The Persistence of the Present

I woke up today with a few messages on my phone. One from one of my oldest and dearest friends, stating he was going to MOMA to see his favourite painting.

I reflected, as I am wont to whilst languidly taking in the sunshine-spackled view of my French garden through my bay windows; I remember that Dali was one of my all-time favourite artists, how Persistence of Memory was my the one painting that called out to me, watching the slideshow my art teacher was presenting when I was 11.

And yet, now I realize the difference in me. Whereas the old me, the one who is mostly all over this blog and my poetry blog, was so very much deeply entrenched in memory—the idea of living, reliving, not forgetting, cherishing, not relinquishing—the me today is so much more content to simply be here now.

In fact, I am so actively propelled into the moment I am living by my sheer joy in rediscovering what it means to do so. No more wallowing in old memories, no more wishing for times long gone. There is a very high-energy happiness that goes into rediscovering this very moment for exactly what it is. It is the spirit of simply being.

Be happy for this moment; this moment is your life.

Vavavoom

This morning I stood at my garden door, in the sunlit quiet, just enjoying the peace and serenity that comes with that feeling of being alone in a world that's still slumbering. As I stood there watching, I realized in front of me, almost camouflaged, was a huge monarch butterfly. It's wings were like a fine etched stain-glassed window, all gemstone oranges and gold and black.

As it quietly fed off my geraniums, I held my breath. I realized there was a part of me that itched to grab my camera and capture that moment for perpetuity. But for some reason I resisted, and let myself let go of that feeling of wanting to keep something for the future, and instead simply watched the butterfly as it nuzzled the flowers with its wings opening and closing in rapture.

I felt my breathe slow down, as I let myself simply enjoy the moment. Let the contentment and thrill of miracles wash through me. Sometimes it's okay to know that what you have now will soon flit away, maybe just be a nugget of doubt of "did I really experience that?" in memory..

But then again, perhaps simply letting yourself open yourself to the moment in the here, now and today, without worrying about what will come next, is what life is about.

What is This Season

Sometimes, on days like this, when the coolness holds hands with warmth, all I want to do is lay back on the earth, and smile at the sky. 

Sometimes, I can almost pretend that every cloud out there holds the answers, holds the secrets to unleashing my dreams.

Sometimes, as I loll in the grass, with the smell of the undomesticated ground surrounding me like a new perfume, I feel as if I could almost become one with the raw warm fertile soil.

Sometimes, I stretch my hand up to the sky, and it almost seems as if I can catch hold of the great blue above me.

Sometimes, I wonder how much of this Mother Earth is made of the dust of all her children, and how it might be to be that way too, fragmented ash flying around the world free.

Sometimes, I feel as if I could take these unfulfilled parts of me, my dreams and desires, and throw them back up at the sky to rejoin that great emptiness, like caged white doves set free.

Sometimes, on days like this, the earth warm on my back, the sun warm on my face, I smile and feel maybe yes, it is fine to be alone; yet the wind smoothly blows over my cheek like a warm, sweet-smelling caress.

artwork: pascal campion

Thought of the Day

Little things can become the biggest things—can become your whole world—when you have almost nothing.

"How to Choose a Husband"

"How to Choose a Husband; or, All is Not Gold that Glitters. An Eastern Tale" (23 February 1850)

Zeila and Amedan are blessed by a good marriage because Amedan doesn't surround Zeila with guards "as was the custom of his country". But Zeila is bored with her man and confides in an old woman from a nearby village that her husband "'has no brilliancy; there is such a sameness in his character that it makes me die of ennui', he never rises above the generality of men, nor do I ever hear him praised for his talents or his wit... I perceive with grief that my husband will never make a figure in the world'". The old woman uses a magic mirror to display various men who might excite Zeila. Predictably, Zeila decides after all that Amadan has "the only qualities that can ensure the happiness of a wife - kindness, delicacy of mind, implicit confidence ... and good common sense - a treasure far more precious, and which is daily becoming more rare, than great or splendid talents" . Thus the tale praises righteousness, simplicity, and humility in a husband, qualities inherent in the average "unexceptional" partner. 

Contentment

Sitting here alone with the blue sky and white clouds, autumnal winds blowing, and the sun shining on my head, whilst really great music is playing and keeping me and the elements company. Despite the context of the song playing and the very state of being up here watching the tips of the evergreens alone, I'm smiling.