Below is an interlude I found today that best described one of the feelings I had during my camino. Here are the full text from the interlude...
It doesn’t matter if you have dandruff. It doesn’t matter if you have pimples. It doesn’t matter if you run out of gas. It doesn’t matter if you smoke. Or don’t smoke. Or have a beard, or not. It doesn’t matter if your computer crashes. It doesn’t matter if your new colleagues hate you. It doesn’t matter if you lost your keys. It doesn’t matter if your career is a success. It doesn’t matter if you can’t remember his name. Or if they laugh at you. Or love you. It doesn’t matter if you’re a success. Probably, it doesn’t matter if you get fired. It doesn’t matter if you’re too fat. Or too thin. Or too ugly. Or beautiful. Or if your hair is nice. Or your teeth. It doesn’t matter if you’re single. Or ignored. Or praised. Or overworked, but praised. It doesn’t matter if you fail university. Or if your loved one leaves you. It doesn’t matter if your food is too salty. It doesn’t matter if you’re on a hang-over. It doesn’t matter if you can write or draw or sing or compose. It doesn’t even matter if you’re terribly bad at sports. Or not.
Nah.
What matters is that you’re living healthy n’ peaceful and that you have enough food to eat and that you don’t shiver at night and that you help others to live healthy n’ peaceful n’ all just the same.
The rest will follow. Right?
Friday, September 8, 2006
On what matters
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