Themes
Here I am at one o’clock on a Wednesday morning finally sitting down and confronting the blank
page with the hope of filling three pages with words that are….? Meaningful, well-written, or can I
ramble on through various thoughts, seeking some coherence even while wandering off.
“When you are very honest with yourself
And brave enough
You can express yourself fully
Whatever people may think,
It is all right.
Just be yourself
That is actual practice
Your actual life.”
That comes from last year’s calendar that had some profound Buddha type thoughts, one for
each month but that was the only one that I saved because being honest with yourself is difficult but
worth the effort, a goal to be remembered.
Then there was the class I was in where we read James Joyce’s “The Dead” and the instructor
began enlightening us with all the levels that were in that first simple sentence. I had read the story and
there was much in it that moved me and I could identify with but after hearing about what Joyce was
doing with words and references, I felt that I was just a wader on the fringes of a deep pool where there
was no chance of my ever reaching the bottom.
There are many limits in my abilities at all levels and I struggle with writing but I sign up for
classes and then I agonize while I take them and when I’m finished I promise myself “Never again” but I
keep going back to scratch an itch that won’t go away. On the other hand, it could be that I’m a voyeur
and I’m fascinated by other people’s stories.
I write daily pages and I have boxes of loose leaf notebooks which I wrote but never read but the
writing is where the past, present and future are intertwined as I recorded my daily doings. There are
layers of living there but I wonder how much honesty? Do we keep secrets from ourselves?
I write because I’m trying to figure how to function in a complex world that is full of ambiguities
and where everyone wants it simple…wants clarity. I accept that ying and yang is operating in the world
but underlying it all is not a search for meaning because saying “Eureka! I’ve discovered the meaning of
life” sounds presumptuous to me. There is something to be said for what is, is.
Is this where evaluation comes in? A constant theme of is that good or bad, right or wrong, how
can we solve it, change it, mold it, make it work, is it a success or failure, better or worse is always
whirling around and measurements are made. Or can it be… tell what happened and just the facts
please but facts are never completely facts.
Walt Whitman’s poem “There was a child” adds to my theme of what is like to live in the world
at another level.
“There was a child went forth every day
And the first object he look’d upon that object he became
And that object became part of him for the day, or a certain part of the day,
Or for many a year, or stretching cycle of years”
There are so many pictures in my mind; scenes that I can play, feelings recalled all bubbling
underneath the daily routines, the mail that brings a problem, the car that need fixing. They interfere
but the themes of memory, life experience, and making sense are always there.
Politics, governance, I’m not sure how to define it but whatever it is I spend a lot of time
gnawing away at it, reading about it, thinking about it, despairing about it, enraged by it but it gets back
to how do humans relate to one another, how do societies organize themselves effectively and what is
wrong with economists….why can’t they come up with a better system? I go to a monthly discussion
group where fortunately, even though we come from different points of view, we don’t demonize one
another.
People…I have to have my daily dose of people whether real, in a book, Netflix streaming, emailing someone or maybe just thinking about someone. Caring about people takes time and energy and
I don’t do enough of it but it’s incredibly fascinating to hear their stories, ideas and experiences.
Family, of course, is a whole other category. Three daughters born eighteen months apart, one
adopted granddaughter, four granddaughters, one grandson, and four great-grandchildren, not a huge
family and they don’t all live in this area but two do which I’m happy about but we don’t see one
another all that often. And they all have their stories.
I’ve been a widow for sixteen years which seems totally unbelievable and I hate the word
“widow”. I’m not sure what I’d prefer….I’ve been alone, I’ve been without my husband or just my
husband died sixteen years ago or Dick has been gone for sixteen years and he has missed and been
missed so much.
I can be busy, busy and engaged with one thing and another but it still comes back to even with
all the difficulties we had when love would seem far away, we were connected. There is something to be
said to have someone to love and who loves you in your life. We both came from long lived families and
were positive that we had it made…they all made it pass their 50th wedding anniversaries…no reason
why we couldn’t do the same but cancer has a way of surprising you.
Early on I decided I didn’t want to marry a nine to five man and I was fortunate to find someone
who made life interesting. We met in April and were married in August and the adventure began. We
ended up living in Japan, Germany, Vienna, Cyprus and Jordan which I now think of as my other life.
We definitely had our failures with parenting but I remembered realizing when I was about
nineteen that my parents weren’t the perfect parents, that they were flawed individuals but I knew I was
loved….intent was there as it was with us. There is a time to let go and move on which I think I was
able to do but it doesn’t come easily to everyone. No matter, however, we are all damaged in some way
or other, or it seems so with people that I meet.
I’m not quite ready for a summing up of where I’ve been and where I am and where I want to go
though there are various checklists made on a daily basis. However, I’m not driven to make a bucket list
nor have a compulsion to take up sky diving. Becoming a better listener, learning to practice mindful
awareness and stop eating so much are contemplated but not achieved.
I still feel like that child going out into the world, seeing things, learning things, feeling things and
as in “Oliver” I want more. There is so much out there, there are so many good times to be had, and I
know there can be so much pain, and hurt, too….that is always with us.
Grateful is a feeling that visits me on a daily basis. Is it luck or genes, or whatever it is, I feel very
fortunate. The other day I was pulling out from the curb when someone sped around the corner….we
both reacted promptly and the disaster that could have occurred didn’t occur. Luck or genes or a little of
each?
Guilt comes sometimes with good fortune….that feeling of that there are so many people who
have so little and I have so much. Some convoluted thought process leads to the conclusion, if you have
it than enjoy it because what a waste it would be to have it and not enjoy it.
Anticipation and expectation can be the bane of existence. I’m not sure what I mean by that but
perhaps realizing it is what leads to acceptance of where I am. It is what it is and that is my reality.