together this year. We bought parsley, green onions, and tomatoes, the makings for tabouli.
Back at home, I stood at the sink for an hour or two getting it ready—washing all the parsley
and trimming the green onions. Tomorrow he’ll put it all together for the Perron family picnic
I’ll be going to.
This didn’t fall in the category of “doing.” It might have last month and might tomorrow.
But yesterday I just emptied the greens into the sink, filled it with water and began.
When I use the word “doing,” I’m almost invariably speaking of something I’m “trying” to
get done. “I’ve got to do that.” That’s about right, I think. How many times have I told myself
I’ve got to do one thing or another? It’s a subtle thing, hard to realize. You don’t see it until you
When I’m not trying, there’s no ‘thought’ of doing. An action commences spontaneously. I
realize, then, that it’s the way of my writings and dialogues, and with a sort of wonder and
surprise, that this way has been joining me in “regular life” a lot more than usual lately. “I” am
Did you know that spontaneous comes from the Latin word sponte – or free will? I didn’t.
What a surprise.