Thursday, January 13, 2011

A Village

Smoke curling up from the fire, the happy sounds of children playing nearby, villagers engaged in the life of the village.  This is my village, my home.  This is the place where I belong, where I feel safe.  I'm not safe because I'm impervious to my 'not wants'.  My sense of safety is inside me. It's from knowing that I am in my place at my time, completely doing my thing, my task.  I am completely absorbed, completely immersed, completely consumed, yet not so much that I am not aware of what other villagers are doing.   They are also completely absorbed... yet somehow in tune.  And all our tasks, roles, all our beings, so unique, so fulfilled, yet so completely part of a bigger task, role, entity.  This is our village and our village is us... together, yet individual.  Unique, yet, in so many ways, the same.

My village is alive.  It hums with the passions of every villager.  It grows and swells with the thoughts and dreams of every man, every woman, every child.  It opens up, and makes room for every conceptualization.  The village isn't limiting.  It is organic, and constantly increases its capacity for more.  As it accepts our thoughts and ideas, our village represents our unique legacy and our amazing potential.

Every villager can walk throughout my village and feast on the thoughts, dreams and imaginations of others.  They can look at the innovations, the activity, the work, the sweat, the pain, the strain, the ideology of the past, and hold it together with the ideas, the concepts, the hopes, the growth, the everything of the future.  They stand in today, with the beauty of looking on every direction, back in time, forward in time, all from a spot in my village.

As a villager stands, and looks, and feasts, she sees the past and the future, she sees herself.  She sees her village.  She sees her wants, her dreams, her imaginations, an amalgam, a mosaic, a smorgasbord of everything she has taken in.  The same, yet so different.  Her village stirs within her, grows within her, is birthed from her as she throws herself, absorbs herself, engages herself in her thing, in her task, in her role, for the moment.  Her absorption is fully freeing.  Tomorrow, another day, maybe another task, another passion, another role.  All part of her village.  And the story goes on.

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