Distinguishing “what is really real”
has never been easy
for someone who sees, or imagines,
many things others do not
*
She still laughs when she remembers
her short-lived job driving a van
on the commune where she lived for a few years
to deliver workers to jobs in three states
on winding, hilly country roads
“Oh my,” she thought, as the van filled
with people one-by-one at the end of the day
“It must be their scattered, negative energy
that makes it harder to climb hills or steer.”
It never occurred to her then
that there was a much simpler explanation!
*
Funny, she had excelled in science
but it took years for her to look back and laugh
“Goodness,” she thought, “it’s scary to realize
how much other people’s feelings and beliefs
influence how I make sense of the world”
*
No wonder she found herself drawn
to an increasingly reclusive life
*
I know it’s work, but you’re so fortunate to have so much green and gardens around you. Although we have a beautiful view on one side out our window. Our lovely field and trees are now a construction field. Seeing your home and garden always makes me smile.
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Thank you for such lovely comments, Skywalker, and for sharing sad news about your new neighbor. I remember the anguish I felt when the chain saws tore through the national forest that surrounded my 40 acres when I lived in my northwoods’ cabin near the reservation where my mother was born. I sometimes wonder how many of the gardens I created over the years survived when I moved on.
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A poem to ponder, Carol. I know that some of us are sponges and being a reclusive is safe and comfortable. I wonder if we can also absorb beauty like water and wash the world wherever we go. ❤
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Thank you so much for your thoughtful comments, Diana. 💜
For me, reclusive is not necessarily safer or more comfortable. But it is a small buffer that at least gives me some choices about when, who, and how to engage with others. Your comments brought me back to an experience I wrote about that left me feeling conflicted and uncomfortable.
June 12, 2021
Some mornings on their early walks
her little dog leads her through questionable neighborhoods
unaware of the potential dangers of his choices
for his empathic leash-holder
This morning as they neared a group clustered by the park gate
she felt the energy of a lost and lonely soul
looking for a kindhearted spirit he could attach to like a barnacle
to feed his emptiness without regard for the giver’s wellbeing
She gently shifted course and kept her pace steady
her gaze locked on her dog and the path in front of them
to discourage an encounter that would only break her heart
and drain the little energy she was able to muster
to keep herself breathing for the sake of the little dog
that had no one else to take care of him
In her peripheral vision she saw the thin presence
disengage from the group and walk toward her
she could hear him speaking, seeking attention,
“I used to walk my dog, a German shepherd, … a black lab…”
She knew it was kinder for all
to let the lonely soul remember the old days alone
although the brief encounter broke her heart anyway
…
I am still pondering this experience myself.
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Thank you for sharing that, Carol. I can understand it all. So much is nuance. So much heartbreak and need to feel connected, seen, heard, valued, cherished. You are a beautiful human soul.
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You are a beautiful human soul, Diana. The depth and eloquence of your stories and poetry are such a gift and could only come from a wise, compassionate, generous spirit. 💜
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❤ What a lovely thing to say, Carol. Blessings.
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💜
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A beautiful image to accompany an enlightened reflection.
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Thank you so much for your thoughtful, lovely comments, Dave. It’s such a gift to hear from you. Sending my best wishes. along with apologies for being so slow replying to your email. 💜 (This spring was extraordinary and overwhelmingly busy.)
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It is scary, the outside influences we allow and those that creep in unaware. I find it best to believe nothing—in so much as one can. At the very least, I try for a willingness to let go of beliefs when the proper time comes. I am not only fond of saying, in a jesting sort of way, I’ve been wrong all my life, but I’ve been wrong all my life.
Love the yard, down to the cracks in the walk, collecting like the dignifying lines in the face of the old and wise, they tell of its aging refinement, an unspoken testament to the noble spirit.
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Much like you, Peter, I am hesitant to believe things without a lot of convincing evidence that may make something plausible – but not necessarily true… Life before, within, and after the commune taught me to remain especially skeptical when people with power and privilege are trying to impose their beliefs and agendas on others.
I love the cracks, too, Peter, and am delighted by and grateful for the lovely way you framed their meaning and significance. 💜
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Hello, Carol, I hope you are well. Your post made me want to go outside, sit back in my chair, place a folded newspaper over my face, and snooze listening to the buzz of insects; smiling wryly as thoughts of situations that once caused me concern but no longer do drift in and out of my mind. Believe me, I’ve got lots to laugh about.
Keep safe and well.
Mick.
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Thank you so much or your lovely comments, Mick. It is always a gift to hear from you. Grateful to hear you were able to remember old times with with laughter surrounded by the buzzing sounds of life. Sending my best wishes to you and Jack. 💜
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Lovely, Carol, and your garden looks beautiful.
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Thank you for your always lovely comments, Pam, and for the important information you share about water, gardens, and so many other topics. Sending my best wishes to you. 💜
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Back to you, Carol. 🥰🙏
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A lovely reflection, Carol. It spoke to my heart. [I’m a bit of a recluse myself]. I love your garden too. [ My updated site: https://walesforever.cymru/ ] Love and blessings from Izzy💙
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It’s so good to hear from you, Izzy! Thank you for your thoughtful, lovely comments, and for sending your updated site. I wasn’t able to follow you just now, but I will keep trying! Sending love and gratitude to you! 💜
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Such a beautiful poem. I am an introvert by nature, I need to put in conscious efforts to interact with people. I realize this pandemic has made my introvert nature more dominant….I often find it tiring to even talk to people over phone nowadays.
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