It's Not Oh-ver

I woke up to 4" of snow on the ground today and more falling from the sky. Have you ever watched that late-night TV program called Da Vinci's Inquest? If you have, you get the title of this post. If not, at the end of the program, the main character, coroner Da Vinci, says "It's not Oh-ver" with his Canadian long "o" as the narrator tells how to find more online about the show.

Anyway. This will be an interesting day. My husband has an interview for a great job out of state, and although he's eager to sacrifice his career for mine this time around, it's still a possibility that could change our lives. Exciting.

Yesterday I read more of The Alchemist, and came across another interesting passage. That book has so many great parables for living a thoughtful life, and I'm sure I'll be sharing more of them as I continue to re-read this book.

Let me set this up for you. The boy in the book, who is a shepherd in Andalusia (Spain), meets an old man who tells him he is Melchizedek, King of Salem. The old man's purpose in the book is to intervene and put people on the right track again to pursue their treasure, or "personal legend."

The part of the story I'm about to share picks up just after the old man explains to the boy what a personal legend is.

They were both silent for a time, observing the plaza and the townspeople. It was the old man who spoke first.

"Why do you tend a flock of sheep?"

"Because I like to travel."

The old man pointed to a baker standing in his shop
window at one corner of the plaza. "When he was a child, that man wanted to travel, too. But he decided first to buy his bakery and put some money aside. When he's an old man, he's going to spend a month in Africa. He never realized that people are capable, at any time in their lives, of doing what they dream of."

"He should have decided to become a shepherd," the boy said.

"Well, he thought about that," the old man said. "But bakers are more important people than shepherds. Bakers have homes, while shepherds sleep out in the open. Parents would rather see their children marry bakers than shepherds."

The boy felt a pang in his heart, thinking about the merchant's daughter. There was surely a baker in her town.

The old man continued, "In the long run, what people think about shepherds and bakers becomes more important for them than their own Personal Legends."

It's such an easy trap, isn't it? To fall into a societal hierarchy mindset and choose importance over personal legend? I know I've succumbed to it several times, and yet, interestingly enough, the importance has never been sufficient to quell the yearning in my soul.

What's your Personal Legend? Have you, like me, forgotten it? Or maybe you're living it right now. I'd love to hear your legends and your thoughts about pursuing them.

In the meantime, happy Thursday to you, and here's to the last-ditch efforts of winter to rule the landscape.