Forging an Indelible Mark on Destiny's Anvil

In blind essence, (like the steel beneath the hand of a blacksmith's anvil} we are learning how to serve

. Yes, I said serve'. [A most revered activity to behold.] Although we can't possibly realize how much genuine satisfaction we will receive, the benevolent act brings with it untold rewards. Serving does not mean doing those things we want to do, like to do, feel good about doing but doing those things we don't necessarily want to do or want to go through to get it done, for that matter. Think of Mother Theresa who declared that "cleaning toilets' was highest profession one could ever aspire to. In fact, we are preventing ourselves from truly enjoying all sorts of delicious pleasures simply because we have jumped the gun' in the interpretation of a certain unpleasant situations, involvements and/or circumstances. "Get over it." As long as we drag it behind us, (meaning: twisting and turning the blame-guilt-regret-grief game over and over in our mind}, we are unnecessarily heavy, unproductively old, sexually unappealing and in- affectionately ugly. Let's get on with the sacred rocking and rolling' high-spirited, life-producing, youth-generating, sensually artistic, mentally stimulating, incalculably curiously undefined direction of our beneficent lives. I'm up for it, are you?

Forging an Indelible Mark on Destiny's Anvil

By: Paula Andrea Pyle, MA

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