today’s Musing written and published from south
Morning walk: -16C/2F, light fluffy flakes falling, Gusta liked the lassie-look-alike she saw but I held my ground as she winched away; sound muffling affect of that light blanket is awesome . .
Energy flows from decisions – mundane ones too - consequences from each, momentum from step-step-step process. The street we live on or beach we walk – or day we attend a conference – alter course of our history, because we experience them, or because of what we will miss had we taken another route that day.
Seneca said: ‘Every new beginning come from some other beginning’s end.’
T.S. Eliot said it better, or more fully I think: ‘What we call the beginning is often the end. And to make an end is to make a beginning. The end is where we start from.’
Thanks – friends, for notes/calls to wish me well; some too to whack me/my words and deeds. Everyone with ‘a little knowledge of a situation is entitled to an opinion’ I suppose. Feedback, including negative, has been valuable for me to hear. Some has been helpful. Some not. That’s how these things work.
This has been coming , like a train you see approaching from far off in the distance - it doesn't get larger/or smaller, it just gets closer, and closer . . until it arrives. Regret has no place in this equation – what we did or what we missed; each element, a product of some tiny little choice.
That arrival, mixes melancholy and relief, clarity and confusion, hurts and hurting – brings action steps, many steps, little decisions – some meaningless, pivotal, profound - hard to pick which ones matter most when they are rapid. In the fullness of time, some will be still be just grains of sand, some will be pearls.
I’ve written often of paths and the gate, on the path, waiting to be opened, marking point of separation between new ideas and the past, between future dreams and past lessons. Recent days; choices to make, steps, more steps – some timid, some bold – along this path. Dealing with these choices, many mundane ones, like choosing which shower curtain to buy or doormat or cleanser, or renting the townhouse I toured last night, are mostly just steps .. in a series of many. I think I’ll like it there. I think Gusta will too. It’s a place that will work – and for now that is what matters; experiences will happen there – ones that can happen anywhere, because the most important experiences happen where WE are.
2010, it appears, will be all new path. Along it, thousands of opportunities to practice impulse control, or not. As I explore path, ‘walk a beach’, chart a course - each profound experience; especially when I consider how softly and innocently it/he/she/they came into my life, reminds me to observe so many little things. They matter more than big things.
Much a-do, change, choice in front of me. All important, or just ‘tings to be done? Many fit a ‘will it be important a year (or ten) from now?’ rationale. Most don’t matter - need to be made, tasks to be done, then items on the mental to-do list will be over; but, how do we know which little are ‘inconsequential little choices’ and which ones alter the course of history, or our little part of it?
Mark Kolke
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RESPONSES/COMMENTS ALWAYS WELCOME; send to musing@maxcomm.ca
December 29 Responses
December 29 – THREE JARS – I hope you find a quiet place. Love you, KT, Mexico City airport, between Puerto Vallarta and Huatulco
December 29 – THREE JARS - Three Jars. Well put. Bit different here, though. Yesterday's Jar? - Purge regularly as with any "storage" space in our life. The most valuable "gems" of our past days lived will settle to the bottom and become even more valuable as time passes. Today's Jar? - Make sure its exploding by the end day! We're never sure what experience of "today" will be passed on to "yesterday's jar" or just savored for the moment and tossed. The day's significance is difficult to assume if we truly live in the moment . The best stock-taking of the Today Jar's content is at bedtime........when blessings are counted. Tomorrow's Jar? - Blissfully empty. Because I cannot grasp the idea of "imagination" as a solid. A pleasant void space that encompasses the idea of hopes, dreams and experiences not yet enjoyed. Just beginning to blossom themselves into the morning when we awake to welcome them into "Today's Jar". LAR, " chillin' " in Wpg, MAN
December 29 – THREE JARS – My mother grew a plant when I was young. She called it yesterday, today, tomorrow. Yesterday's flower was a very pale lilac. Lovely. Today's flower was medium purple. Very nice. Straight forward. Tomorrow's flower was a vibrant, deep hued, luscious royal purple. I thought of this plant when I read of your jars (and thought of my mother who seemed quite fond of this unassuming botanical specimen which struggled to grow in our salty, sandy beach soil.) The sweet, softness of yesterday as it fades in our memories, the reasonable, straightforward grasp we have on today, and my favorite, tomorrow, Kaunakakai, HI
December 28 – HARD TO SEE – Just read yesterdays column... Sitting on the deck in Kihei reading your last couple of columns. Trying to work out how I feel about your Dec 28 announcement. It is a mixture of feelings, sadness, anticipation..... I can understand now your love for
December 28 – HARD TO SEE - Mark old friend, I haven't read your musings in a few days due to concern after my father's heart attack. He's fine, thanks for asking. So, today’s words show clearly you have arrived at the inevitable. Hard to see? Not really. You've been traveling this path for quite some time, and the answer to your question on whether the path getting wider or clearer....I'd say both. You simply made a choice to not continue, knowing you would feel compromised. Not giving up your dream to accommodate another’s may seem selfish at the time, but in the end, being true to self is all we have to live an authentic life. A male friend years ago, shocked me by quoting a poem he memorized, after he had to make a huge life change, which was very stressful. It's by the Pulitzer prize winning poet Mary Oliver. (I may have sent this a year ago, but it is worth repeating. The Journey: "One day you finally knew what you had to do, and began. Though the voices around you kept shouting their bad advice--though the whole house began to tremble and you felt the old tug at your ankles. "Mend my life, each voice cried. But you didn't stop. You knew what you had to do, though the wind pried with its stiff fingers at the very foundations, thought their melancholy was terrible. It was already late enough, and a wild night, and the road full of fallen branches and stones. But little by little, as you left their voices behind, the stars began to burn through the sheets of clouds, and there was a new voice which you slowly recognized as your own, that kept you company as you strode deeper and deeper into the world, determined to do the only thing you could do---determined to save the only life you could save." , SW, Coeur d'Alene, ID
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