Time Capsule Thursdays, in which I pause and notice. And write down what might otherwise go forgotten. And am inspired by Mary Oliver’s poem “Gratitude” (in What Do We Know). And honor age-old wisdom (bloggingly exemplified over at The Fluent Self): “Because traditions are important.”
Italicized* questions are from Mary Oliver’s poem
What did you notice?*
No matter how much the colors and the shapes look like a match,
if the pieces don’t fit they don’t fit.
What did you hear?*
Church bells as chronometer for tears.
What was most tender?*
The human heart.
The inside of a man’s hand (the hand he can’t open on his own after a stroke).
What astonished you?*
The softness of eyes.
What would you like to see again?*
The bright red cardinal and his gray, pale-red mate along the river.
What took you back?
The Riverbend Office building in Watertown Square.
Where did it take you?
9 holiday parties in my 20’s.
What made you cry?
Noticing I’d stopped trying to make the pieces fit.
Noticing that the piece of me, and the piece of he,
are in the same puzzle, just not side-by-side.
What did you think was happening?*
I stopped arguing.
That’s this week’s slice of life, my friends. Feel free to join in with noticings—big or small, happy or sad, old or new—of your own. (One request: kindly withhold from offering advice. Thank you.)
I LOVE this. And I want to play with this. Tomorrow. When I can keep my eyes open.
If I may:
I noticed (yet again) that my youngest son’s eyes are the most beautiful I’ve ever seen. And that life is so much easier when you can identify the expectations that are wise to let go of.
What I would want to see again: As always, the eyes of someone who once loved me.
What made me cry: writing that last sentence.
Oh dear Gina (@gloreebe88), of course you may! Oh my gosh I love it if you do. Your world is my world. You help me see new things. Everyone does. xo
It’s what we do for each other as humans…
oh dear,
we meet again.
i followed your tears from my own,
and found this deep breath again,
and a shared unpuzzling.
the pieces don’t fit…
oh my and how gina’s words sink deep in my heart,
i am in this process, of understanding, of seeing and honoring the pieces, and letting things change.
blessed be this