Zen Caretaker...

Folk #1: Being caretaker of a stately manor in the Heartland. Actually a couple stately manors. One quite old, one quite new-ish, decidely modern. In charge of a big estate on a frequent schedule when the globe-trotting owners are away, and they are often away. Taking care, living with adorable, little furry beasts. It's a job. A responsibility. The key is to be super-Zen in everything. Thinking of The Way of the Samarai. Watch every step, every breath; be aware, step lightly, live gently. Sure, take charge when you are in charge. Still, every action, every step, is in service to one's retainer. All actions are a sacrifice, and a ritual of service. No lopping heads, think of a Peaceful, totally-woke, Samarai. A wielder of leashes, dancing thru the neighborhood with a pack of Zen-like dogs. Collect the mail, coordinate with the landscapers, the cleaning crew, the plant people, the compost guy, the garbageman, the pool guy. Trouble-shoot flooding, power outages, generator fails. There is a whole little ecosystem built around, and supporting, the manor. Then vanish into thin air. Leave no trace, no evidence, no hint, that you were ever there. Not a speck, not a hair, not a spot, nor a cushion out of place. Erase yourself from the picture completely. That's the Zen aspect. Being there when you are called on to be there, and vanishing, when you are not. This kind of Existence resonates with simple, sustained, authenticity. A job in which you must be your best self always, and then, let it all disappear, give it all up, with no regrets, no tears, no gripes, nothing in which to hold. No needing, wanting, grasping. You retreat back to your humble abode. And reset.