Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Saturday, August 6, 2011
Not Annie Dillard
In many Eastern traditions, the world of nature is considered to be maya, or illusion, while in other Eastern and Global South traditions, nature is mother. Western tradition has often teetered between the assertion that nature is God’s good creation and that it has been “frustrated” by human sin. In more recent times, the world around us has been regarded as the expression of random selection and chance. Explore some aspect of nature (as in the non-human world) and write a short piece (fiction, poem, mini-essay) in which your descriptions reflect and reveal your philosophical understanding of nature..."without actually stating directly what your philosophical position is."
Yeah....... I must have written about this topic a million times, although not in this manner... well, perhaps yes.
I wait for that moment when my toes will meet
the waters edge, waiting just for me,
it is there that I know who I am
I look up and speak words out into the air
sometimes silently, some times aloud
I can feel my body shift as it becomes
a part of the water, before I enter I am there
Walking along, I glimpse signs of life and death,
shells that once held something living, now vomited up
as a gift to that one and one alone who will find it lovely
and gather it to keep
Visible signs of life, baby sea turtles, urchins and crabs
all there before me and as I look I see myself in them
I am part of this too, it is in me and of me
there are dangers here coral rock and sea life
unable to identify me - seeing me as a source of food
biting, scraping, rashing.... smiling I think much like life
on the other side of the dune
a different world? No it is the the same. All things come of beauty,
it is for me to see with new eyes, to watch, to become.
Yeah....... I must have written about this topic a million times, although not in this manner... well, perhaps yes.
I wait for that moment when my toes will meet
the waters edge, waiting just for me,
it is there that I know who I am
I look up and speak words out into the air
sometimes silently, some times aloud
I can feel my body shift as it becomes
a part of the water, before I enter I am there
Walking along, I glimpse signs of life and death,
shells that once held something living, now vomited up
as a gift to that one and one alone who will find it lovely
and gather it to keep
Visible signs of life, baby sea turtles, urchins and crabs
all there before me and as I look I see myself in them
I am part of this too, it is in me and of me
there are dangers here coral rock and sea life
unable to identify me - seeing me as a source of food
biting, scraping, rashing.... smiling I think much like life
on the other side of the dune
a different world? No it is the the same. All things come of beauty,
it is for me to see with new eyes, to watch, to become.
Thursday, August 4, 2011
His Eyes
This was half a prompt in a way by Lois.... wanting me to expound on something I had written on the men topic. I wrote the following maybe two years or so ago... when my life started to change, I started to change and maybe that's enough said for now.
He watches her
the child
playing in the hose
eyes fixed on her wanting
to be with her there
playing
His eyes close as the hose rises
to her head
as it tilts back into the sun
golden shimmers sparkle
in his eyes
he sees what he sees
that in his mind
the child
playing in the hose
The beads run down her back
he looks
closer
wanting to be that water
the bead
that slowly runs along the curve
staring
He moves toward her
the child
She smiles
as she moves
within the water
laughing
she remembers
how it feels on her skin
the trickle
He moves close to her
to reach
to touch
wanting what he sees
that golden sparkle
Her eyes fixed on him
say
come
come to me
come play with me
the child
He watches her
the child
playing in the hose
eyes fixed on her wanting
to be with her there
playing
His eyes close as the hose rises
to her head
as it tilts back into the sun
golden shimmers sparkle
in his eyes
he sees what he sees
that in his mind
the child
playing in the hose
The beads run down her back
he looks
closer
wanting to be that water
the bead
that slowly runs along the curve
staring
He moves toward her
the child
She smiles
as she moves
within the water
laughing
she remembers
how it feels on her skin
the trickle
He moves close to her
to reach
to touch
wanting what he sees
that golden sparkle
Her eyes fixed on him
say
come
come to me
come play with me
the child
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
What Are You Missing?
“Our Lord finds our desires, not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.” — C.S. Lewis
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Signs of Life
When Lois threw feet out this week for a topic, I cringed a little... I love my feet... but the past couple of months have been hellish, having a wound that would not heal from a run in with the reef, and a few other things... not only did it look bad it was painful. Required time, care, dressings... etc... shoe choices limited blah blah... I was starting to get a little obsessed with my feet. Yeah, weird I know.
This week was a week the likes of which I wish I would never see or experience again, although there were many good things, I went through a couple of traumatic and emotional days. Actually started the end of last week... but yet... the ocean is my refuge, I shall not want.
