A Brick.

I was listening to random music, tracks I had not listened to in ages. I found myself singing along with the song, another brick in the wall. I had not heard that song in ages but it started the wheels turning in my mind.

I thought about this painting I did some time ago. it was an old brick wall that nature had turned into a thing of great beauty. That out of ruin and despair there can grow some beauty.

I was finding that as I grew older I was travelling the same road as so many others.

I was becoming grumpy. Now when that happens something else happens, you begin to see all of life from your own perspective. You no longer see the young lads having fun in the backfield, all you hear is the noise of their playing. The next thing is you want to point out to them the notice saying that they should not be playing football there or for that matter ball games.

Instead, I should maybe be questioning why the notices are there. They were doing no harm and having great fun. Maybe an age limit to who plays ball games would be more relevant. Older children can do more damage kicking a ball with all the added strength they have.

A young and very successful executive named Andy was travelling down a busy neighbourhood street. He was going a bit too fast in his sleek, black, 12 cylinder Jaguar XKE, which was only two months old.

He was driving with some care, watching for children running out from between parked cars and slowed down when he thought he saw something. As his car passed, no child darted out, but a brick sailed out and with an almighty bang smashed into the Jag's shiny black side door!

He slammed on the brakes hammered the gears into reverse, and reversed the Jaguar back to the spot from where the brick had been thrown. He jumped out of the car, grabbed the kid and pushed him up against a parked car. He shouted at the kid, "What was that all about and who are you? Just what do you think you are you doing?!" 

Building up a head of steam, he went on. "That's my new Jag, that brick you threw is going cost you a lot of money. Why did you throw it?"

"Please, mister, please. . . I'm sorry! I didn't know what else to do!" pleaded the young lad. "I threw the brick because no one else would stop!" Tears were dripping down the boy's chin as he pointed around the parked car. "It's my big brother, mister," he said. "He rolled off the curb and fell out of his wheelchair and I can't lift him up." Sobbing, the boy asked Andy, "Would you please help me get him back into his wheelchair? He's hurt and he's too heavy for me, I need to get him home"

Moved beyond words, Andy tried desperately to swallow the rapidly swelling lump in his throat. Straining, he lifted the young man back into the wheelchair and took out his handkerchief and wiped the scrapes and cuts, checking to see that everything was going to be OK. He then watched the younger brother push him down the street towards their home.

It was a long walk back to the sleek, black, shining, 12 cylinder Jaguar XKE -a long and slow walk. Andy never did fix the dent in his Jaguar. He kept the dent to remind him not to go through life so fast that someone has to throw a brick at him to get his attention. 

Some bricks are softer than others.

We need to feel for the bricks of life coming at us. For every negative, there is in life, with a little thought and time we can see that there is also a positive. 

This is the way of the Tao. Have a wonderful day.