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Tag Archives: chance

everything in its own time
to meet is merely chance
a bump of heads
an embrace of love
there’s no choreography to the dance

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opportunity

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there once was a time

we know not when

‘but it’s past’ some say

‘will it pass again?’

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some say ‘yes’

and some say ‘no’

but even if it were so

we’d never know

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for if it passed before

and we missed it then

what chance is there

if it comes again?

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then let us hope it never was

so then we still can dream

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just because

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decisions

i wonder if i made that call

that put my birth date on the wall

some mystical meeting in the ancient past

where plans may have been made

from first to last

 

the question echoes in my mind

and ruffles chance of peace to find

about good and bad, flow and strife

of the things that fill my lot in life

There has been an unusually high rainfall in our area of late.

The other day I drove past a massive tree perhaps more than 12 – 14 meters high that had simply fallen over across the road and workers had hacked away at it in order to move it out of the way of the oncoming traffic.

It was a strange sight to see.  The tree still looked very healthy and the leaves were lush and full.  The cross section of the cuts revealed a perfect trunk with no blemishes visible anywhere.  It was wonderfully healthy … except that it was fallen and now dead.

What had caused the tree to fall and die was neither weakness nor old age but in fact, health, vitality, success and significant stature.

This once majestic tree now lay with the bulk of its glorious trunk cut up in smaller ugly chunks, thrown together into heaps waiting to be unceremoniously hauled away probably for firewood or maybe even just to be dumped on some smelly refuse heap.

What had happened was that the rain was so unusually heavy that the ground had become totally saturated and could no longer support the weight of the huge tree with its strong root system that had held it secure and upright for decades.

In the heavy rains it had simply lost grip and it toppled over with luminously healthy grass still lush and abundant clinging to the base where the tree had once broken through the soil.

Water is a life giver and a life sustainer but under these conditions it was the agent of death to a seasoned and majestic life form.

The tree had done everything right.  It was a triumphant survivor, a perfect specimen of life and abundant health.  But now it seemed that it was exactly this great prosperity and the weight of this undisputed glory that had caused it to fall.

I couldn’t help thinking that if it were not so large and healthy it might have still be standing today.

 

The race is not to the swift, nor does the battle always go to the strong.

Bread doesn’t always go to the wise, nor riches to men of understanding.

Favour does not always come to men of skill, but circumstance, time and chance happens to all.

 

For some reason ants seem to get into the kettle.  Perhaps they are in search of moisture?  It has been unusually hot here over the last while so perhaps it makes sense.

As with many households in the western world every morning our kettle is switched on for morning tea and of late I have begun to notice that there are more often than not a few small, dead ants that get poured into the pot or tea cup along with the boiled water from the kettle.  Our electric kettle is mostly black and in reality it is difficult to see them inside and mostly I usually don’t even think that they will have crawled in overnight in search of water… why would I think that?

This morning I removed four little ants from my cup who had suffered a terrible fate.  I suddenly thought what must it have been like to unexpectedly feel the temperature rise rapidly around them and then, before anything could be done to avoid disaster a searing heat overcomes everything?  It was probably totally confusing for the poor ant and clearly any attempt to get out of the trouble had at least 50% chance of getting the ant into more hot water.

The ants were neither good nor bad.  They meant no harm.  They were just being ants and were, I can only presume, doing what they needed to do.  Doing what ants do.

The only wrong they committed was that they never seemed to know of or understand the context they were in.  They clearly had no knowledge that the place they were seeking moisture and relief from was an electrical appliance that was used to boil water and an impending threat of death to them… and yet at the same time a comforting convenience for humans upon waking each morning.

My mind suddenly meandered to the historical account of the devastation of Pompeii when Mount Vesuvius erupted and less than a decade ago to the boxing day Tsunami in Indonesia which caused so much loss of life.  I also thought of the trouble as a result of the recent earthquakes in Japan.

The earth wasn’t being evil.  It was just being itself.  It was doing what it had been doing since the very beginning.

And then I also thought about all of those people who happened to be born to Iraqi or Afghan parents and suddenly seeing American bombs raining down on them from the sky.  I thought of the two World Wars and all the ethnic violence that has filled our senses through the media over recent decades.  I also thought of those in many nations simply who happen to have been born to parents who were well below the breadline with little chance of ever changing their status because of the circumstances they were in economically, politically, culturally, geographically.

All these people, neither good nor bad.  The only wrong they committed was that they never seemed to know of or understand the context they were in.  They too were just being human, doing what humans do.

I suddenly felt strangely like God in my kitchen and the power both destructive and constructive I could unleash by simply flicking a switch.

I became alarmed at that which I was potentially a part of even without my knowledge or intent this way or that.   I was not being evil was I?  I was just making some tea.

And then I thought about my thoughts regarding all of this and the feelings that cascaded through my mind when I saw these four ants floating lifelessly in my boiling water.

I then began to wonder what God feels like in his kitchen?