The Bones Sing
The Bones Sing
Originally uploaded by Contrary Goddess.
"They aren’t the ones I would have chosen, but they are the friends I’ve got left.” That was what my septuagenarian neighbor said to me as I paused while vacuuming his living room a couple of weeks ago. The phrase has been ringing in my head ever since. I wonder, Who would I choose? Who do I have left? Who will I have left? What does it mean?
As I've said, I've been in a bit of an existentialist place lately.
And, for instance, what are the important things? Family? A sane economic basis? Brightness? Cheerfulness? Honesty? Fortitude? Loyalty? Perseverance? Creativity? I could vote for all of them and more. Oh, and lightness. Much more lightness. Of being. Light as a feather light.
Ah, March. To give you an idea of the kind of day today was:
March Swimming
Originally uploaded by Contrary Goddess. There are always days like this in March. Hooray.
5 comments:
Since I'm not that far from you, over in Harriman, I too enjoyed an 80 degree day with lots of sunshine, family, and a little basketball.
Are the kids in the water? eeewwww not warm enough for that for me!! Great picture!
oh yeah, ALL the way under even. I washed the dog and my feet froze (that creek flows from way up high and doesn't pass by any person before it gets to us). Funniest thing was that she smelled worse after her bath.
That's what's so great about these early super-warm spring days: you get to do stuff you take for granted (i.e., ignore) when the weather is up and staying warm.
I understand well your existential rut. It's actually really good for you to stop and ponder. Does this happen to you though: when I get in one of those pondering ruts, I wonder what it is I am at the edge of: is someone dying soon, is something radically changing and I am simply somehow very conscious of the "before"? They say some people are sensitive this way.
Something to consider over coffee in the early a.m., though, certainly.
oh yeah, I wonder things like that too. This morning it is like this -- as though I've left something on the edge of the counter so I won't forget it when I go out, and I've gone out and forgotten it. I awake and have been dreaming but can't remember them at all, not even what they made me feel like. Etc. It is not a comfortable place, to be sure.
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