Sunday, April 17, 2022

April 17: Killed Him for Pride, Easter Sunday, a Bug

Santiago keeps thinking about sin . . . 

But he liked to think about all things that he was involved in and since there was nothing to read and he did not have a radio, he thought much and he kept on thinking about sin. You did not kill the fish only to keep alive and to sell for food, he thought. You killed him for pride and because you are a fisherman. You loved him when he was alive and you loved him after. It you love him, it is not a sin to kill him. Or is it more?

"You think too much, old man," he said aloud.

But you enjoyed killing the dentuso, he thought. He lives on the live fish as you do. He is not a scavenger nor just a moving appetite as some sharks are. He is beautiful and noble and knows no fear of anything.

"I killed him in self-defense," the old man said aloud. "And I killed him well."

Christ is risen!  Easter Sunday.  One of the strangest I've ever had, with no big family hoopla (that happened yesterday).  I stayed at home, took naps, and watched movies with my son.

Sometimes, I get cocky.  Full of pride.  As if I the world owes me something.  It doesn't.  In fact, I would say that I'm a bug, and the world is a pickup truck's windshield.  

Saint Marty's koan for today:  killing something well doesn't make killing right.

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