The Taste Of Water

The child drinking from sippy cup to the Guatemalan woman walking miles, we all have experienced it. The taste of water. A stop on the John Muir trail, the first place I remember. Snowmelt. Good water. I liked water from that green garden hose. This was better. Brighter than bottled. How to explain the taste of water? Start with the negative? What water isn’t? Quantify it? Add in cold. We always say, ‘cold and clear.’ Is clear a flavor note?

My uncle built a house in California gold country. Water from a well. Chill water flowing up from rock and river, igneous, slate and marble. Satisfying and creating thirst. You can’t imagine. Unless you’ve gone without, climbed a mountain, chopped a cord of wood, sweat salt-white dripping into your eyes. Now you can taste it. Almost.

The smell of water after it splashes the pavement. Music spills out of courts and corners, tangible and ubiquitous. Thousands coming for the festival; Sukkot, ‘the season of our joy.’ Children scamper, adults meander, wall to wall they fill walkways. On a high point in the courtyard a man stands and cries out, “If anyone is thirsty I will give you drink!”

A crowd forms around the man. Where is his hat for tips? What magic will he do? A mother walks by, father and children in tow; they’re hungry and must be fed. A man from the beach city slows, “Finally repayment for my taxes!” Some come thirsty. That man’s voice cries out again, distinct. The music has hushed. His cry elicits their response, “Oh give us this water!”

Water gives life and water kills. Well water is great but not if it’s high in Chromium-6. River water taste great but may hide Giardia. Water’s flavor depends on where the water comes from. If you get water from a well, it might have a slightly mineral or chalky taste because it’s passed through layers of limestone deep underground. Water will temporarily slake thirst. There’s water that’ll put you together when you’re broken, that gives sight to the blind then splashes out in an everlasting stream. That’s some good water. We are the crowd. We are the entitled. Oh Rabbi, give us this water!

Clown Make-Up and Joy

Of course there was an award. The best costume of the day would win a $25.00 gift certificate.

I dress up for fun. I find the entire process enjoyable; conception to culmination, there is delight in being in-character. I'm satisfied to push a little on my personal envelope, even as I step out a little beyond my box. I know the outfit rocks. The customers love it as well. Some say they need the laugh, others just stop in their tracks.

I was delighting in the experience, finding joy in the process, until somebody said to me, "You will probably get the award." Suddenly, my focus changed to the award. For some brief moments, it became about getting the prize. When that happened, I felt joy leave, and a heaviness ensue. Now it was all about the competition and the prize. Furthermore, now it was up to others to vote me "Best Costume." The end result of the process wasn't up to me.

This end of joy can come to us just as quickly in the midst of everyday living. One moment we are finding joy in the presence of God, in the fellowship of friends, laughter, wind and Sun. Moments later, perhaps unawares, our focus changes direction, and joy is lost.

I need a new job, that shiny car, the new girls' attention, the 47-inch screen television. These become the goal. My joy is now up to somebody else, and a positive end means getting that goal met.

Joy is found in those things I can change. Joy is found in the process. Joy is found in the present. Joy is satisfied in the future. Ultimately, joy is its own reward.

"...Fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God."