The Good Life

Couldn't quite sleep, last night. The great god Sopor, the demi-god of sleep, doesn't visit every night of the Fourth Quarter. Had spent a couple of hours in the dental chair having my lip torn from my chin ... maybe that was it. It could've been the work outside I had done the previous day ... I had felt good doing it and, indeed, had felt good 'about' doing it. Still, the Soul willing or not maybe needs to find housing in a younger wrapping.

I was visited at night by a dream in which two men were threatening to throw a jagged, cantaloupe-sized rock through my car window. I saw them and invited them into my office ... they were dressed like G-Men. Maybe all the talk about the NSA spying on citizens got me. I thought it odd that I would invite those who wish me harm into my office. Still, for almost all my adult life, I have invited people into my office, even though they often harbored expressed-inclinations to do me harm. But back to the dream. I thought of stunning them and magically had a stun-gun nearby.

Instead, I found myself reminded of an ancient morning meditation on the Good Life that I decided to share with them. It goes something like this:

"These are the activities that one benefits from in the here and now even though the principal reward must remain for some other venue: Respect for Parents (I'd add respect for children and grandchildren, as well); Random Acts of Kindness; Morning and Evening Visits to Sacred Spaces; Hospitality; Visiting of the Sick; Provisioning the Newly-Wed; Accompanying the Dead; Deep Involvement in Meditation; Fostering Peace among Friends and among the Married, as well; but Study of the World is Equal to the Lot!"

I don't know, any longer if or how my visitors reacted. Were they impressed by my acumen or did they throw their rock on my smart little crown and do me in. But as I walked downstairs with GuntherDog, I found myself wondering about the various descriptions of the Good Life. From the Biblical description of Holiness in Leviticus 19 to the Greek notion of Sophrosune (sorry! Greek transliteration is such a pain in the ass for me after all these years) to the everyday little kindnesses that we show each other. Maybe the Last Quarter is made for reflecting on such matters.

I don't really believe that those lost "overtime" Souls in the Nursing Homes are wondering about "The Meaning of Life" ... but that would be nice.