OnceNess
As we walked the pasture loop this morning, it struck me: I had thought when the third week of May came 'round again, I'd revisit the exact time and place where last year the lighting and scene somewhere nearby had been image-worthy. But that time is gone by today, I realize with a certain sadness. I missed revisiting what may have been a one-time-only opportunity. I have to wonder: was I not receptive as I had been a year ago, or had subtle changes happened in the forest, the lay of the land, the turn of the earth on its axis so that what I saw, thought, understood from any particular vantage point last year will never come for me, or for anyone, ever again?
Today, unbidden, possibilities and projects, ideas, phrases and poems have presented themselves while I swept the new room for tonight's company; while I walked the dog down to the low-water bridge and back on our perfunctory morning leg-stretch; even while I showered--often, while I shower, isolated and confined in a warm womb of space, separated from the larger, terrestrial world beyond. I oscillate with eyes closed under a soothing warm curtain of water, and thoughts come. And by the time I have dressed and open the door, they are gone into the troposphere with the steam of my shower. Most of them never come down to earth again, though the scents and echos of their passing remains, ungrasped, unspoken, unwritten.
Carpe diem. It all passes so quickly unless we get it down, unless we capture images in words and pixels, and then can go beyond, to tell the larger story of what those tiny samples tell us in an enormous rushing life we are immersed it but too rarely aware of. The now becomes the water we swim in and ignore, until we pull from time to time outside its current and see what a different world spins around us today than a year ago, than a year ahead, than evermore.
Comments
I think that it's both internal and external worlds that change all the time. To receive, to truly perceive what is there, the internal world has to be in the correct state, whatever that may be for the individual. But then, there also has to be something to receive. My strong suspicion is that there are always things out there to record and interpret, visually or verbally, but that most of the time we're not on the wavelength. Well, better to tune in some of the time than never.
Larry Hunsucker
Posted by: Larry Hunsucker | May 27, 2006 3:11 PM
had to laugh out loud at this, especially the shower thoughts!! a frustration so familiar. my most wonderful word carpets get woven when i am either driving in the car, or just about to fall asleep at night, forpitysake. i still have not mastered the art of operating those little digital tape recorders, nor do i seem to have one handy when the wordsmithing light goes on. i am guilty of carrying notebooks everywhere i go, however, and can write **almost** legibly without looking at the words, either in the car or in the dark. but sadly, it often happens that when i read those words later, they don't have the charm or lustre they did when first heard between the ears. often it's: what the heck was i thinking??!! what tripe! but sometimes there is a seed to savor, to plant, and with some nurturing, it grows into something worth keeping.
but the point is, fred, i think it's more important to just savor. lately i am learning that it is more lovely and wonderful to just lean your head back, drink in the waterfall, absorb the sunset, explore the green shadows, than to try to catch it all in the palm of your hand to save for later. live in the moment, and remember.
Posted by: susannah eanes | May 29, 2006 7:28 PM