Tag Archive for 'bench'
Fall betrayed me this past weekend by raising temperatures into the 80s with around 100% humidity. My friends called me crazy for wishing for cooler weather, but I’m a firm believer that fall should be fall. Interestingly enough, they’re not the only ones still wishing for warmer weather. Some of the flower patches around Boston, once white, pink and red, have been replaced with new flowers of the fall variety. I have nothing against flowers and I definitely think they look nice, but flowers should not look this spectacular this time of year. So for today’s post I’ve written a little something about letting go… I extrapolated the subject matter quite a bit, so don’t think that it’s all about flowers 
Patchwork
Why do people hold on so dearly to things meant to pass? Is it fear? Is it love? Or is it some jigsaw puzzle of both that we arrange piece by piece so that we may bring order into our lives? Does this order even buy us happiness, or does it preoccupy us with its quest as we incessantly mash our puzzle pieces together until they are dull and frayed? We hold on to so many things in life - habits, people, objects, seasons, emotions, thoughts, behaviors, pleasures, desires… and the list goes on. Some of these things are indeed conducive to happiness, but holding on to any one of them leads to pain and suffering. Is it any surprise, then, that when we try to put them all together the resultant product is a hodgepodge of ill-formed logic and emotional distress? Most of us today would agree that knowledge is power, yet with the advent of knowledge and technology, depression and unhappiness have run rife.
Where, then, should we look for the answers? Should we turn to God? No, for by now we are all well aware of the dangers of preaching the validity of one man’s God over another. Should we abandon knowledge and technology altogether in a grand revival of the dark ages? Should we let go of everything to the detriment of ourselves and our neighbors? Surely we have evolved out of such practices for a reason, but we have also evolved into other practices which were never meant to be. When we are not holding on, trying desperately to construct our life, we worry that we may lose it completely. We compare and cross-reference everything to ensure we have the best car, house, spouse, etc. But in doing so many of us have lost track of who we are.
I propose a different solution. Letting go - not of responsibility and accountability, but of self. Our egos have grown with our knowledge and pushed us further away from each other. While we were once dependent on our neighbors for survival, today we put up fences to keep them out. Why? Do we love our privacy, or fear our neighbors? Too much energy is focused on the “right” thing to do and the attainment of the “perfect” life. But perfection is an illusion that has grown with the ego of man. Let it go, let it all go. Be spontaneous, be unpredictable, be the moment, and for God’s sake, throw your puzzle pieces on the floor so you can play twister… it’s way more fun.
Fall Roots
Here is a shot from the Esplanade in Boston - one of the few places you can see the sunset in the city. I felt like writing a little story, so here it is. It’s kind of long, perhaps overly romantic, and definitely a bit sad, but that’s what I see when I look at this photo. Oh, and it’s not a true story. It may be, I have no idea, but I wrote it more from the perspective of the person sitting on the bench - there was something very bittersweet about the whole thing.
I Remember
I remember the forest’s edge where we used to linger on midsummer days as we watched the sun’s light yield slowly to the beckoning night - a beautiful combination of yellow hues, jaded skies, and fiery reflections burning in her eyes and lighting mine in turn. We tried desperately to hold on to what was never meant to stay, whispering slowly as lovers often do in hopes that their love will echo on for eternity - an eternity that only they can hear.
I remember the tree and the bench underneath where we used to sit, just laughing for hours. I would watch her delicate smile form carefully as her hair cascaded around her face, revealing beauty with every movement. And though our laughter would fade with the sun, we could still hear it in each others eyes.
I remember when I lost her, when they took her from me and said that our time at the forest’s edge was at an end. She would look at me with those eyes and say simply, “Remember.” Those were her last words to me, and they will echo on for eternity as I return to the forest’s edge to sit by our bench under the tree… to see her smile once again, hear her laughter fill the air, and watch the sunset in her eyes. And I remember. I remember and I smile back in hopes that I will see her once again.
There are some people who search everywhere for paradise. They pay thousands of dollars to fly all over the world in hopes that one day they will find their calling, far away from the realities that await them at home. But reality is what you make of it, not what it makes of you. Undoubtedly, “reality” will always follow these escapists as they run from one misconception to the other.
I have to admit that I often dream of being one of them. Dream, for example, of dropping everything and traveling the world in search of the freedom I so long to have - freedom from my job, my cube, my bills, my responsibilities, my… life. But ultimately, my own advice follows me wherever I go - look up, look around, and look within. Is this advice simply a cover for my fear of the unknown? Perhaps, but why travel so far when I can find a small piece of paradise on my rooftop escape.
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