Our water pump. Not working for almost a month. The promise that water will keep running is not assured no more.
Like water: money. Like the river at my friends’ place in Comitan: it dried out, but it’s still there. Like you know it will run again but you don’t know when. Maybe this Monday when the technician comes for the 4th time? There is no guarantee.
Like water and money: Life. There’s no guarantee life will remain on the planet, where anyhow in what space? In what physical space, in what emotional space? Emotional space is the hope, right there is THE place where new space is being created, expanded. All other space is running out, right? You know what I mean? The river. The pump.
So thank you Water pump for not working even after replacing you twice. Thank you dried river. Thank you this sadness, this not knowing. Thank you for seeing how silly it is to convince oneself of having hope. Can i thank all the fear? Can i thank the illusion?
Like the the water pump, don’t want to pump no more. Pumping for hope that things will be “fine”, “nice”, “normal”...
Are you kidding me Life??? Are you for real? I’m already without water, am i not? Actually, I’m not without, but it sure feels like it will run out.
And discover the hope that doesn’t need to be held.
