Someone asked Steve the other day what he did if he didn't play golf. He then listed what he enjoys doing for leisure, but I found myself thinking I would not answer with what I do, but I would now say I enjoy being. In some ways, I have no choice in it. I seem to be too tired to even read of late, and so, I sit and feel. Today, I rest in the hammock of feeling fatigue, of acceptance of tears and rest. I am a lullaby today.
I offer this prose poem by Gary Young.
"Our life is one catastrophe after another. Disaster dogs us. I'm
the luckiest man alive, and you know what that means.
Earthquakes, landslides, falling trees. Wind and rain and rising
waters. What the hell, we survive. The coyotes are screaming on
the other side of the field; it's a strange music. The stars are out.
It's lovely here, and like the wind, I marry you every day."
Peter Johnson says that in this poem of Gary Young's "Good and Evil stand side by side, with Young suggesting that our response to them should be as natural as the elements that take turns pounding and consoling us." He also says in this poem "we somehow assert our humanity, as Young does when he remarries the world and an anonymous "you," most likely his beloved, though also possibly the reader because, for Young, writing implies commitment, spirituality, and recognition of contingencies."
I think, this morning, of this writing, of you and me, and the ribbon of life we breathe back and forth, like the fish in the sea.