not fair

reciprocity collective 1.jpg

not fair

It’s not fair.
Thankfully … it’s not fair.

Fairness can be boring
An even exchange with no sense
Of enduring obligation.

It is like a contract,
Formed to make sure all are satisfied in the end,
Satisfied enough to pay no attention to each other
Satisfied enough to leave and never look back.

But when you have been given a gracious gift
You are connected to the giver.
There is a tie that a grateful heart maintains.
It brings a sense that you must give, as well.

Often, I struggle
Under that sense of obligation.
But reciprocity is the first step toward love.
Would that I could but see that cycle of giving
As a bond of mutual care.

Then, I might learn to join that dance with a sense of joy,
Both giving and receiving with an open heart,
Grateful for the dance, itself.

The focus, when you sign a contract,
Is on what is exchanged.
The focus, when a gift is given,
Is on the relationship.

And that is a true gift.

reciprocity collective 2.jpg

[My thanks to Raymond Boisvert for this insight.]

[photos of the Reciprocity Collective  at Tedx Providence 2018 per cc 2.0]

the web

spider on its webAnd see, once more I am tangled in my own web.
Silly little spider – can’t quite seem to get it right.
I follow the threads as they unfold,
But they keep folding back upon one another.
My feet get stuck in my own glue.
I get wound around the axle and soon I cannot move.

I forget a spider’s web is dependent upon finding the framework on which it its suspended.
It bridges gaps between the limbs of trees or the corners of an eave.
Flat surfaces will not do – there must be a space to bridge.
That’s where you catch ideas: where gaps are open,
Where differences almost converge – and then, on a whispered thread, they do.

It’s when I focus on the web and not the gap that I get tangled –
When I watch myself too closely,
When I worry about the beauty of the web,
Rather than the beauty of connection.

Silly little spider.

[photo by Dave Huth per cc 2.0]