...sometimes too close, sometimes too far.