We love children and polar bears being rescued, but something has gone wrong. We are not fully alive if we do not recognize those who died. We bind up and choke our souls when we do not mourn unnecessary death with outrage.
Pondering:
My dog ponders why he gets dried treats while humans get chocolate truffles, not to mention lobster chowder and mushroom pastries. Still he loves us, especially the grandchildren, and is mature enough not to make sneak attacks for nibbles off the counter.
My 7-year-old granddaughter ponders if she has remembered everyone she wants to give gifts, not allowing herself any excuses for her age. Her body twitches in anticipation of giving her gifts, each with a note saying she loves you.
My 9-year-old grandson ponders the structure of the US Congress and the electoral college and asks if there is an exact correlation between the number of representatives a state has and the number of its electoral representatives, or if it is only approximate. He loves his nation and feels we and it are in danger.
I ponder why I have more anxiety cooking for guests than I had facing angry men with guns in foreign nations.
I ponder free will, the nature of the conscience, the nature of consciousness, if forgiveness has any real meaning, if there is a separate entity we conveniently call “soul” or if that is a blend of our psychology, memory, ethics, longings – like custom paint mixtures with a drop of cerulean blue, some spring green, a tad of gingko leaf green, and a dollop of blood red until you get what feels like the essence of what you are looking for.
I ponder why I love more as I age, how to prevent wrinkles, how much exercise is really necessary, the nutrient value of mushroom powders, what happens to your cells when you have no sexual partner, the size of the universe, and will I have a self-awareness that can self-identify as “me” after I die?
My therapist ponders if she should be pragmatic with me or abstract, usually choosing pragmatic since I handle abstractions better than daily life – usually, not always.
Like my grandson, and every adult I know, I ponder if the T-word (I cannot say his name, which is pragmatic for the state of my psyche) is ushering in – with his band of humorless martinets – the end of the world, the end of the world as we know it, or not so many changes after all.
I do not need to ponder if he is sane.
Love, beauty, and soul:
What I ponder most is love. I read that writers are told not to use the words “soul” or “beauty.” But I know beauty when I see it and I know soul when I feel it. If not using those words has any value other than to get us to further differentiate into details and nuances, I don’t know what it is. We should speak of beauty and soul all the time, delve into their mysteries and their healing powers.
Beauty and soul, like love, cover a lot of territory and are true, and are not afraid to get dirty.
The White Helmets rescuing Syrians from under tens of tons of concrete rubble are beautiful and dirty and work out of love.
Polar bears on melting snow and ice are beautiful and heartbreaking and trying to save their cubs.
Parents carrying children a day’s journey to hospitals across barren earth are weary with grieving for their beloved and desperately ill babies.
Love and beauty and soul mingle with the blood, shit, and gurgling of those who die by guns, drones, bombs, and diseases. They loved and they were loved.
Hearts and minds off course:
We love children and polar bears being rescued, but something has gone wrong. We are not fully alive if we do not recognize those who died. We bind up and choke our souls when we do not mourn unnecessary death with outrage.
Lincoln Financial is one sponsor of The PBS News Hour. Their ad begins with “feel good” photos and a reassuring male voice telling us “You can care for many, but you can only love a precious few.” It then shows photos of loving moments limited to two or three family members.
When a widely broadcast ad tells us we can only love a precious few, when a script like that gets through the advertising department and the corporate higher ups, we have crossed into dangerous territory, a land where the T-word and his racism, bigotry, hatred, threats, and walls are elected – if not by the majority, still legally – to lead our country. Children like my grandson know and feel the poison for what it is, poison.
Feeling the love:
As I age, I witness my love expanding, seemingly on its own. Do I love the T-word’s cabinet appointees? No, but I don’t exactly hate them either. “Abhor” is a more accurate word.
I’ve become one of those women who has become gaga with love. This is not an abstraction, it is my reality. I touch it and feel it, even if I cannot explain it.
Do not tell me I can love only a precious few! That is bunk, a lie. It is wrong, it is the opposite of what I do and most people do. We love widely and deeply, and would love even more if we understood it as the natural and healthy way of living – if we had more courage, more encouragement, more faith in ourselves.
Love, beauty, and living aligned with your soul is as pragmatic as it can get. It is the only way we will survive.
Oh, Sweet P! This is the best Christmas gift I’ve received by far – though we’ll keep that a secret from certain parties who spent too much (and, mercifully, almost never go online). I love your beauty, your soul, your artistry that keeps growing stronger, your generous love, and your abhorrence of what must be abhorred. Thank you for developing the depth and taking the time to craft this and share it. Shine on & on!
Mary, I am infused with your words. One should never, however, be confused by your sweetness. I know the determination and strength of heart and soul, your mettle and your light. You humble me. love, p
And you humble me, dear heart.
This is absolutely, ravishingly, beautiful. So very much in here….so very much. But I will quote you to you…
“I ponder free will, the nature of the conscience, the nature of consciousness, if forgiveness has any real meaning, if there is a separate entity we conveniently call “soul” or if that is a blend of our psychology, memory, ethics, longings – like custom paint mixtures with a drop of cerulean blue, some spring green, a tad of gingko leaf green, and a dollop of blood red until you get what feels like the essence of what you are looking for.”
“As I age, I witness my love expanding, seemingly on its own. Do I love the T-word’s cabinet appointees? No, but I don’t exactly hate them either.”
” Do not tell me I can love only a precious few! That is bunk, a lie. It is wrong, it is the opposite of what I do and most people do. We love widely and deeply, and would love even more if we understood it as the natural and healthy way of living – if we had more courage, more encouragement, more faith in ourselves.”
You are magic, your words are magic. You have a gift and when you use it…you become a gift in all our lives. Thank you for this. Thank you for you! Xxx
“If you want light to come into your life,
you need to stand where
it is shining.”
Well, if you’re traveling light, then love, beauty and soul
shall shine throughout your life, help make
you whole… Don’t you know
we love you so…
John, if I ever end up in a muddy puddle gaga at the end of my life, I will know that you loved me, both as a real person and as an ideal you have had since we were in our teens. That is a precious gift.
You are wonderful, Patricia. Thank you for all that you do so beautifully. Your Antidotes, your amusing short notices like about running away with Denzel (I think many of us would run away with you if we had the chance), and serious outpourings that contribute to making this a better world.
I feel more hopeful that things will not be so bad as they sometimes look to be. They will not become worse than what they are now, which is more or less how they have been throughout history. Technology changes. Human nature stays the same. The good and the evil. The same in new guises.
Together we can do it. Yes we can, as Obama said eight years ago. I think we can make things better. Many voices reaching people everywhere. Emails and facebook postings. Parents and teachers. Writers and painters, dancers and musicians. Farmers and carpenters. Mexicans and Muslims, wall builders and demolishers, Republicans and Democrats, and the rest of us of all shapes and colors.
But it won’t be easy.
Alan, we are forced, aren’t we, to take our own measure when such brutality and harm occur around us, when we are face to face with evil? I feel a sleeping giant of compassion and action is rising, and hope desperately it is not my delusion.
Your words say it all, so beautifully. Thank you, thank you.
I just LOVE receiving your posts, Patricia. I can feel your words and so appreciate you sharing yourself with us. Would you allow me to repost this on my Facebook?
Kelly, I would be honored for you to repost anything I write. Please do, and thank you for your supportive words.
Welcome to the land of gaga Love! Contrary to what many may think, it is not a “lala” land. Love is often fierce. But it is definitely what we need, with no limit…
Blessings!