Here, There and Everywhere

Posts tagged ‘road’

Good To Be Lost

imagesMistress Tova Tells It Like It Is. Circa 1596. Page 3,491. A smidgen from Zen Master Tova Tarantino Toshiba: The Illustrious and Delusional Abbess of Satire.

We don’t know what is around the corner, but we know there is always a corner, unless we go straight, but then it’s difficult to get to a specific destination. But, then again, there is no need to get specific or always have a destination. Sometimes, not knowing where we are, or where we are going, keeps us grounded in the present and the unknown. Not knowing can be our friend and savior.

It is often the corners and our fear of what is around the bend, that prevents us from practicing wholeheartedly and without reservation. Fear can be a frightening emotion that takes us out of ourselves and throws us into the future or what lies deep in our subconscious. It is always beneficial to feel lost, let alone be lost.

Going directly into the fear, apprehension, and unknown is not easy, but it is the path we must follow. When possible, always take the beaten path, but when there is no path, road, or highway, we must make our own and not be afraid to step into the darkness, without a nightlight. And if the way is too hard or bumpy, one can just sit and wait and see what happens.

More lost words at: Zen Master Tova Tarantino Toshiba: The Illustrious and Delusional Abbess of Satire.

Knocked Senseless

An inspiring & painful tale from Zen Master Tova Tarantino Toshiba: The Illustrious and Delusional Abbess of Satire.

“There is only the direct path,” Zen Master Toshiba exhorted to the lay community that had gathered for her Thursday talk. “You can go around in circles and try many paths, but the one which leads to the source is straight and narrow. It isn’t easy. It involves hardship, determination, and will power.” Many heads nodded in agreement. “We must not take this lightly,” The Master said sternly. “With the direct path, we can focus on what arises.” She paused, sighed, and then finished the session with the admonition, “Like a horse being led to water, we must not look to the left or the right, but keep our eyes on the road, trail or meadow . . . whatever it is the horse is walking on, and keep moving. Sitting still is a waste of time.”

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At the next week’s meeting, one of the men who had attended previously came in late and tripped over several people as he made his way to the front of the line. There he stood in front of The Master. His face was a mass of bruises and it looked as if his nose and arm had been broken. He gingerly prostrated, bowed, and stood again, with the help of his neighbor.

“Why are you standing before me?” Master Toshiba inquired.

“You said sitting was a waste of time Master.”

“And what has happened to your body?”

“I have taken your words to heart and made every attempt to go straight and not detour from my destination, as you instructed. It has been a very hard road.”

“You have taken my words to heart and been thus rewarded. Has it knocked any sense into you yet?”

“It has knocked me senseless several times, but I don’t think I have any greater understanding.”

“Perhaps not, but you have provided a wonderful example for others.”

“I have?”

“Yes, please sit, if you can,” Master Toshiba advised. The man did so painfully.

“This gentleman has shown us all the power of faith and determination. He tried my words on for size and found that they are not to be taken literally, but as metaphors, stories, parables, fairy tales, and the gospel truth. Of course truth is subjective and your experience of what it is may be different than mine, but THE truth is formed upon solid rock and is true in all circumstances, situations, and times. And that’s the truth.”

More unbelievable words of enlightenment: Zen Master Tova Tarantino Toshiba: The Illustrious and Delusional Abbess of Satire.

Falling On High – Part 2

Excerpt from short story collection Saint Catherine’s Baby.

Falling On High – Part 2 – Conclusion

“Hey! Tony! Can you give me a hand?”

Tony put down the leveler, straightened and heard his knees crack, as he trudged once again up to the peak and looked over. Mike was on the edge of the roof trying to hammer in a piece of plywood that appeared warped.

“Can you hold that side down?” Mike asked.

Tony slowly worked his way to the edge and looked more closely. “You can’t use this,” he said, as Mike reached for a nail.

“Why not?” Mike questioned. “If you just hold that end I can get it to stay down.”

Tony shook his head. “It’s warped.”

“Just a little,” Mike insisted, flicking his hair behind his broad shoulders.

“Just a little?” Tony shouted, trying to calm his surging rage. He lifted up the piece of plywood, put it on its end and pointed. “It’s as warped as a politician! You can’t put this kind of crap on a roof.”

“I can do it,” Mike puffed up.

“That’s not the point, damn it!” Tony yelled. “You can’t use junk like that and be proud of your work.”

Mike shrugged. “Hey. It’s just a job.”

Tony felt his ears burn. He thought about grabbing the hammer and hitting Mike up side the head but remembered what George had said. He stood. His knees shook. It’s not just a job to me,” he said. “I’ll cut you another piece.” He growled, taking the warped plywood towards the ladder leaning against the front of the house.

As Tony placed his foot on the aluminum rung, holding the plywood in one hand and placing his other on the roof, the ladder slid sideways and crashed to the ground. The warped plywood followed, as Tony hung onto the gutter by his fingertips.

