today’s Musing written and published from
Morning walk: 4C/39F, early cold showers will turn to snow later (I thought we were done), those skinny developer-planted trees with their leaves just sneaking out of buds are wary if they’ve listened to the forecast, Gusta only cared to run and smile
‘The most affectionate creature in the world is a wet dog.’ – Ambrose Bierce
On rainy days, cheery music gets us up - isn’t civilization grand!
Different if you are cold, wet, alone, down, out, lost, forgotten.
You aren’t. Lucky you. Lucky me.
I’ve not been there, but I was on that slippery slope once, and the view wasn’t pretty. Maybe those experiences have given me some insight worth sharing . . . maybe not . . . depends on your vantage point.
Some days there are no words left - some days we face scary, face exciting, but some days go the other way for many of our fellow citizens here on planet civilization. My job today is to point out some things - not to get you down but to get you thoughtful, about those who start their day with shakes and chills and deepest kind of down - to remind that we are all, but a step or two away from where they are, that we are they and they are we, in so many ways:
So easy, to judge the path of the other person, those on the other side of some great divide – but really, aren’t we all just a big chain, only as strong as its weakest links?
We can all be strong, all the time, but sometime weak sneaks in, or sneaks up, on us - what then? Some days, like yesterday, someone gives me a prod, somebody provides a word trigger (yesterday it was ‘not so heavenly bound that I'm of no earthly good’) that started it - this morning’s chilly rain completes the mood.
Days starts with belief we will be OK, that our nose put to some grindstone creates a good life, safety, health and prosperity. We all start that way, don’t we? Some notion planted by parents and school, friends, TV, society – they all do it; but for many life isn’t so fine. I don’t just mean homeless indigent folks or those stuck in (or on) crack or mired in an unforgiving rut. The distance between here, and there, is not so vast.
Where do we look? In our comfortable homes, in our clean shiny mirror or in the reflection of our opulent lives? Is reality in our own mirror?
Or, is it down an alley in early morning – where we don’t drive or look, where down and outers get to be down (over there) and out (out of our sight) – as we deny that reality. There is hope, for them, for us too – if we recognize that understanding isn’t doled out by governments who fund things with our money, or by policy makers who never get their hands dirty.
There are dark places we avoid – not because we can’t stand to see them, but because we don’t want to consider the possibility that we might be there, be them, be swirling life’s drain without a lot of hope.
The first hour of every day, you, like me, wake up safe and warm – out of the weather and meander around our safe cocoon, reading a paper, sipping coffee, our routine rarely interrupted by reality – we risk going out into a world where traffic might snarl or people might too, where we rub shoulders and sometimes encounter a cold shoulder – but our prospects are largely good, our optimism brimming, no end in sight . . .
As you pause over coffee and paper, remember not everyone starts their day safe and warm, with expectations of a happy ending; some are down some dark alley huddled against the rain, teeth chattering, but they could just as easily be sitting in the chair next to you, or the chair next to the chair next to you (if you get my meaning).
On a much lighter note, I found this quote that made me smile:
‘If there hadn’t been women, we’d still be squatting in a cave eating raw meat, because we made civilization in order to impress our girlfriends.’ – Orson Welles
~~~
DOWN THE HALL FROM IT
No earthly good you might be thinking, but fear not
those down and out, these downcast ones for there are
seeds of great strength sewn within their weakness,
where, in silence, it lurks there, stuck there, not cowering
‘neath shrouds of strength, but waiting all the same,
to erupt again, thrusting, like scalding hot lovers’ writhing
through life’s torrid pace – first frenetic, next moment cold,
then limp, then hotter, frantic fear, manic exhaustion,
staggering, sweaty, stretching from triumph to failure,
from failure to triumph, again, samefuckingroutine-like pattern,
like some wavy bell curve on a hospital machine, because,
like all of us, they too are seeking every last breath of life,
to suck up every last half-ounce of life, to use it completely
before death, with such an urgency as that which is reserved,
generally, for those who so piously seek it after death.
Their bed made, you see, every day they lay, sink deeper in it,
tougher each time to find their way out, no matter if hands
lift them up enough to keep them up enough, such high risk,
of falling back again, or through some crack, again,
no bed to lay in, again, no roof to cover, again, no place to just be,
without being so angry, again, misplaced again, that they forget,
again, and lose strength again, drained, again – stark contrast
with life they see rush by, fast cars, fancy houses, cozy lives
of those smugly resting in snug beds, who forget they too are but
one step, one slip, one fall, away from it, just down the hall from it,
they too might be dim lit and dire, so close, yet so far from the
fire of life that they chose to live, before life is gone from them,
that no earthly good can keep safe, because it is life before death,
as surely as there is life after for those who believe it but for some,
life is a prison, a life sentence.
~~~
link to archive – The Poetry Project
Mark Kolke
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RESPONSES/COMMENTS ALWAYS WELCOME; send to: mark@markmusing.com
April 27 Comments
April 27 - I QUIT, ACTUALLY I JUST CUT BACK - Hi Mark: Read the book the Power of Full Engagement. Talks about it is not time we need but energy, PL, Calgary, AB
April 27 - I QUIT, ACTUALLY I JUST CUT BACK - House is upside down as I sort and pack away clutter, but, sorting and de-cluttering is a kind of purging of stuff. I can see why you have been giving away things. The things had meaning, but the meaning continues even without the thing. Good luck with paring back your email, FO,
April 27 - I QUIT, ACTUALLY I JUST CUT BACK - Thanks to AR in
April 27 - I QUIT, ACTUALLY I JUST CUT BACK - Your ‘Like
April 27 - I QUIT, ACTUALLY I JUST CUT BACK - Haven't received musings since April 17 - I assume I was accidentally dropped from the list? , KK,
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