The Watch Pot

The Watch Pot

My Grandmother always told me: “The watch pot never boils” and it wasn’t until years later that I even knew what that meant. It strikes me now more than ever as entirely prophetic.

On so many fronts we’re waiting for the fruition of, truth, events unfolding, ancient prophecy playing out, radiation pollution, the revaluation of world currency etc...I know I’m missing many personal ‘watch pots’ as well.

The gurus and watch pot experts clamor to the fore front of the “worthy” podium, each one desperate to catch truth/prophecy on the cusp of release and go down as “the one”.

Frustration runs on high as each day squeezes from an uneventful stage of waiting. Even when I was a child and knew of the exact arrival of Santa Claus, I was frustrated because I always drifted to sleep before he got there. I woke on Christmas morning to find he’d come and gone, but the gifts he’d left supplanted my disappointment, and the half eaten cookies and empty milk glass were evidence enough.

And then, one day I found out there was no such thing as Santa Claus, nor Easter Bunny, and my fantasy world came crashing down. The first metallic taste of cynicism began to emerge and grow from that point on. Doubt began to manifest when words left the mouths of the “adult truth tellers”, adults weren’t part of any credibility in my kid world for a good long time.

I began to stir the pot of my own truth and seriously began to wonder why I’d been released into this world of false prophecy. Things were never as they were advertised, bright pictures and clever packaging always turned to mundane lackluster plastic replicas.

I began to imagine that anything coming into my life via the future would always disappoint me, and to a great extent I was never let down.

Until I understood that it just wasn’t a good idea to “hope” good things into my life. I knew early on I would “fail” according to the system, I proved it over and again just by showing up.

Survival depended on simply knowing I could at least clear my own happy path of existence without having to be let down by empty promises.

This coping mechanism lead me to where I am today minus the cynicism because I’ve always known there was no room for me within the status quo. I was average at best in my own estimation, a rudder looking for a ship.

Again, here I am today, the ‘watch pot’ sits on top of the future, we’re all aware of that. Vultures lurk above as they were born to do, it’s all they know, so how can they be at fault?

We are here behind our collective goggles, the wind is in our faces because this  ride has been in progress since we were born to it, no?

There is no riding in “front” for the lucky ones that may see the first of many twists and near crashes. We were all born riding in the front, that’s why we are here, maybe the “pretend riders” think they are in front, and they profess to know our collective direction, but then we all know this ride has never had a definitive direction. How could it?

I’m here because I put myself here. No one told me it would be in my best interest to fail most of my life, to always be searching and uncovering, to hurt emotionally on purpose, to cast aside apparent happiness as though it wasn’t deserved. I know now that it’s all part of this ride and I have to remember the watch pot can’t be hurried, or its portent pretended.

When nothing matches but it fits the perfect symphony of all that is and ever will be according to a certain something we are all feeling, that’s apparently when the watch pot may boil.

But I don’t know for sure, does anyone? I only know why I’m here, because I happened to be replete with all the amazing faults of an imperfect/perfect world.

I’m ready to keep riding.

Graham