today’s Musing written and published from
Morning walk: -5C/22F, fog like near-snow sky hovers, thick ceiling, dank day in search of some global warming; Gusta just wanted to re-visit one spot she’d come across last night and then, after thorough review and committing that smell to dog-memory, we moved on.
It is true, there are some things we enjoy, some we live for, and some we could happily die having never experienced; these are neither good nor bad, right nor wrong . . but inevitably clear. Within our limits – or without them – issues are separated by these firm lines known as boundaries; some drawn in the sand, some in the air, some set in concrete. Most of us have these in some form, some have built fences around every issue and, thankfully, only a few have no concept of boundaries whatever.
Notions of ‘this is OK’, and that ‘isn’t’, are formed in our youth and influenced by our experience. Moving boundaries, changing solid line to a dotted one, is not for me a big issue. What I’ve learned, is that reluctance to discuss what’s on the other side of those lines – is an important measure, for me, in how I see people. It forms part of that ‘what we believe and why we believe it’ scenario that matters so much; but, that is my view.
It’s not foggy out there, I just can’t see far into the future - sometimes have difficulty seeing what is really going on, because I only see through our own lens/bias . . and tend to see things as I want them to be, see others as I wish them to be – just as they have their own notion of who I/we/they should be. Missed-communication can occur in an email nanosecond or in conversation devoid of inflection or raised eyebrow, so easily we get it wrong, so often we get it nearly right – but who knows?
‘Things do not change; we change.’- Henry David Thoreau
This year, already, seems to be one for changes and making memories for me; new experiences, people of intrigue, have been crossing my path. I see more and better opportunities looking forward than I could looking back; besides, looking back or going back or viewing the past only has value if I intend on going there . . . . and I don’t.
There is a need in us, in me at least, that aches for the simple; this is perverse because I am far from simple and I tend to avoid simple people – because I’m drawn to the complex ones, not always ‘dark ones’ in terms of temperament or unresolved issues, but because the complex intrigues me. Complex can be soft and warm – or adventurous of body, mind and spirit – or all of these things; but sometimes things just need work, a paint roller and a lawn mower to spruce up our lives, trim our rough edges . .
Finding a new friend, revisiting a past acquaintance is really about the same – we know nothing until we explore, poke, prod, test, watch, listen – when first, we seek to be friends – fine fabulous friends.
Truth is everywhere, but ideas hide; they pop out when the right stimulus collides with them – but, the rest of the time, they hide. Whether we are modest shy quiet folks (not me) or the other kind (me) the provocation is not the idea, but the provocation reveals and exposes the idea - we expose the ideas . . what then?
Do they become our new life force, or do we just push them aside as inconvenient accidents. We are, after all, grazing on life with the relaxed pleasure because the grazing is good and water is so abundant to nourish us and to wash away everything that stands in our way; our greatest obstacles to success being our ears and the mass between them.
~~~
IT IS TRUE
Remarkable people come,
they go, they pass us by
and we – observers are,
of those who deliver.
They come, they stay
awhile, and looking back
all we see is what never
was nor could have been.
They don’t change us
but we change how it is
we see the things that
we see, because of them.
~~~
Eleven years ago today, my mother drew her last breath. Remarkable is a good word to describe her tiny being, her stubborn will and lasting memory . . . an impossible person at times, and improbable one too, she left more behind than DNA, traits behaviors; memories both good and bad fade, but they fade very slowly. That’s good, I think.
Mark Kolke
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RESPONSES/COMMENTS ALWAYS WELCOME; send to: musing@maxcomm.ca
March 24 Comments
March 24 – BON JOUR – Bingo! , PL,
March 24 – BON JOUR – Hi Mark: "to act as you have always acted...hmmm very true ..I keep getting the same results.. small wonder!! Those words made me stop in my tracks. I really do need to do my life differently. I am going to
March 24 – BON JOUR – 'What separates us is neither our differences, our geography or our feelings - what separates us is our willingness to give voice to our feelings.'' - I'm not so sure about that, I think what separates us is our un-willingness to give voice to our feelings. When we open up, share our feelings, bare our souls, we become real. The act of being real makes room for empathy if some one truly listens. We all have the same feelings and a need to be heard, understood, and loved. Just maybe part of the problem is that when we give voice to our feelings the person hearing what we say is not really listening. Listening with an open heart is a form of art for the soul. When we hear another person’s angry words, if we listen clearly, we just may also hear the pain and fear behind those words, LT, Long Beach, CA
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