Peas and hominy

Most of my life I’ve been a go-go-getter, racing along what I calculated to be the most efficient path to [fill in the blank with a venerable goal].  I think it might have started at about the age of 19 when Billy Graham convinced me that the End of the World was at hand.  That idea instilled in me a sense of urgency that sent me crashing headlong into a desperate crusade to find truth, happiness, and eventually to perfect the American Way and to enjoy as much apple pie as I could.

Lately I’ve concluded that some kinds of excitement a person can do without.  I’m also in a situation where I have time to reflect on past efforts and can afford to take my time in deciding where to point the bow of my boat next.  And I realized that the End of the World has been upon us for thousands of years, and with any luck it will be for thousands of years to come.

I also realize that for many things I’ve been-there-done-that; raised families, achieved financial success, found many versions of truth, visited many places and people in the world.  I’ve refined my perception of what is important to human life and what is not.

My dad often used the phrase “peas and hominy” as a sort of humorous and disarming way to refer to “peace and harmony”.  I’ve seen something similar on a bumper sticker:  “Imagine swirled peas”…

So lately I’ve been inclined to throw out the anchor, so to speak, and to see what it is to metaphorically go nowhere and do nothing.  Zen masters refer to that approach as hauling water and chopping wood.  To nurture peas and hominy in my garden space; to imagine swirled peas.