Contradictions

The day was so splendid,

so warm,

with white puffy clouds

pasted into the blue, blue sky

that I ventured out

into my garden

to enjoy

the little piece of paradise

I've created

with lots of help from Mother Nature.

As I rounded the corner of my house

and started down the path

of granite stepping stones,

I noticed my feet moving from one stone to another

and I thought to myself,

"I am traveling on a sacred path."

"Everything is part of the Divine."

"Everything is Sacred."

I was feeling quite satisfied

with my exalted self

(well, at least my inflated sense of it).

And then,

Coyote just had to serve me a dose

of contradiction and comeuppance.

"Look here," said Coyote,

pointing with his rainbow paw

and shining a laser-light

on my tender young hostas.

And I followed his gesture

with my eyes.

And there, I saw

HOLES in my beautiful, finely-veined hostas.

Incontrovertible evidence that

a slug was dining in my garden.

How dare that slimy little @#*&%^

treat my hostas like a salad bar!

Out went the "everything is sacred" thought.

Exceptions were made for slugs.

And I became a single-minded killer

of a hosta-eating piece of the Divine.

Take that, I said, sprinkling pet-neutral slug bait

in a ring around each clump of newly-emerged hostas.

Life is full of contradictions.

But even if we step off it

for the briefest moment,

we can reclaim our place

on the Sacred Path.

How do you confront contradictions

in your beliefs?

How does Coyote

poke holes in your inflated

sense of importance?

I can't be the only one.

Can I?