Dad's Math Book

I am thinking of my dad today. He showed up in my dream last night more clearly than ever before. He was telling me to put a bookcase in my room where my daughter could leave me questions she had about math problems.

I loved my dad's math books. He kept his high school and college text books around the house, algebra, geometry, calculus. I loved them because I could solve the problems and this gave him pleasure. I understood that strange language of greek symbols, angles, lines, and shapes. It was so satisfying to solve each problem of my homework, check in the back to see if I got the answer right, move on to the next problem to solve. With each assignment completed, I felt as if I had really accomplished something.

I search now for the completeness of accomplishment but its not as easy to find. No one is grading me anymore, there are no games to win, I don't get any bonuses in my line of work. Their isn't a conceivable end to the "to do list." Perhaps its not in the "getting" and "doing" but in the "giving" and "being" where satisfaction resides now in my ripening middle aged life. Its hard to remember this sometimes. When I can be present in the moment, I can find completeness, satisfaction, accomplishment enough. Its not so easily tied up like a math problem given is aliveness and ever changeability. With grace, I find the still point in the river that remains unchanged even as the waters rush by.