July 4th, 2021 – Reflections about contining rewounding

Not long ago, I wrote a poem

when I was contemplating a move

to a new home with my family

“I wonder … whether you will still love me

if I risk sharing who I can be

in moments of deep reflection

that sometimes make living difficult

in a world that is too busy, distracted, noisy

to listen deeply to the quiet songs of life?”

It turns out that this was a pivotal question

that helped me decide what I needed in my life

in order to stay balanced and hold center

in these tumultuous times

I realized I already live somewhere

that meets my needs at least partially

– a little cottage with a small plot of land

where I can create gardens to tend

despite the work that takes

in ever uncertain weather

surrounded mostly by people too busy

to even notice trees, flowers, and birds

except for elders who take time

to see and appreciate what youth cannot

*

July 4 2021 1

*

As I was watering gardens this evening

during another stretch of heat and drought

sandwiched between intermittent rain

sometimes gentle and sometimes a deluge

I realized that the lack of care I notice

for others and the earth in this neighborhood

is a constant source of rewounding,

a reopening of spirit-deep woundedness

in this windigo (wetiko) culture that celebrates “freedom”

to exploit the earth and people for profit

with firecrackers exploding on this day

with odes to “the rockets’ red glare

My heart is touched by the beauty and wonder of life

yet with each day of neglect and misuse

I feel the life force ebbing

as I wait for someone to simply sit with me

and listen deeply to the songs of nature

before it’s too late

*

July 4 2021 2

*

The art of deep listening, a gift shared by a deep friend:

Dadirri –

“The deep inner spring inside us. We call on it and it calls on us.”

(Dr. Miriam-Rose Ungunmerr)

22 thoughts on “July 4th, 2021 – Reflections about contining rewounding

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  1. Carol, thank you for sharing this wonderful poem and how true it rings
    within me. Bless 🦋

    “as I wait for someone to simply sit with me
    and listen deeply to the songs of nature
    before it’s too late”

    Miriam

    Liked by 1 person

  2. We too (two) live amidst a bunch ( can’t say ‘community’) who neither look around nor desire to. Your words offer deep solace to many of us who sit with you in grateful but ebbing wonder! Thank you!
    Ron

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Ron, it’s such a gift to hear from you! Thank you so much for your thoughtful comments and for sharing your grateful presence. Sending my best wishes to you, too (two). 💜

      Like

      1. A touching poem and a very true poem….your sincere efforts at gardening that creates a beautiful patch of land, is there for anyone and everyone who may choose to rest their eyes on it. It is sometimes frustrating to see the unmindful attitude of few people who are so full of themselves that they fail to appreciate what lies just before their eyes. But I know for sure it makes a difference to lot of people who maybe silently enjoying the view as they pass by. They may not reach out to tell you that. Just keep creating.

        Liked by 1 person

  3. Carol, while no one may sit with you to listen to the songs of nature, do not underestimate the difference your gardens may be making in the lives of your neighbors. I live in an apartment complex so that the gardens I create and maintain are communally shared. In May, I received a thank you card from a young female neighbor with whom I had exchanged greetings at a distance over the years. She was moving out and wanted to thank me: “…for all the beautiful work you’ve done taking care of the plants and flowers. You do an amazing job and I have always quietly appreciated it.” I can tell you lots more stories about my young neighbors, both male and female, who want to learn how to take care of plants. Blessings my dear friend ❤

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you so much for sharing your lovely encounters with your neighbors, Rosaliene. Your gardens are such a gift to others, and I know mine matter to some of the elders who live across the street. One friend harvests rhubarb and lilacs in season. Another stops by to share her garden stories if I’m outside working. This spring, though, I was stuck on my computer grading papers during the nicest weather, so gardens went in very late and struggled through the hot, dry early summer.

      It is deeply troubling watch younger people trash the environment and teach their young children to do likewise. The situation in this neighborhood gives me plenty of opportunities to breathe and remind myself to stay centered on compassion, patience, and integrity. I remember that I garden because I care. Maybe others will learn to do likewise in the future because they had a chance to see a different way of relating to the earth.

      Sending gratitude and blessings to you, sister in spirit. 💜

      Liked by 1 person

  4. Thank you for the poem and your labor for the earth. It can feel so disheartening to see the world moving away from connections, but again and again I am motivated by the work of nonhuman beings, ancestors, and gardeners like you to renew my advocacy.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you so much for your thoughtful, lovely comments, Atreyee, and for the work you do to raise awareness about the need to pay attention to the beauty of nature and be respectful of the fragility of environments and the nuances of cultures. You are a gifted thinker, writer, and photographer and I am grateful that you use your skills in such important ways. 💜

      Liked by 1 person

  5. Hi Carol, I’ve been thinking about you since you wrote the poem not so long ago. Your gardens look beautiful. It looks like a long eared visitor is enjoying them also. I am sure many others enjoy it as well. Lately, the tourists in big boats, all terrain vehicles and noise; lots of noise, are back in force. But I’ve been lucky, sometimes visitors ask my opinion. I show them gardens and mountains and tell them they demand our respect, and they listen and care and want to learn without destroying. To see people see the stars for the first time or hear water cascading off a mountain, to see them moved is a gift as much for me. I have faith. I am powerless when it comes to the masses, but if I can convince one soul planting a garden is worth it, I’m happy, to not be would diminish the gift.
    I visited my friend Ray the other day. He is 102 and I was concerned about him in the hot temperatures we have been having. He was fine. We had a good talk. I asked if he wanted me to pick up some groceries, he said, no, he goes downtown in the morning before it gets too hot. Nobody wants anything done for them anymore. 🙂
    Your gardens look wonderful and I’m sure they mean a lot to passerbys, and others close by, regardless of how them seem. A difference is made one soul at a time – you taught me that.
    Take care dear friend. Bob

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Dear Bob, it is such a gift to hear from you and read your wonderful stories. It’s as if I am hearing them while you speak by a (safe) campfire reflecting its dancing light on the rocky mountain side. Such astute observations, and such wise and wonderful reflections. Sending my best wishes, dear friend. 💜

      Like

        1. I do try to create “gardens” (real or metaphorical) in humble ways in every place I live or work, something I see in the work you do and it seems to be a characteristic many in the blogging community share! 💜

          Liked by 1 person

  6. Thanks for sharing this prophetic reflection Carol. I have heard the word ‘Windigo’ before and it struck a chord with me. When I read it just now I couldn’t remember how I knew it. After reading the description I was instantly acquainted with the concept! Brilliant! It is a state of being that has become the status quo for so many that the rest of us can feel that we are the odd ones out. The black sheep, the rebels and freaks… NO!
    There is an incredible sense of affirmation in learning that a word already existed that perfectly describes an experience, a sense or realization we have on our own, a sense that is not acknowledged generally in our immediate society. That creates a moment of realization that flips the tables. Bam! It’s like the scene in that B grade Horror SciFi movie ‘They Live’ when the protagonist puts on the glasses that allows him to see the aliens around him.

    Liked by 1 person

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