“Help! Mike! Help!”

He heard footsteps running on the rough gravely shingles and saw Mike’s young face peer over the side.

“Hold on,” he instructed. “I got ya.”

Mike grabbed Tony by the forearm, dug his heels into an exposed rafter nearby and pulled Tony up with a swift burst of youthful invincibility.

Tony crawled to his knees and looked away, hoping Mike hadn’t seen the terror in his eyes, but knowing he had.

Instead of saying thank you, Tony exploded with shame. “You stupid . . .” His voice trailed off as he got his bearings. “Number one rule,” he continued, “always, always make sure the ladder’s secure.”

“I just saved your butt,” Mike sneered, starting to walk away. Tony got up and followed.

“It shouldn’t have happened!” Tony yelled. “That ladder wasn’t secure!”

Mike waved Tony off and shrugged his shoulders. Tony grabbed Mike by the arm and turned him around. “Listen, you . . .”

“Don’t touch me old man,” Mike said sharply.

Tony pushed Mike on the chest. “Not too old to take you out.”

Mike turned and tried to walk away, but Tony grabbed him again by the shoulder.

Tony felt the wind leave his body as he crumbled to the roof, his gut contracting with pain from Mike’s sudden blow.

“I said, ‘don’t touch me’,” Mike leaned over and whispered.

Lying sideways, Tony watched Mike grab his Hawaiian shirt, go to the tar- covered roof and disappear down the back ladder.

Tony gasped and caught his breath. He put his hand on his stinging cheek and felt a bloody abrasion from landing on the shingles. He heard a door slam an engine rev and saw the top of Mike’s truck as it drove off.

“Stupid kid,” he said out loud. “Try to show him the ropes and look what you get.”

Curled up on top of the house, the sun sinking in the Tucson sky; Tony thought about Jake. Drops fell on his cheeks. It wasn’t sweat and it wasn’t rain; it was a foreign substance Tony had heard of called tears. Jake was the last person on earth he’d ever considered a true friend. Now he had nobody.

He sat up slowly, his back throbbing like a gigantic toothache and wiped his nose on his forearm. Out of nowhere his ex-wife’s parting words pounded in his head. “I actually feel for you. You’re the sorriest, loneliest man I’ve ever known. I don’t see how anyone could stand living with you!”

By the time his feet touched the ground night had descended. Walking gingerly to his truck Tony paused and looked up at the first stars out alone in the night. “Ah hell,” he whispered. “Maybe I was too hard on the guy.” It was then and there, in the silence, that he decided to find Mike first thing in the morning.

Tony saw Mike talking with George through the office window when he pulled up early the next day, just after sunrise. George was grinning and Mike didn’t seem too upset about anything. “What’s so funny?” Tony wondered, as he headed towards the front door.

George saw him first. He didn’t stop grinning. Mike, on the other hand, stopped talking and silently looked out the window as Tony closed the door behind him.

“Heard you had a little ‘disagreement’,” says George.

“Yeah,” Tony replied quickly, before he lost his nerve. “That’s why I’m here and not out working yet. I was wondering if I could talk to you a minute Mike . . . privately like.”

George tried to square up Tony’s intentions, then glanced at Mike. “OK with me. How about you?” he asked Mike.

Mike glanced sideways at Tony, who didn’t seem angry or pissed off and said, “Sure. Why not?”

“I’ll be right here if you need me,” George said to both men as Mike followed Tony out the door.

Tony wasn’t sure what he was going to say or how; he just knew that for some reason he didn’t want anyone else in this world to hate him. If there was some way to set the record straight and start over, he was going to give it his best shot.

Mike turned and leaned against the side of the corrugated building. He folded his arms, making his biceps more menacing than normal and kicked at the dirt with the toe of his work boot.

“Listen Mike.” Tony moved a little closer. He wasn’t sure what to do with his hands so he tucked them in his front pockets. “I’ve never told anybody this before and I don’t know why I’m telling you now, but if its worth anything, I’m sorry for the way I acted up there.”

Mike stopped kicking at the dirt and looked at Tony out of the corner of his eye. Tony took up where Mike left off by looking down at the ground and kicking at the dirt.

It seemed to George, who had quietly stepped outside and was watching carefully; that there was nothing to worry about. “At least nobody’s thrown a punch,” he observed.

Mike didn’t know Tony from a hole in the ground and had no idea what a monumental and life-changing event it was for this man to apologize. But he could see that the old man was serious and he wasn’t one to hold grudges.

It took Tony a minute to raise his eyes and see Mike’s outstretched hand. Surprising himself, Tony smiled and gripped the offered hand with both of his own. “Thank you son,” Tony said, sending another shock wave through his system. He never even called his own boy “son”. “If there’s anything you need up their today, just give a holler.”

“You got it,” Mike agreed.

As the two men started walking back towards the office laughing and playfully punching one another in the arm, George looked up at the sky and said, “Dad. Now I’ve seen everything.”

THE END

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