Speaking from the ‘bully pulpit’ once again. Speaking of coincidences here’s what I’m referring to. I was growing a bit bored as the course ‘Starter’. Yes, it’s a significant position on the links. You control the entire flow of play. You’re actually the manager of everyone on the course for the day. Yet, that’s a paltry task compared to previous duties. But then enter Harry, an octogenarian who volunteers as a course ‘ranger’. He relayed to me the previous day’s X-rays revealed a cracked vertebra. He would no longer be able to ride his cart. I offered my position to him. Not something I relished. I was ‘taking one for the team.’ My children have ingrained in me that good karma follows when you help someone out. The more days I put behind me, the more I realize the pieces of my existence seem to assemble themselves into patterns, into different coincidences, whether or not I perceive them. Each piece, whether it be an act, an occurence, a word, or a decision-creeps along in search of its position. Once the piece is there, I cannot remove it any more than I can delete having lived through yesterday. Our hours, with their invisible magnetism, arrange and re-arrange our fate, momen by moment, grinding off our existence.
On another thought, I’m trying to reduce my swearing. Most swearwords, are just too easy to say. Don’t you think if ‘plethora’, for example or ebullient, or somnambulent meant what the f-word means, we’d hear it less often.