We are all of us sad that the hurricanes have made an angry comeback again and again. There is a fatigue to so many horrors hitting our lives. I feel the shaking of the winds in the news stories and the desperation of the people. I feel the fear of the animals who understand less than we do. What I cannot feel is the self-satisfied actions of a President who thinks he is being benevolent by hurling paper towels at the crowd. Is that his answer to the need to clean up?
There are those who believe we possess a third eye that sees beyond what our two eyes do. I would love to find that deeper sight that is not just for the gurus and mystics. We need such vision too. Now that I am having cataract surgery on my two eyes, I’m glad no doctor can operate on that other eye that is either metaphor or reality to those who look beyond outward vision.
One of my students once asked me if the Vietnam War was important. I had a quick mental flash of so many pictures of coffins lined up, a child burned with napalm, heads cracked at the Chicago convention, and the weariness of the soldiers sent. Like many others I am waiting to see what Ken Burns Documentary makes of the War. I was living in London when some man in a pub slammed me against the wall when he heard my American accent over the conflict in SE Asia. I was stunned. He did not seem to care about my personal views, just that I was symbolic of America.
Echoes of the past still alive in music and protest and those who survived as well as those we lost.
Icicles are not what we thnk of on an autumn day, but the spreading cool has suddenly made me know where this year is headed. Where, of course, it is always headed. The sunflowers in the garden persist even with the ragged threads of dying plants clinging to their stems. I usually write better in the fall, but this spring and summer have made me busy , not knowing when the icicles of old age would start to form.
The biting of a hungry darkness
against the golden hope.
Haiku of heavens!
I am now 74 years old, It is hard to know how to surf the wild waves of this summer. I don’t really surf. I am speaking metaphysically.
Today I feel very nostalgic for all the years that have ebbed away. Writing rejections and reduced acting gigs remind me achievement is not everything. Or anything. One plants one’s feet in the chaos and takes off!
The beauty of water is that it is an element we need, but one in which we cannot live. We stand ankle deep in tidal pools , feeling safe, or swimming in oceans where creatures beyond our comprehension dwell. In Barbados years ago I went down in a small submarine to view a world I could never inhabit for more than those few minutes. A world unconcerned with my own. Fishes of translucent colors, plants with reaching hands, and slithery snakelike beings. It took my breath away for only a moment before I understood how limited we land bound creatures are.