An Ordinary Life

A honey bee makes 1/2 teaspoon of honey in it's life time.
A hive flies 55,000 miles to produce 1 pound of honey.
Some jobs are harder than others.
Every thing works for a living.
Every animal has an ordinary life.
Birds, bees, Sycamore trees, and people keep blooming.

An ordinary Sun.
An ordinary day.
An ordinary blue sky.
An ordinary bed, bath. meal, and job.
Ordinary water, beaches, rocks, trees, mountains, and electricity.
One day at a time, one day at a time, and millions keep passing by.
Ordinary books.
Ordinary friends.
Ordinary blood pumping.
Ordinary deaths, ordinary grief when one of us dies.
So many ordinaries add up to brimming life.

An ordinary life looking back on sandy dusty hills, rose rocks, treks to the barn, egg gathering, a snake or two. We fed the cows, milked the cows, ate the cows. We washed the dishes, washed the clothes, washed the floors. What was that stuff we put on the floors to sweep with? That oily sawdust stuff to control the dust.
Ordinary puppies, piglets, calves, and goats.
Ordinary. Routine.
Ordinary mother and dad.

Reaching across time for that ordinary childhood.
Josephine with tousled hair contorted in amazing configurations on couches and chairs.
Jean at college with college friends.
Janice studying.
Jerry with his bow, arrows, and quiver at ease with John, Don, and Robby lumbering through.
Jeff unafraid of monster movies.
Julia dancing on roller skates, a show to dazzle and amuse parents.
James laughing at everybody.

Camping with watermelons cooling in the stream. Hot summer trips, sleeping under the stars on camp cots with buffalo snuffling. Mother cooking in cast iron pans over the fire.

Ordinary well water.
Ordinary tin tub for playing.
Ordinary clothes; some new, some home made, some Salvation Army.
Ordinary family.
Ordinary possibilities.
Ordinary wants but never hunger.

It's all here, all right now, all right with the world.
The Zen now.

Ordinary, routine, enlightened.