Lesson from a Chair

We have a wooden chair with a round, red leather seat. The leather is tacked to the wood with bronze nailheads close together around the circle. The chair swivels and rocks. It was Butch's grandfather's chair. Or was it his dad's chair? Either way, it has a history - a history of butts. How many butts have sat on this wood and leather seat? How many bodies have swiveled and rocked? How many sets of arms have rested on it's wooden arms? These are curious questions. Were they just family members? Did the women ever use the chair? Or did they clean it and not sit in it? Did the kids twirl around when Dad wasn't watching? Did they sit in his lap in this chair? What would the chair tell us about it's experience? Skinny butts? Fat butts? Did it long for lighter, shaplier butts? It looks healthy and strong. Did butts make noises on it? Did it care? Men's butts, women's butts, little boy butts, little girl butts, teenaged butts, black butts, white butts, asian butts, indian butts - did it know which butt was there? Or maybe there was just one or two butts before mine. I think there were lots of butts that tried it out; that even sat there just once. I'm glad I'm not a chair. I would rather look at butts than have to hold them all the time. That would get boring for me. For a chair, however, that is it's purpose. At least it knows it's purpose and stands ready to fulfill it - beckoning anyone who wants to sit. I wish knowing my purpose were that easy. A chair just has to sit there and "be" and it's purpose is evident. If I just sit there and "be" will my purpose become evident? Perhaps. That would be meditation. Isn't that a purpose of meditation - to discover your purpose?