Monday, March 26, 2012

The Fields We Tend

Beyond the thrice-cracked concrete patio a torrent of cantaloupe green brush hangs high in all directions. Petals of dead shrub dash through the sea of tall grass like highlights bleached into a tween girl’s first unsupervised cut and style. Beyond a landscape challenge of whether a mower can handle grass so high without combusting into shards of uselessness sits a declaration of unease. No, we’re not green thumbs. We’re not even really here.

Backlit keys absorb daylong ten finger assaults with ease. Systems are built to manage systems, which are managed by people, chiefly to make sure the systems that manage the systems will, you know, function like systems. The business, while built around passion, is rooted in a foundation of preparedness, earthquake, recession, power outage or food fight we are ready for anything because we prepare for it all. Yes, this is working. We’re always here.

Sacrifice, the act of giving up something good for something better, is all too often characterized as a win/win when in fact it’s win/lose. You win whatever you tend, and what goes unattended you lose, why would you ever be surprised by what happens upon neglect?

Are you surprised at the child that acts up in class when at home there is no one to tell her not to?

Are you surprised at the single mom that can’t make girls night out because she’s working her second, third or even forth job serving food to other people’s tables so she can put some on her own?

Are you surprised at the once-comrade that doesn’t remember your birthday since you last spoke to her many years ago?

Are you surprised at the bitter homeless man for hating you for your job, clothes, and home?

Are you surprised by the musician that laughs at your weekend guitar playing while their callused fingers correct your chord progressions?

Are you surprised by the marathoner that lacks sympathy for the fast food junkie that feels irritated by the slightest pain upon an inaugural treadmill expedition?

Fields need tending to prosper, to turn into lively beauties, and yet even with our eyes fixed so firmly on them, our hearts pumping life into encouragement in the form of good intentions, nothing changes. Not yet anyways.

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