Skip to main content

The Bloom is Off

The magnificent lily that glowed  and grinned like a tiger has dropped her blooms and hidden herself for the year. I have the plant, still healthy, and the memory of her beauty and presence --- and a bit of sadness. It is a similar sadness to the way I miss certain friendships that have faded. One I am thinking of particularly now has lingered on my mind of late. I long to be in touch, but when one loves, one waits and carries on. The other may have found new attachments, or distractions, or his or her own overwhelming circumstances, and the bloom is off the rose (or lily), so to speak. We feel forgotten. There's some chance we are, isn't that humbling?

There's a better chance we are remembered like the tiger lily who once shone so brightly in the life of our absent friend. We are like a softer painting of that lily now in memory., perhaps...

(painting by Judith Travis)

It's also possible that we flatter ourselves, and the ego says, "I want to be remembered." My friend Alan Mitnick wrote the following poem about the wish to be remembered:


I don't want as much to be remembered, as just forgotten slowly, one day the mailman bringing a different name on cards & bills to this door

Tonight I'm listening to a singer live in Ireland, giving a show through DeBarra's Folk Club, a good fellow on banjo, and it has lifted my spirits so much. He sings sad songs and joyful ones, and songs of memory, and they all soothe me. You can listen sometime via the Facebook page they host.

Something I have been learning from my Buddhist studies is that the ego has such a powerful hold. If we can replace our need to be loved and adored and applauded with compassion for others and a spirit of openness with no clutching, we can be happier and probably do much more good with our lives.

The current song by the Irish performer is "Time for Us to Leave Her," which is actually about leaving a ship, I think... or a job, or a place --- not about leaving a person, but isn't it right for me, and for this post?

I'll take my leave of ya, and you needn't remember me at all. :>) But do come around if you think of it...

Tamara

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Snow Crocus

Friends, I haven't been going out to the greenhouse much for the past few months. It's been rainy and cold, and while last year I had a working heater in there, it's a no go this year -- electrical issues. Almost everything in there was dead or dying, just like the rest of the plants in the yard, and boo hoo, it just wasn't the same. But this morning I went out there, and what did I find? Pot after pot with bulbs popping up (yes!), and yep, still a huge mess to clean up. I needed a pair of scissors to start chopping away and clearing out the dead plants, and I started heading out the door when I spotted something orange blooming. I stepped closer, looked down, and the orange snow crocus introduced itself. Crouching down, I felt the most wonderful promise of spring coming, and blessed those delicate blooms from my deepest heart.  I've never had a snow crocus before, but I've got more that should bloom soon in the kitchen, along with my beautiful red and pink tuli...
Post a Comment
Read more

Rise of the Elephant Ears

 Friends, you wouldn't believe how tall the elephant ears are. They've risen to the height of the gazebo and are not showing any signs of slowing down. The three amigos in their bed have had several seed pods, to our delight, and now we've got baby elephant ears going nicely in the greenhouse. I admired them on my walk around the yard this morning in my ruby red belted robe, harvesting beans and green tomatoes, a cucumber, and stashing them in my pocket. Now I'm on the swing listening to "The Sound of Sunshine" as performed by the band at Jubilee Circle. Elephant ears love the sunshine --- we just have to keep the water coming to the roots, stand by and let them spread outward and upward. This photo is from earlier in the summer, and you can see the seed pods. Having never had any before, I didn't know how the process worked --- the pod becomes a pale yellow bloom, and only when the bloom dies do the berry-like seeds emerge, looking like corn on the cob, o...
Post a Comment
Read more

Cicada Song

(borrowed from  Obviously Chloe They're back, and they are mighty --- out in full force, showing off. Cousin to the leafhopper and froghopper, I hear. And while I listen, I am also tuning in to Jubilee Circle , the community church I attend (virtually, at the moment). The service began with a gentle piece on violin. Via Positiva Theme: remaining open. Hearts wide open. One blink away from being fully awake (thank you, Pema Chodron). We need something to wake us up. Drumbeat, sage, find the four directions, and listen to the voices of the cicada. Most of the time it lives underground, growing for years into an adult. Cicadas drink the sap from trees, and in large swarms cause destruction. This year is the once in 17-year mating cycle, according to  Jason Slotkin of NPR.  Cicadas mean summer. They are invested in mating. What is it, friends, that we are investing ourselves in? Does the soul stand a chance in this withering political climate? Have you heard of the ...
2 comments
Read more