A story about a rusty nail

This is a true story. It’s about a rusty nail.

nail

I grew up on a potato farm on the west coast of South-Africa. As a kid, I would wander around, playing outside or discovering new things in the old “scrap yard” that was just a stone throw away from the house. One day as I was walking in the scrap yard, I stepped in a rusty nail. It went in quite deep, and because of all the stories I’ve heard about how dangerous rusty iron can be, I ran home to find help. Unfortunately the only person that was home that day was my grandmother, who was the most cautious person I knew. She ran around the house, searching for remedies for diseases I didn’t yet have, and probable never will. There were several disinfectants, hot water and a lot of salt involved, but she still was not content. After a while she came back holding a container. She said: “I don’t know what this is, but it says ‘helps against rust’ on the container”. I busted out laughing as I realised that she was holding a bottle of my mothers sewing machine oil.

oil

 

 

 

 

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About Die reis

So....I really believe that I’m not the only person feeling this way. Like Lucius Annaeus Seneca  put it: "If one does not know to which port one is sailing, no wind is favorable." And that's exactly my problem...I have no idea where I want to be. I’m content in the moment, but is constantly restless about the future. I have too much of a hunger for success and fulfillment to just leave it there, but never in my life have I had a clear picture of where I want to be. Therefore I want to make life about the journey. I want to appreciate life for what it is, and not let the small things pass me by without noticing them. For the "where do I want to be?"...maybe I will find out along the way.
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2 Responses to A story about a rusty nail

  1. Tim says:

    Wow, that must have hurt!! It is a pretty funny story though 🙂

    P.S. “was not contempt” –> “was not content”

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