The Grandpa Guru...

Occasionaly, when I want to escape the fluroscent buzz from my work and the lobotomy drill sounds from the one dollar coffee machine, I often meander down the street only to get stuck on the first shop on the corner. It's an 'Artisan Quebecois' shop primarily full of art, shoes and clothing made from local native artists with the exception of overseas products from Asia.
The man who runs this crowded little boutique is seventy years of age with gigantic ears, a huge nose and the appearance of a garden gnome who's look has been magnified.
He's become somewhat of a friend over the last few months because I seem to get lost in his store full of trinkets and pretty things and then before we know it we're both babbling away. To be honest, I have no idea of this mans name and in fact we have never even thought to exchange such knowledge but to give you a brief idea of him I have adopted him and named him my Grandpa Guru.
(Not that he has any idea of this, of course.)
He's the type of man - if you're ever privy to meet one - that has lived a life to it's fullest.
I recently had a problem regarding the cross bearing word choice. So one darkening afternoon, I opened up to him. I laid out all my thoughts and fears regarding this choice I felt somewhat responsible to make.
He stood leaning over the counter, listening like only a person with time can. I finished and waited.
He began with a story that went like this.
One day when he was travelling in a handmade canoe packed with stock through the Amazon Jungle, the water began to pick up pace. There were two other canoes also carrying cargo in front of their two maned vessel. He could see the rapids up ahead crashing against the rocks. The first canoe entered this dangerous part and turned over losing all their stock and injuring a man. The second canoe also turned over as they hit the troubled waters. The young Grandpa Guru lept into action ordering the other man in his canoe to copy him and lie flat. They lay flat just as they were entering the danger zone. The canoe rocked and tossed but regained its equilibrium.
"So you see," he says over the gypsy-jazz playing in the background, "if I hadn't got the guy to work with me we wouldn't have got through those fucking waters. And when the moment of choice comes about in your life, you'll have to work together with what you've got."
"But I wouldn't worry about anything until then..." he adds, "life has a strange way of working everything out. In the long run..."

I thanked Grandpa Guru and left feeling like I could get through those waters even if I had a canoe full of screaming cats.