She is taking care of herself as she has been done for the last twenty years.
She had never asked for help. So, do not put the unnncessary fear in her mind. It won’t work. She just asks for leaving her alone.
The sun is bright, leaves started to fall from trees.
She is glad… glad watching the shedding… the shedding… taking off the old, allowing space.
She loves to see the wide sky and the stars.
It’s her who has carried herself this far. It will be her who will carry herself from now on.
Let her take off her clothes that she outgrew. They are tightening her ribs. Let her go from this point and beyond by herself.
Maybe she already left, leaving her old skin behind.
<October 2019, re-written on June 2020>
A bear with me.
A bear became the bear.
The bear with me.
Bearing with me without the bear.
Another bear with me… no, maybe it’s a snake… or the snakeskin that I just shed.
Between natural beauty and cultivated beauty, I prefer cultivated beauty… like one sentence re-written again and again by a poet in sleepless nights. But I welcome every bit of beauty in the world as a thirsty traveler gulps down water. I wish for my arms overflowing with beautiful harvests when I depart my life here.
My color is gray and I don’t stand on any side of the road, which have caused many troubles on the journey in living. People continuously asked me to point where I belonged to, what I stood for, not knowing that values and morals were not my choosing. I chose beauty. I listened to the murmur of my heart and followed along with its lead. My life is on the road, not on the side of it.
Nothing is wrong in the world of beauty.
Everything loses its meaning in its full glamor.
Time stops to eternity in its moment.
A gasp… always enough.
When a tiny bloom meets my eyes, it seems that my journey doesn’t feel vain.
You don’t know what it’s like.
One day my little bird stopped singing,
getting cold and hard… every feather turned into a tiny icicle.
My hand reached inside to my ribs,
to find the sound that had been solaced my soul for such a long time that had become a part of me.
It wasn’t there.
When wind got cold and my figure got smaller,
the bird flew on my hunched shoulder and sat…
the little weight made me straighten up and open my heart to the storm.
Storms… always mighty, always indifferent… but,
I welcomed the rising wind like a child waiting for an adventure and
watched them passing with awe keeping my little bird inside, safe.
Do you know the feeling that there was something that you didn’t start but you were informed that it had already ended?
I waited for the day that I could take my little bird out to fly, one fine spring day with soft sun and gentle breeze, everything around sprouting green… whenever I saw the sign of warming daylight, I reached inside to touch the springy feather or the sleek beak… dreaming about the day of my bird’s flight, the journey, the soaring, the song spreading wide in the air.
But… our spring was robbed… my bird died.
We should have flown into that last storm, all wet… with the muffled sound of singing under the torrent… you’d know then… what living a life is like.
It is the great stupidity not using the immunity of humans in dealing with COVID-19.
It ended up dumping the enormous non-degradable waste to nature in shielding one human being from another.
Hare Rāma Hare Rāma
Rāma Rāma Hare Hare
Hare Kṛṣṇa Hare Kṛṣṇa
Kṛṣṇa Kṛṣṇa Hare Hare
- Kali-Saṇṭāraṇa Upaniṣad –
It felt so good to hear this song… after all this emotional turmoil… listening to the sound familiar and soothing… maybe a small blessing included.
I think of you… what you are doing, what you are thinking, what you are feeling… now. Are you afraid, pretending that everything will be okay?
My eyes almost filled up with tears when I got a text from you… just a plain message checking me out… but… I had a hard time trying to be brave at that moment and trying to take care of everything… and a little warmth from you softened something inside me and made me keep moving… keep going… like a mantra that my soul can lean on from time to time… in the world that suddenly became distant… and far.
Music includes silence between notes.
Pause between movements is part of dance.
… making life’s art with a long pause… beautifully, gracefully… or just fully…
or just by emptying all…
When I spent lots of time with very very old intelligent people, I didn’t feel their age until one day. One said about her ‘nothing to look forward to’ in her life and I saw how that feeling resonated right away with the others. That moment sank deep into my heart and made me sad.
I often think back those words after that day. They came out of nowhere… when I halted my step to blankly look at the top of a tree on the walk of my dog, when I woke up in the morning watching my face in the mirror in my bathroom, when I waited for my occasional date to be happening soon… as if those words stuck somewhere inside me and had to show their presence up to my consciousness.
That concept became my worst fear of my aging.
Not the physical weakness or the deformation of my body, not the vulnerability to sickness or pain, not the vicinity to death… but the state that I have nothing to look forward to in living.
However, it already arrived even before I hit old age.
I don’t have anything to look forward to by the forced circumstance… I pretend my calm in the swamp of nothing-to-look-forward-to-ness now…. silently screaming.
It’s funny to think about…
I couldn’t get enough distance from the humans in my past. I finally started to like being around with some human beings, and then, life arranged the distance from them.
Six feet away now,
then… six feet under… someday.
Time kills everything.
So, do not worry.
We are collectively killing time.
The virus will be gone eventually along with everything else.
Choose to live a bit.