My heart pumps BOOM BOOM BOOM as I race to complete the job at hand. My mind like the engine of a formula one car as it screams at high revs but does not tire, like the computer processor chewing the binary it loves, purring at the speed of fly wings, content in the role like a koala at bed time.
My arms lift what they must, fingers grasping, manipulating, feeling.
My internal organs fire and go at their tasks as if the universe willed them on.
DOOF. Ah the pain! All comes to a halt. I've stubbed my little toe. And Oh! He'll make me suffer!
My whole body may fire on full power as my little toe rests, contributing nothing compared to even one tooth or hair. Should I upset the lazy toe though? It won't forgive one bit.
Perhaps, seeing life from his perspective we can see how he supports the other toes, keeping them in as they spray outward under the pressure of weight baring and flexing. Perhaps we see the aesthetic contribution, the balancing of the pentadigit limb appendages or be thankful for the contribution to the decimal system. How else could we count beyond 10!?
Yet no, the little toe has a way to go before it can be classed in any way as useful like any other body part: even a mere hair contributes towards insulation on the head, redirecting sweat from the forehead and out of the path of the eye by the eyebrow, contributing towards our loved sense of hearing in the ear or keeping muck from the nose. The little toe is supplied blood and goodness, a long a restful life and contributes near zilch.
I love my little toe though, how could I not?
Happiness is not wanting to change a thing.
And life is warm contented bliss (for my little toe at least).
You can check out Ta-Wan's other musings here.