Monday, heading into my huge nose dive on Tuesday, came from Dr. and really didn't want to go to the beach... I knew the wind was up, meant surf up, which for me means no swimming, which is what I both need and want. And would have been great, but then I thought, I just go take a walk... ocean air blows the cobwebs and crap from my brain... I always come home clear headed and attitude adjusted.... it's my alone time with Papa. So the erosion is bad so my walk is limited, which was okay, I hunting treaures... looking... turned around and headed back and there in the seaweed, tangled in a mess was the tiniest baby sea turtle I had ever seen, so newly born he still had part of his umbilicus attached. He was lifeless and on his back. I believe in giving a proper burial at the least. I picked him up and placed him gently in my palm... I thought I saw him move... but you know how that goes... I spoke softly to him, whisper. I touch his tiny front flipper and swore it moved. I turn him over and can see him pulse. He is alive. Still holding and talking telling him I was going to bring him home, so fearful of cutting him loose in that surf.... 6-8 feet at least.... with wicked rip... but I am in one of my favorite spots, which is another reef area where the surf breaks out further and the waves are less severe. I am still staring, talking, touching, crooning sweet words to him, and then, he lifts up his head and looks from side to side. I walk slowly down to the water with him... mumbling all the while to Papa about letting him go... blah blah... I bend down and place him gently there.. the waves calm for a moment and off he goes... those tiny little flippers... such a wee baby.
I have a flashback to my early nursing career, I worked Pediatrics. We didn't have neo-natal care like today, anyone who was anything other than a normal birth was flown out to the Univ. hospitals... I flew with them quite often. We used to stimulate newborns with low apgar's by flicking the bottoms of their feet... a way to illicit a response. I have flicked many a newborn foot.... quite often the infant would respond... some didn't. What it did was give us a quick snapshot of where this newborn was, it was a way to check, to look for signs of life and response. Touching that flipper, and flicking the foot of a newborn... life.... signs of life. Reminders. Funny thing was too, I had my toes done on thursday and my feet look better to me...
Feet to me hold much symbolism, for many reasons.. "shake the dust off your feet and move on" touching someone's feet. A sign of humility, to kneel and care for someone feet. Are they connected to our souls, our own and everyone elses.... flippers included. Reminders.
This week was a week the likes of which I wish I would never see or experience again, although there were many good things, I went through a couple of traumatic and emotional days. Actually started the end of last week... but yet... the ocean is my refuge, I shall not want.
Monday, heading into my huge nose dive on Tuesday, came from Dr. and really didn't want to go to the beach... I knew the wind was up, meant surf up, which for me means no swimming, which is what I both need and want. And would have been great, but then I thought, I just go take a walk... ocean air blows the cobwebs and crap from my brain... I always come home clear headed and attitude adjusted.... it's my alone time with Papa. So the erosion is bad so my walk is limited, which was okay, I hunting treaures... looking... turned around and headed back and there in the seaweed, tangled in a mess was the tiniest baby sea turtle I had ever seen, so newly born he still had part of his umbilicus attached. He was lifeless and on his back. I believe in giving a proper burial at the least. I picked him up and placed him gently in my palm... I thought I saw him move... but you know how that goes... I spoke softly to him, whisper. I touch his tiny front flipper and swore it moved. I turn him over and can see him pulse. He is alive. Still holding and talking telling him I was going to bring him home, so fearful of cutting him loose in that surf.... 6-8 feet at least.... with wicked rip... but I am in one of my favorite spots, which is another reef area where the surf breaks out further and the waves are less severe. I am still staring, talking, touching, crooning sweet words to him, and then, he lifts up his head and looks from side to side. I walk slowly down to the water with him... mumbling all the while to Papa about letting him go... blah blah... I bend down and place him gently there.. the waves calm for a moment and off he goes... those tiny little flippers... such a wee baby.
I have a flashback to my early nursing career, I worked Pediatrics. We didn't have neo-natal care like today, anyone who was anything other than a normal birth was flown out to the Univ. hospitals... I flew with them quite often. We used to stimulate newborns with low apgar's by flicking the bottoms of their feet... a way to illicit a response. I have flicked many a newborn foot.... quite often the infant would respond... some didn't. What it did was give us a quick snapshot of where this newborn was, it was a way to check, to look for signs of life and response. Touching that flipper, and flicking the foot of a newborn... life.... signs of life. Reminders. Funny thing was too, I had my toes done on thursday and my feet look better to me...
Feet to me hold much symbolism, for many reasons.. "shake the dust off your feet and move on" touching someone's feet. A sign of humility, to kneel and care for someone feet. Are they connected to our souls, our own and everyone elses.... flippers included. Reminders.
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