Sometimes I’d get mad
because things didn’t work out well,
I’d spoil a flapjack,
or slip in the snowfield while getting water,
or one time my shovel went sailing down into the gorge,
and I’d be so mad I’d want to bite the mountaintops
and would come in the shack
and kick the cupboard and hurt my toe.
But let the mind beware,
that though the flesh be bugged,
the circumstances of existence are pretty glorious.
~Jack Kerouac from The Dharma Bums
Little things can bug us. In fact, like a thistle covered with aphids which entices ants, we can be bugged on top of bugged.
Yet we still bloom. We are on notice there is joy to be found. What solace is this?
Though bugs exult in irritating us, flaunting our flawed flesh, it is a reminder of our vulnerability during our short stay on this good earth, bugs and all.
The rest is all glorious, right down to the thirsty roots that hold us fast.