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Monday, November 10, 2014

it's the ordinary that comes to save you



Always we hope
someone else has the answer.
some other place will be better,
some other time it will all turn out.

This is it.
no one else has the answer.
no other place will be better,
and it has already turned out.

At the center of your being
you have the answer;
you know who you are
and you know what you want.

There is no need
to run outside
for better seeing.

Nor to peer from a window.

Rather abide at the center of your being;
for the more you leave it, the less you learn.

Search your heart
and see
the way to do
is to be.

- Lao Tzu





When you look at the next photograph, you'll understand why the line "some other place will be better" spoke to me this morning. It snowed this weekend, and so, suddenly: winter. Which was expected, and likely overdue, but somehow a shock to the system nonetheless. My terrible cold rages on which seems fitting in this weather. Admittedly, I've had thoughts of being elsewhere, this weekend. But there's been a slow relinquishing to the season also. How lovely it is to stay indoors when it's snowing. Because of my hilariously brutal cold I've also succumbed to long afternoon naps where I'm in some deep coma-like state, heavy, lingering dreams.

What I can say is that I'm looking forward to a long winter of turning inward, searching my heart for the way to be.




While Rob was away I treated myself to some grocery store flowers. Two bunches of hydrangeas for 15 dollars.

I'm very glad on this Monday morning to have my small corner of the universe restored. He's down in his studio as I write, beginning a new painting.






And one more poem for the day. By the time you've reached a certain age, something similar will have happened, perhaps more than once.


The Ordinary

by Linda Pastan

It may happen on a day
of ordinary weather—
the usual assembled flowers,
or fallen leaves
disheveling the grass.
You may be feeding the dog,
or sipping a cup of tea,
and then: the telegram;
or the phone call;
or the sharp pain traveling
the length of your
left arm, or his.
And as your life is switched
to a different track
(the landscape
through grimy windows
almost the same though
entirely different) you wonder
why the wind doesn't
rage and blow as it does
so convincingly
in Lear for instance.
It is pathetic fallacy
you long for—the roses
nothing but their thorns,
the downed leaves
subjects for a body count.
And as you lie in bed
like an effigy of yourself,
it is the ordinary
that comes to save you—
the china teacup waiting
to be washed, the old dog
whining to go out.


{source}




And maybe in less drastic situations, still, it's the ordinary that comes to save us.




The cups of tea, the kitchen table, and the occasional purchase of grocery store flowers. And on certain afternoons, the comfort of animal crackers. I'd forgotten how good they are. And, well, adorable.







2 comments:

  1. Every time I get overly stressed I mindfully do laundry. I can't think anything more ordinary than laundry. I say to myself as I'm filling the washer or folding the clothes that this is reprieve - laundry therapy. And it saves me each and every time.

    ReplyDelete

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