I’ve been thinking or perhaps I should say pondering. I do so once in a while as I wander the hill.
I have noticed that persons seem to have a primary method of expressing themselves and/or of reacting to beauty and stuff and many people have at least one secondary method. But how people respond to an event/sight/sound/feeling varies so much.
For example, Cindy and Kent seem to respond to visual things with words that are at least sometimes expressed as poetry and usually expressed poetically.
My brother Earl, although he can appreciate a beautiful sight, rarely breaks into words. But he responds with words, often poetry, when he hears music or is thinking about an event.
I see pictures. When I read, even if the words are a description of an “abstract” concept or when I see something and want to capture the “feeling” inspired by the lighting or the beauty of a “line” by drawing or painting. But I don't see pictures in response to music.
I think that Cindy and Kent also both have at least one secondary response and that is visual through their ability to see in a way to take awesome photos.
Earl’s secondary(ies) – he responds by playing his own compositions on the piano in response to feelings, ideas and has been known to “doodle” by making an abstract drawing.
Me, my secondary might be words in that I respond with words sometimes but am more apt to “tell a story” in response to, well, just about anything rather than write anything faintly resembling poetry
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Sharing
I have recently "joined" Facebook (if "joined" is the correct term). I even have admitted to be relatives of some persons - relatives all. All was going well until I received the following:
Your relatives are wanting to know one thing today, what are you doing this weekend? To share an update with your family on what you are doing this weekend (even if it is staying home...
Sharing to me would not be to know what you are doing this weekend. I might be interested in knowing to what sound you woke this morning? Did you see or hear something that stopped you in your tracks? Did you see something that you have walked past day and day without seeing it before? What made you smile today? Did you make someone smile today. Did you see/hear/read something so beautiful that it brought tears to your eyes. Have you taken pictures of fire hydrants? Share something with me or ask ME a question. BUT don't ask me to "share" by asking me to tell you what I did (unless I know you and know you care). So I answered with:
" I read a poem " :
It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living.
I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart’s longing.
It doesn’t interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dreams, for the adventure of being alive…
I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it or fade it or fix it.
I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own, if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, to be realistic, to remember the limitations of being human.
It doesn’t interest me if the story you’re telling me is true, I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself; if you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul; if you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy.
I want to know if you can see beauty, even when it’s not pretty, everyday, and if you can source your life from its presence.
I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand on the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, “Yes!”
It doesn’t interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up, after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone, and do what needs to be done to feed the children.
It doesn’t interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the center of the fire with me and not shrink back.
It doesn’t interest me where or what or with whom you have studied.
I want to know what sustains you, from the inside. When all else falls away.
I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.
"Oriah Mountain Dreamer"
Your relatives are wanting to know one thing today, what are you doing this weekend? To share an update with your family on what you are doing this weekend (even if it is staying home...
Sharing to me would not be to know what you are doing this weekend. I might be interested in knowing to what sound you woke this morning? Did you see or hear something that stopped you in your tracks? Did you see something that you have walked past day and day without seeing it before? What made you smile today? Did you make someone smile today. Did you see/hear/read something so beautiful that it brought tears to your eyes. Have you taken pictures of fire hydrants? Share something with me or ask ME a question. BUT don't ask me to "share" by asking me to tell you what I did (unless I know you and know you care). So I answered with:
" I read a poem " :
It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living.
I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart’s longing.
It doesn’t interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dreams, for the adventure of being alive…
I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it or fade it or fix it.
I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own, if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, to be realistic, to remember the limitations of being human.
It doesn’t interest me if the story you’re telling me is true, I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself; if you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul; if you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy.
I want to know if you can see beauty, even when it’s not pretty, everyday, and if you can source your life from its presence.
I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand on the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, “Yes!”
It doesn’t interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up, after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone, and do what needs to be done to feed the children.
It doesn’t interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the center of the fire with me and not shrink back.
It doesn’t interest me where or what or with whom you have studied.
I want to know what sustains you, from the inside. When all else falls away.
I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.
"Oriah Mountain Dreamer"