WS, Your description is heartbreaking. So much fear, sadness and confusion. You are amazing.
WS, Your description is heartbreaking. So much fear, sadness and confusion. You are amazing.
Like many situations in life, “People who talk, don’t know. People who know, don’t talk.” Sometimes it takes 50 years before you understand that it’s okay not to understand.Originally Posted by nswef
Well said, Williamsmith.
Having done the negative immigrant experience and others which were painful, I have found them so helpful and important to my growth as a human being. i judge less, forgive more and am so grateful for all the good that is going on in so many ways by so many people. Little things and kindnesses matter.
As Cicero said, “Gratitude is not only the greatest of virtues, but the parent of all the others.”
Its hard not to think in terms of finite sets, you are either in the circle or out of it. It’s easier that way. You don’t have to forgive people outside the circle, you don’t have to try to make accommodations for them, you can even hate them if you please for no other reason except they are outside your circle.
One commonality great spiritual leaders have (not religious personalities) ....is they think in terms of movement towards or away from the center not being inside or outside. Thus, Jesus could rightly scold the disciples for judging prostitutes, thieves and tax collectors. While some people look like they obviously are in the circle (a priest ) to use a modern day example and some people look like they are distinctly outside the circle (a heroin addicted homeless person). The truth may be the addict may be moving towards discipleship while the priest is moving away.
Where I really struggle is when another is in emotional or spiritual pain. Physical pain gives you some direction because one is trained to respond with certain steps or the triage process. Emotional pain or spiritual pain is much harder to respond to appropriately.
I found a friend, whose DH had passed suddenly, in front of a store shortly afterwards looking absolutely blank and bewildered. My heart ached for her so I simply reached out and gently hugged her. She gripped me so tightly, found her mental way back and then let go. I still get hugs from her and that moment is never discussed. The heart has to lead the way.
The key, I think, is that another feels heard when in anguish. Still working on this...
As Cicero said, “Gratitude is not only the greatest of virtues, but the parent of all the others.”
This time of year my sunroom is the perfect place to hang out in the morning. This is where I have a television mounted on the wall, a stereo and turntable, a small work table for cleaning records and packaging for shipping, my guitars and a small amplifier. The large windows facing north and west look out over a valley of maples, oaks, birch, pine and aspen. The colors and the falling leaves gently remind me of what is to come.....the endless cycle of nature.
I like to think random thoughts while I look out the windows. I am appreciative that for the most part, I have arrived at the point in time on my circle of life where I make most of the decisions for myself. But because of my humanness, I can reminisce about the past (when much of my life was spent serving other people) and presume what the future might hold.
I do not presume that my life is linear and constantly will be improving. Just being observant one can acknowledge that the circle of life includes a time when winter will come and spring will not. I am banking on the fact that this prepares us for the inevitable time when we eventually make our way completely around the circle and cross into the beginning of a much larger one with an infinite circumference.
Another former coworker just passed away. I suppose that’s why I am thinking in terms of circles instead of infinite lines today. At 73, By today’s standards that seems too early to me. But then given his stresses and experiences I guess he wasn’t complaining. As much as we get bombarded with fountain of youth advertising, its a wonder anyone can come to terms with their circle closing.
I know the leaves will soon be gone from the valley and the grey branches will stand against the wind and snow until earths axial tilt changes again and daylight increases. When that time comes, more than likely I’ll be looking for the signs of spring right here from my sunroom perch overlooking a simply valley. I’m good with that.
My local community is there waiting to engage me. As a child’s whole universe is his house, so is my small town to me...if I want it to be. Only if I want. Strength and diversity can be found there. The local bookstore waits to reveal treasures shelved, perhaps dusty or untouched for years. They are waiting to be moved again, carried and to have light hit their pages as they are turned.
A local community brings heaps of unwanted things to the thrift stores where workers, sometimes work releasers sift through separating junk from jewels. A caravan of people stride in and out of the doors buying at one tenth the price and putting pieces back in use, perhaps another book or a record or a toaster or winter jacket. The second hand stores feed the poor and are the heartbeat of my community.
The fruit stand and deli doles out locally grown and organic food away from the steady drone of industrialized agribusiness. Few glued together boxes can be found here. These have not been trucked half way around the country ...these are picked and placed and selected and prepared and eaten ...nearby.
The barber sits expectantly for another customer who will sit and talk about the county tax increase to pay for the extravagant justice building next to the old courthouse. A few locks of hair will hit the floor, more order to the head results from the local conversation almost as a byproduct. A quarter might be turned into a wretched meter.
My cheesecake sits gently but heavy in a white paper sack. The small bakery smells engulf my head with childhood memories behind glass waterfall cases. I point to a breakfast roll, tasting the pecans and maple in my mind. I will taste them for real tomorrow morning. Today, the shop owner places them in a white cardboard box as gently as passing a baby. I take one last breath before going back to the sidewalk and the smells of my hometown.
A special needs person ducks into a sandwich shop where he will cheerfully and sincerely greet new customers as they enter. He goes about cleaning up the dining area, mopping and making small talk. He might offer a thin newspaper while someone waits. Front page headlines discuss how to navigate the newly constructed bridge whose sidewalk was designed without any protection from snowplows or passing cars. The only people who need to use it are struggling restaurant workers, homeless and the disabled.
Under the misty grey fog of early winter, a community breathes, takes a heavy step toward progress and is carried three steps back by the current of centralization. There is a pulse. It still has a desire to live.
Last edited by Williamsmith; 12-3-18 at 2:29am.
Beautiful, WS!!!! You are introducing me to Leonard Cohen and the beauty of his music. Thank you.
As Cicero said, “Gratitude is not only the greatest of virtues, but the parent of all the others.”
I read that if you make it through the 10 most dangerous years (55-65) without cancer, stroke or heat attack that most likely you will make it to your 80’s. It’s hard to lose friends.
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