On the Fulfillment of Word


(ILOCOS NORTE, La Paz) At some point, even the desert will bloom. At the right point. (Photo taken by the author.)

(ILOCOS NORTE, La Paz) At some point, even the desert will bloom. At the right point. (Photo taken by the author.)

Blankness.

In my head and on the screen.

I could go home now. (I should go home now.) It’s been a long day (a demanding day) and I could, with all modesty, say I deserve a rest.

But part of me insists that I hold to this practice (as I’ve held on to other practices I’ve returned to since the start of the year), even if I feel exhausted, even if I believe it’s fruitless, because these tiny acts of defiance (these valiant expressions of will) are my exercise in endurance, in forbearance and in patience.

Because truth be told, the daily little labors have yielded a pitiful harvest so far, and the me from as recently as a few months ago would have given up in petulant resignation.

(Because who, in this day and age, has either the time or the energy for fruitless and pitiful little labors?)

But what I’m discovering (or rediscovering) as well is the fulfillment that comes from simply doing what I said I would do, regardless of the outcome (or the lack thereof). There’s a wholeness to be found in the congruence between intention and act, in the equivalence between thought and deed.

Let the universe reward my intentions when it will.

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2 thoughts on “On the Fulfillment of Word

  1. Dino says:

    While humans are “free” to do what they want, I often find that freedom is nothing if not applied to something. Committed if you will.

    It feels good doing what you said you would. Giving up, on the other hand, could become a habit best never practiced.

    Like

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