To step over the south-facing threshold of this darkening house and out
into the surprising almost light, the winter smell of cold and diesel,
to turn one way, west, toward a silhouette of shoes,
laces tied together,
flung over a wire
beside so perfectly unstraight a stroke
of pulsing black, a pole,
then nine strides north to where
those two horses made of grass and wind
draw changing angles to the ground,
whose soft noses break
my green heart, oh what it is.
I had merely thought to smoke.
Why would I call these things little
when they live me
as the life I do not have,
as large as this only moment.
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
My Heart's Content
Last night as I was lying in bed, I landed on the word "content" to describe how I've been feeling lately. This is not a word I've ever given much attention to; it's not phonetically beautiful, and definition-wise it's always seemed a little boring and naive to me. But when it came to me last night, it floated into my consciousness in a way that made me see it as if for the first time. I began to consider what it actually means to be content, to not desire anything more than what one has, because that is truly what I was feeling as I lay there.
We live in a culture that so values goal-setting and achievement, that it's no wonder contentedness is barely on the radar, that my automatic response to the word has been a sense of dullness and disinterest. I mean, if you don't want anything, what fun is that? What would motivate you to get up in the morning and DO anything? Who would ever receive special recognition for how content they are?
It had never really occurred to me that the meanings of the word as an adjective (con-TENT) and as a noun (CON-tent) are actually related. When I did a little research this morning, I discovered that they in fact have the exact same source - the Latin contentus, meaning "contained."
And this is perfect. The feeling of contentedness that I've been experiencing on and off lately has everything to do with the content of my life - not the circumstances, the content. The substance. It's all about what's inside the container of my life, which is related to circumstances, but only in the sense of how I perceive, experience, and integrate them.
Contentedness, I'm finding, is not a position of dullness and complacency, but a dynamic state in which the things my life wants to move into are contained. They find satisfaction first within my being and then flow out into form. It's not that I don't want anything, it's that want is reduced to its essence, a recognition that it's more about merging with energies than attaining objects. By merging with those energies within first, even the energy of desire, there is a first-level satisfaction, a contentedness created, which then allows the manifestation of any desire outwardly to be a natural momentum rather than a future-based striving.
In other words, my heart's cont-TENT because of its CON-tent.
We live in a culture that so values goal-setting and achievement, that it's no wonder contentedness is barely on the radar, that my automatic response to the word has been a sense of dullness and disinterest. I mean, if you don't want anything, what fun is that? What would motivate you to get up in the morning and DO anything? Who would ever receive special recognition for how content they are?
It had never really occurred to me that the meanings of the word as an adjective (con-TENT) and as a noun (CON-tent) are actually related. When I did a little research this morning, I discovered that they in fact have the exact same source - the Latin contentus, meaning "contained."
And this is perfect. The feeling of contentedness that I've been experiencing on and off lately has everything to do with the content of my life - not the circumstances, the content. The substance. It's all about what's inside the container of my life, which is related to circumstances, but only in the sense of how I perceive, experience, and integrate them.
Contentedness, I'm finding, is not a position of dullness and complacency, but a dynamic state in which the things my life wants to move into are contained. They find satisfaction first within my being and then flow out into form. It's not that I don't want anything, it's that want is reduced to its essence, a recognition that it's more about merging with energies than attaining objects. By merging with those energies within first, even the energy of desire, there is a first-level satisfaction, a contentedness created, which then allows the manifestation of any desire outwardly to be a natural momentum rather than a future-based striving.
In other words, my heart's cont-TENT because of its CON-tent.
 |
| The heart my very best friend crocheted for me. |
Saturday, September 17, 2011
Back From the Hive
It's been interesting to have a blog that's so very different from this one, with different subject matter and a new variety of virtual community. But I've missed those of you who I used to connect with through The Whole Blooming World, and I've missed blogging about the kinds of things I've written about here. I'm about to move back to town for the winter and one of my jobs is about to end, so I'm planning to spend more time here over the next few months, and to make time once again to read my "old" friends' blogs.
I love the fact that picking a color/theme for the year came out of blogging. This green year has reflected "greenness" in a variety of ways. Reflecting on it lately, I've been thinking about the Green Tara, and how she stands for "enlightened activity." This has definitely been a year of activity, of outward movement and energy. It's been great: challenging and rewarding in ways very new to me. Fulfilling.
But now I find myself thirsting for the inwardness of fall and winter, taking the time to retreat and rest a bit and process all that has happened, all that I've learned and done. I look forward to sharing some of that here.
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