This image speaks of beauty and vulnerability. Something I’ve been thinking about these past days, not so much in terms of appearance though. More to do with those who are alone in their home, sick or diminished in some way. Many of whom do not have anybody to reach out to. (Your might say they are deserted’) Or have anybody, a friend or family member, to check in on them to ask simply, Are you alright? Can I get you anything? People die in their homes and not found until days, weeks or even months. I heard recently. Imagine? It is too easy to recoil in horror and shame, to turn away. Perhaps inwardly complain about a society that lets this sort of thing happen. or point at families who let this sort of thing happen.
However from a deeper perspective, and from a less emotive one, could it not be that our living and our dying, our flowering, fading, shrinking, falling over, decaying flow together with impeccable timing. Even the circumstances we travel in and lay our heads down in. And births too. impeccable timing. But on the surface of things, quite often, it doesn’t look that way. We see the suffering and we know the pain and share in it. As is right and good. We are familial creatures designed to take care of our own. And still it is good to know the deeper rest.
Being born a human being, in the great scheme of things, is a flowering most rare. And most precious. We have the opportunity, as conscious beings, to rise up out of our prickly abode – and that’s as far as I am going this night. Enough to say that I do all I can to reach out to those I know who are alone in a prickle patch. Yes, keep an ear out for those vulnerable, who know you. The winter months are hard.
Thanks to those who have sent texts, emails and made phone calls to make sure I am still alive. I am. However the cold I brought back from Latvia was a doozie!
(thanks to Mark for sending in the photograph – this cactus blooms ‘once in a blue moon’! Rarely in other words. And a long time family member!)
Hi,
Prickle Patch, what a lovely metaphor. Rest up well and you will be back on your travels through the brier patch of life sooner rather than later. I always appreciate your thoughtful posts, especially now that I’m in my 73rd year. The winter months are harder where you are than were I am, on the Pacific coast in Canada, but still the lack of light is rather tiresome. Rest. Love, Gerry.
Well Gerry, what can I say. Your comments and general encouragement for me to write continues to inspire me to do just that. I guess you must have moved ‘up island’ by now. Or not.
Hi,
Am in the process of moving on…metaphorically and practically. Last accepted offer on my Victoria condo fell through at the last minute, which has given me pause, as they say, to either cut bait or stay the course. A prickly patch indeed. I enjoy your musings as you travel and love the music in your writing. All poetry is not in verse form but in the ebb and flow of everyday language. Keep flowing and soon I may be going up island, and when I get there, come by for tea.
I most certainly WILL come for tea, up island or not. This summer if at all possible. Not heard of ‘cut bait’ but I get your drift….as we say in this in this island. And maybe yours.
Hi,
The term is “fish or cut bait,” meaning, if you’re into something, get right at it or quit…quitting is “cut bait.”
Talk sooner than later.
Cheers, Gerry