While
While finishing a novel in today's late afternoon at a park near the college not far from my house, I found myself nodding off. As I was easing into a catnap the sigh in my head, "Who wouldn't like this? Falling asleep on a blanket on the grass under the shade of an oak tree on a summer day...."
As sentimental as it sounds, I think it was more from having been being away from home so much that this Summer seems to be going by quickly, and many of the recreational or revitalizing things I've enjoyed in the past summers occur only occasionally. It's not a complaint, though; in fact, it's in my mind that I appreciate all of it all the more because my life is varied now.
While walking last evening my husband told me about the movie of "Beowulf," from beginning to end. For two hours while walking, even in the dark on the way home, he explained the entire play of the film. I'd interject something here and there with an idea about the symbols of the mythology, but mainly, I listened with true delight. I didn't watch it with him the weekend he rented it (or borrowed it, I'm not sure), whenever he did, and I'm so glad I didn't. Because it was a wonderful re-telling last night. I was a captive audience of one.
This is a great happiness.
The air is silk.
There is milk in the looks
That come from Strangers.
I could not be happier
If I were bread and you could eat me.
Joy is dangerous.
It fills me with secrets.
"Yes" hisses in my veins.
The pains I take to hide myself
Are sheer as glass.
Surely this will pass,
The wind like kisses,
The music in the soup,
The group of trees,
Laughing as I say their names.
It is all hosannah.
It is all prayer.
Jerusalem is walking in the world.
Jerusalem is walking in the world.
Poem from Walking in the World by Julia Cameron
As sentimental as it sounds, I think it was more from having been being away from home so much that this Summer seems to be going by quickly, and many of the recreational or revitalizing things I've enjoyed in the past summers occur only occasionally. It's not a complaint, though; in fact, it's in my mind that I appreciate all of it all the more because my life is varied now.
While walking last evening my husband told me about the movie of "Beowulf," from beginning to end. For two hours while walking, even in the dark on the way home, he explained the entire play of the film. I'd interject something here and there with an idea about the symbols of the mythology, but mainly, I listened with true delight. I didn't watch it with him the weekend he rented it (or borrowed it, I'm not sure), whenever he did, and I'm so glad I didn't. Because it was a wonderful re-telling last night. I was a captive audience of one.
This is a great happiness.
The air is silk.
There is milk in the looks
That come from Strangers.
I could not be happier
If I were bread and you could eat me.
Joy is dangerous.
It fills me with secrets.
"Yes" hisses in my veins.
The pains I take to hide myself
Are sheer as glass.
Surely this will pass,
The wind like kisses,
The music in the soup,
The group of trees,
Laughing as I say their names.
It is all hosannah.
It is all prayer.
Jerusalem is walking in the world.
Jerusalem is walking in the world.
Poem from Walking in the World by Julia Cameron
posted by SPOA | 8:11 PM
4 Comments:
When my husband and I walk in the early morning, he is usually the listener. He does it very well, allowing me to tell stories, plan, recall the past, or just vent about the previous day's frustrations. Listening is a gift to the talker and sometimes the listener too.
You know what I love about your writing? The words paint a picture for me in the most effortless way. And almost always, I can relate to what you are saying. That's a rare thing for me so coming to your cyberspace is such a pleasure.
Even though I hate schedules and structure, I love my rituals and routines, and over the years have watched them change and adapt to the different phases of my life. At first I hung on to them like crazy and then realized that letting go allowed even more enjoyable ways of being to find a place in my comfort zone.
The earlier story about the bunny in the park...I'm drawn to them, too, and feel honored when we can occupy the same space for more than a few seconds. Everyone loves them but they always call the shots. Now you see me...now you don't. Something about that I like ;-) JE
P.S. Cameron's poetry is beautiful. Poets are the unsung heroes of our time. They silently feed our souls and ask nothing in return.
Lea's photo so perfectly fits this blog....
JE ~ I so agree about adapting to the different phases, that really resonates with me. I like having a certain routine to things but meanwhile I know it's going to change someday, or tomorrow, even; it makes it more vital to me to be with it as it is. I think you are right it's the bunny method: now I'm here, now I'm gone. :)
Hi Bella! Us, too. I prattle on and he listens without judgment, and often with great counsel, bringing me back to the core issue which is usually my issue not the person or the thing that is troubling me. (And he really is listening, too ~ Not like on commercials pretending but distracted by beer, sports or body parts... don't you hate television commercials that make men appear so stupid??)
It was gratifying being the listener, like you said, this time. He loves to tell stories.
Post a Comment
<< Home