Something is seriously wrong here.
Or else something is seriously wrong with me. Why can't I just accept my good fortune instead of skulking around waiting for an anvil to fall on my head?
Time to get in a sabbatical state of mind. My son wrote this morning that a Sabbatical "sounds like it should be some sort of monk's meditation period, wandering in the forest and living with families of bears and kangaroo" and then continued thus:
The Sabbatical is a metaphysical experience that transcends all environments and states of being at the same time. Scuba-diving with porpoises on a coral reef in Fiji. Having a conversation about Hungarian politics with Matt Damon on his private hovercraft on a hot day in Antarctica. Chopping down bamboo stalks in a remote forest near Shanghai. Eating a raw chicken-head whilst watching the mating habits of the platypus in Australia. Making a working hybrid car out of parchment paper on a small island on Lake Winnipeg. This is the essence of the Sabbatical, understood only by those who have experienced it.
If my son is to be believed, anything can happen on Sabbatical--planes can land early, luggage can avoid the usual side-trip to limbo, and rental cars can appear as promised. The Sabbatical State of Mind is a great place to be and I intend to stay there a while.
Now where's Matt with that hovercraft? Better get moving before the chickens come home to roost.
3 comments:
Steve should write more. It's always enjoyable.
Would you tell him that, please? He doesn't listen to me.
What Laura said. Although I'm still wrapping my mind around the chicken heads...
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