No Problems

Nectar

 I grew up with plenty of adventure. Oftentimes I’d go hiking with my friends in thick forests, sometimes following a winding path to a river and at other times running downhill in search of blackberry bushes. Blackberry season was a favorite time of year. The berries were out of the world! We didn’t seem to mind the harsh thorns on those bushes. We’d bear all the pricks and scratches just to get to those delicious berries.

Years later, I moved to Phoenix, but I couldn’t stop dreaming about those berries. Then I met a proud old rancher. He looked more like a cowboy to me. I watched him work hard at his ranch- waking at the break of dawn, cleaning stables, welding fences, exercising his horses and so on. He too seemed to bear all the workload just to see the fruits of his love—happy horses. I must admit my lack of passion for horses even though, back in the day, my mother had won many championships. But I do admire the old cowboy, for he looks past his daily problems and simply enjoys his passion.


Recently, I observed some men shouting at each other in a political debate. They had lost their main focus. They seemed to be entangled in a bush of thorny emotions such as anger, deceit and revenge. They toiled exhaustively, arguing and counter arguing all the issues on their table.  The debate led nowhere and their goal was far away. I can’t say I haven’t wasted my time brooding over irrelevant matters too. Whether someone has been unfair or unkind, the goal has never been to focus on that. The goal has been to enjoy myself wherever I am. I think of the cowboy, and I think of the berries. I guess I can shrug of those uncomfortable nicks and scratches for a taste of joy.

15 Comments on “No Problems

  1. I admire your ability to create the most interesting and beautiful methaphora and comparisons…amazing!
    very talented!

  2. Thanks Axinia for all your generous comments and praises ; )

  3. Hi there,

    I used to love to pick blackberries by the bucket load when I was a little girl. They grew alongside the woodlands and even the dirt road where I lived. Thanks for bringing back some quiet memories.

    Michele

    • You’re welcome.
      They’re so delicious. The blackberries in the market don’t compare.

  4. Great post. I remember picking blackberries as a child. I would ride my dirtbike to the end of a field off the trail and eat blackberries to my heart’s content. I often got pricked, but when I look back on it now, I enjoyed the entire experience. Being pricked makes those summers even more memorable. The pricks of life now simply add to the richness of every experience.

  5. I think sometimes, when we’re brooding over something that seems irrelevant, it can be our minds way of disguising something that is really important to us. Sometimes these things are hard to see (or admit).

    For example, the people arguing were probably never really fighting about politics. Debates don’t get so heated for no real reason. I mean, I don’t know the men, but when that kind of thing happens it’s usually for another reason than just politics (unless they have really strong views, but again that can be a front for other issues they might have).

    Sometimes it’s difficult to see through these “mental illusions” and find what are truly our passions. Thanks for the inspiring post!

    Rob.

  6. Thank you for sharing.

    ~Wayne

    “Many people try to achieve what they think they should do instead of living the life they were born to live!”

  7. Hi Pragya,
    Beautiful post! I had sort of a “jamun” tree in my backyard in NY, growing up. The berries in the market don’t compare one bit. P.S. Got your message. Glad to hear of your heavenly time in Cabella. Love, Louisa

  8. Hi Louisa, I just saw this. I’m glad you enjoyed the post.

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