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

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 cicada kil
2 comments
Read more

Reaping What I Sow

That's the essence of karma, isn't it, and really the core of the golden rule as well: Do unto others as you would have them do unto you... because that's probably how it's going to work out. The hurt we caused years ago may come back to humble us in the form of a humiliating sting or a gaping heart wound today. We often reap what we sow, and it's great in the garden. It can be great in everyday life, in our spiritual work, too, if we are sowing good seeds full of grace and compassion. (painting by  Carol Wisniewski ) I don't know if you've ever caused any pain to other people, but I have --- and I've written about it before, and worked to forgive myself, and all those kinds of spirtual practices, but I still regret it. I've never understood when people say they don't have any regrets. I remember hearing a friend say that once in front of his wife, whom he had hurt terribly at one time -- to the point that they divorced, but later remarrie
3 comments
Read more

When the Roof Caves In...

Two nights ago, while I was sleeping, a heavy rainfall crushed the greenhouse roof, which was not much after all but PVC pipes and plastic. We had a couple of pipes we put in for reinforcement (propped up) when it rained, but we didn't know it was raining, and isn't that just how it goes? The rain comes, the roof falls, while you're sleeping. No fear, congregation. As I was taught, the church isn't the building. It's the creatures who inhabit it, in a spirit of community and grace and all good things. Only a few of the plants were bruised and disorganized, but well glory... everything is alright. Look here, new green shoots, new underfeathering, leaves widening and spreading. We are alive. One of my favorite poems is really a hymn because what is a hymn but an act of praise, a song, a poem? Here's the whole thing (go on... you'll be glad you did):  "Sestina" But oh... this line: Time to plant tears , says the almanac. Yes, time to plant
2 comments
Read more