My zen thought for the day is this:
"If you cultivate a healthy poverty and simplicity, so that finding a penny will literally make your day, then, since the world is in fact planted with pennies, you have with your poverty bought a lifetime of days. It's that simple. What you see is what you get."--Annie Dillard
I like the ideas of healthy poverty and simplicity. This sentiment certainly feels like one that is borne out of richness though.
Initially it appeals to me--figure out a way to appreciate the most common and small tokens as significant and then experience your full life with the attendant gratitude.
But, then I imagine what I would have to do to get to the place where I appreciate pennies. I mean think about pennies. I used to appreciate pennies more, some time ago, when Geno the loco gringo was collecting pennies (and other found change) to purchase cows in Mexico. I can't explain why he was doing this and even if I tried to, I fear I would end up describing an ogre that looked an awful lot like a windmill. But I guess he isn't collecting pennies or buying cows anymore and at any rate, I quit looking.
Would be nice to get back to appreciating pennies.
7 comments:
Lisa, you remain the champion of the drive-by bloggers. Congrats on that.
I simply cannot imagine that I would reach a state of poverty in which finding a penny would make my day. But while counting out the eleven pennies I needed to pay the exact price of the Caffeine Free Diet Coke I bought for Mari at the White Hen on Clark the other day, I did notice that one of the pennies in my coin purse did not have the Lincoln Memorial on the back. It was dated 1957 and I mentioned this fact to the cashier. She responded with an appropriate level of politeness.
At Mari's school they are collecting pennies for a noble cause. They are accepting other coins, too, apparently, as I found out when I noticed that the tray of dimes on our kitchen counter had been cleaned out.
i'm amazed at the draw I am getting on drive by bloggers. and I appreciate it. how am i getting them?
i agree--the state of poverty in which finding a penny makes my day is a pretty dire state and probably wouldn't end up being healthy, at least not for me. but then what are the pennies in your life? or what could be the pennies in your life if you assumed simplicity and a healthy poverty? that's what i am really wondering.
Coincidentally, we are doing a fund raising in my school called "Pennies for Patients" for people with leukemia. Every day for two weeks kids are encourage to bring some money. The clas that brings more money will get a free pizza party but I didn't even tell my kids about that. I don't think a fundraiser should have an external incentive. We are not collecting as much as other classes (who's teachers bring candy to "bribe" the kids) but I don't care. Every penny counts, right?
dad has a good story about a penny fundraiser. we should get him to tell it sometime.
dad?
merry ann says a penny looks a whole lot better if you can shine it up. for example, i convinced the mentally retarded guys in the halfway house to stop throwing their pennies in the trash by trading them a nickel if they could give me one for each finger of one hand. they thought i was crazy at first, but it caught on.
Well, the pennies Froggy and I search for and save sometimes turn out to be nickles, dimes and quarters. One day I found 30 dollars, a 20 and a 10. Froggy and I now call it "cow money" to buy cows for the poor Mexicans. On my last trip to Mexico I helped Victor and Chico try to save a good old cow. We worked hard for three days but she died anyway. She had fallen off a ledge got a foot caught in some rocks and hung for a couple of days before we found her. You can imagine the work involved lowering a 600 pound cow down to a level spot, carrying grass and water to her, soothing her, and trying to get her up. She finally bloated. Cows can't pass gas so when they bloat, sometimes you have to stick ice picks into their stomachs to relieve the gas and pain. Well to make a long story short, Chico and Victor would not let me do it and they gave her a big pain shot and continued to try to get her on her feet. The new calf had wandered way off down a draw and became victim to a mountain lion or a Jaguar. As I write, I am beginning to think that Chico gave the cow pain medicine to ease her path to the green grass in the sky.
After living with "the loco" for almost 47 years, it is impossible for me to pass a penney on the street, and impossible not to shout, although sometimes silently, "COW MONEY!" I tried to stop them from calling this cow money for years (controlling the controllers in my life) instead of "Find-a-penney-pick-it-up. All-day-long-have-good-luck." I thought this was preferable to the exploitation of cows. I lost. The Loco's continuous search for penneys has indeed caused him to be a good searcher for all denominations. I walked right over the $30 he found! Our little granddaughter searches as well, and runs to put her treasures in the "cow money" jar in Poppy's office). She, too, finds more than I do.
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