Parable
There is something to be said for a rut.
Not a rut in the sense of what stags do, though there is certainly something to be said for this, too.
Yesterday, I got to the bus station early and was able to spend some time waiting for the bus to get moving in contrast to my usual pounding on the door to get it to stop. The driver, a man of indeterminate age and from some place in deepest indeterminate Asia, was humming to himself, greeting the people out of the rain onto the bus, wiping down the steering wheel and instruments with a soft cloth, and ticking things off slowly on a checklist. When we left, he drove leisurely and without malice towards the bumper crop of idiots between Georgetown and my stop. He managed to snake through traffic and drop me off early, which got him a thank you and me a slightly hysterical laugh in return.
Utterly happy in his task, if not outwardly happy in his job. In a rut, but making the best of it.
I haven’t managed to get many groceries this week, so all I have to eat are eggs. I made two hardboiled and had a beer, which would be the greatest peasant’s dinner ever if not for two things- a good deal of Vietnamese hot sauce, which I’ve been putting on everything lately, and some ginger cookies, which I wouldn’t even have if not for the advice of a kind person grocery shopping with me. Otherwise, a meal that is simple, unchanged for thousands of years of human consumption, and really damn satisfying.
I read some of my book, went for a walk, and realized that I am truly happy right now, in this calm between the various sturms and drangs. Later I’ll be dodging missiles and dissertations, but right now I’m comfortably supporting a simple life and I can’t think of anything directly important to complain of. This might seem not exactly newsworthy, but sometimes knowing that only the passage of a large period of time is going to massively change your life is a happy thought in itself and worthy of sharing, if only to give hope to people in ruts that have become prisons.
There is something to be said for a rut; they’re difficult to get out of but provide a good view of what’s ahead and behind. There is peace in that.
Not a rut in the sense of what stags do, though there is certainly something to be said for this, too.
Yesterday, I got to the bus station early and was able to spend some time waiting for the bus to get moving in contrast to my usual pounding on the door to get it to stop. The driver, a man of indeterminate age and from some place in deepest indeterminate Asia, was humming to himself, greeting the people out of the rain onto the bus, wiping down the steering wheel and instruments with a soft cloth, and ticking things off slowly on a checklist. When we left, he drove leisurely and without malice towards the bumper crop of idiots between Georgetown and my stop. He managed to snake through traffic and drop me off early, which got him a thank you and me a slightly hysterical laugh in return.
Utterly happy in his task, if not outwardly happy in his job. In a rut, but making the best of it.
I haven’t managed to get many groceries this week, so all I have to eat are eggs. I made two hardboiled and had a beer, which would be the greatest peasant’s dinner ever if not for two things- a good deal of Vietnamese hot sauce, which I’ve been putting on everything lately, and some ginger cookies, which I wouldn’t even have if not for the advice of a kind person grocery shopping with me. Otherwise, a meal that is simple, unchanged for thousands of years of human consumption, and really damn satisfying.
I read some of my book, went for a walk, and realized that I am truly happy right now, in this calm between the various sturms and drangs. Later I’ll be dodging missiles and dissertations, but right now I’m comfortably supporting a simple life and I can’t think of anything directly important to complain of. This might seem not exactly newsworthy, but sometimes knowing that only the passage of a large period of time is going to massively change your life is a happy thought in itself and worthy of sharing, if only to give hope to people in ruts that have become prisons.
There is something to be said for a rut; they’re difficult to get out of but provide a good view of what’s ahead and behind. There is peace in that.
posted by Josh at 2:11 PM
1 Comments:
Arnold Bennett once said, "The great advantage of being in a rut is that when one is in a rut, one knows exactly where one is."
Congratulations on taking comfort in that which is a known good;-) I have no problem at all with a rut myself; that's what I've chosen grad school. Lord knows what I'd do if I had to escape my rut of educational bliss and get a real job;-)
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