Thank you Danusha for your reflections and poem. So much to ponder here (as I paraphrase)…”most big things are unresolved”. Wow! So true and when you put it like that…I let out a huge sigh of relief! 😅
And thank you to those who have commented. I love the idea of reflecting on what I will leave behind (Thank you for sharing Monica), such as, my mother’s story in journals, the many art projects…the embroidery …🪡Does it matter that many are unfinished? Maybe a future generation can delight in the mystery of who this ancestor was with all the unfinished projects!
This lead me to thinking of those things (I guess here I am talking about concrete physical things) which I have completed…the joy and the satisfaction in the process of making these things is what I remember. As well as how the “thing” lead to deeper connection to other human beings!
This reminds me of a friend who died at about age 50. He was an athletic, creative, handy guy. His other friends and I cleaned out his storage locker after his death. (He had not been able to face emptying it beforehand.) There were supplies for making moccasins, gear for his diving business (cleaning ship's hulls) he meant to start, tennis equipment, painting supplies, a guitar and drums... etc., etc. I realized, as we cleaned, that he had headed down all of these paths, and many more, expecting to reach resolution with them. He expected to start a successful shoe business, to get good enough on guitar to join a band, to make paintings ...Of course, it resonated deeply with me. I have so much I hope (at some level) to resolve. I anticipate that tonic note -- some day. It's good to read your words and be reminded that what's right here is enough. And it may be all.
I love this reflection, and your poem. I think writing a poem can be an attempt at resolution, and reading a good poem can bring about that tonic state, even if just for a moment.
Pema Chödrön’s Six Kinds of Loneliness talks about this. Thank you for this lovely poem.
"As human beings, not only do we seek resolution, but we also feel that we deserve resolution. However, not only do we not deserve resolution, we suffer from resolution. We don’t deserve resolution; we deserve something better than that. We deserve our birthright, which is the middle way, an open state of mind that can relax with paradox and ambiguity. To the degree that we’ve been avoiding uncertainty, we’re naturally going to have withdrawal symptoms—withdrawal from always thinking that there’s a problem and that someone, somewhere, needs to fix it."
Thank you Danusha for your reflections and poem. So much to ponder here (as I paraphrase)…”most big things are unresolved”. Wow! So true and when you put it like that…I let out a huge sigh of relief! 😅
And thank you to those who have commented. I love the idea of reflecting on what I will leave behind (Thank you for sharing Monica), such as, my mother’s story in journals, the many art projects…the embroidery …🪡Does it matter that many are unfinished? Maybe a future generation can delight in the mystery of who this ancestor was with all the unfinished projects!
This lead me to thinking of those things (I guess here I am talking about concrete physical things) which I have completed…the joy and the satisfaction in the process of making these things is what I remember. As well as how the “thing” lead to deeper connection to other human beings!
This reminds me of a friend who died at about age 50. He was an athletic, creative, handy guy. His other friends and I cleaned out his storage locker after his death. (He had not been able to face emptying it beforehand.) There were supplies for making moccasins, gear for his diving business (cleaning ship's hulls) he meant to start, tennis equipment, painting supplies, a guitar and drums... etc., etc. I realized, as we cleaned, that he had headed down all of these paths, and many more, expecting to reach resolution with them. He expected to start a successful shoe business, to get good enough on guitar to join a band, to make paintings ...Of course, it resonated deeply with me. I have so much I hope (at some level) to resolve. I anticipate that tonic note -- some day. It's good to read your words and be reminded that what's right here is enough. And it may be all.
I love this reflection, and your poem. I think writing a poem can be an attempt at resolution, and reading a good poem can bring about that tonic state, even if just for a moment.
“We can strive to become the tonic note ourselves.” Yes!
Pema Chödrön’s Six Kinds of Loneliness talks about this. Thank you for this lovely poem.
"As human beings, not only do we seek resolution, but we also feel that we deserve resolution. However, not only do we not deserve resolution, we suffer from resolution. We don’t deserve resolution; we deserve something better than that. We deserve our birthright, which is the middle way, an open state of mind that can relax with paradox and ambiguity. To the degree that we’ve been avoiding uncertainty, we’re naturally going to have withdrawal symptoms—withdrawal from always thinking that there’s a problem and that someone, somewhere, needs to fix it."