Hang on. There are no disappointments or calamities that tomorrow will not cure.
It’s a dreamy day, a slight dusting of the snow;
The cats are snuggly ensconced on the couch.
On a day like this, I love listening to Rod McKuen.
A writer, a poet, a singer.
I collected so much of his poetry books.
Read and reread it
Pages earmarked on some
Scribbles on the pages of the book
Names of people who I can relate to the poetry
Most of these people are long gone from my life.
Rod kept them alive through his poetry.
It’s kind of silly to keep the memories of the past
And the weight of this is a burden for most times.
I wish I could carry it with a smile just like Buddha
Life doesn’t work out that way, one must let go.
Letting go of the memories starts by letting go of the books.
I gave away all of Rod’s poetry books.
Now I am going home.
“Home is something that you carry in your head It lives within your heart forever. And so I know no matter where I go in life I’m always going home.”
If you are at first lonely, be patient. If you’ve not been alone much, or if when you were, you weren’t okay with it, then just wait. You’ll find it’s fine to be alone once you’re embracing it.
We could start with the acceptable places, the bathroom, the coffee shop, the library. Where you can stall and read the paper, where you can get your caffeine fix and sit and stay there. Where you can browse the stacks and smell the books. You’re not supposed to talk much anyway so it’s safe there.
There’s also the gym. If you’re shy you could hang out with yourself in mirrors, you could put headphones in.
And there’s public transportation, because we all gotta go places.
And there’s prayer and meditation. No one will think less if you’re hanging with your breath seeking peace and salvation.
Start simple. Things you may have previously avoided based on your avoid being alone principles.
The lunch counter. Where you will be surrounded by chow-downers. Employees who only have an hour and their spouses work across town and so they — like you — will be alone.
Resist the urge to hang out with your cell phone.
When you are comfortable with eat lunch and run, take yourself out for dinner. A restaurant with linen and silverware. You’re no less intriguing a person when you’re eating solo dessert to cleaning the whipped cream from the dish with your finger. In fact some people at full tables will wish they were where you were.
Go to the movies. Where it is dark and soothing. Alone in your seat amidst a fleeting community.
And then, take yourself out dancing to a club where no one knows you. Stand on the outside of the floor until the lights convince you more and more and the music shows you. Dance like no one’s watching…because, they’re probably not. And, if they are, assume it is with best of human intentions. The way bodies move genuinely to beats is, after all, gorgeous and affecting. Dance until you’re sweating, and beads of perspiration remind you of life’s best things, down your back like a brook of blessings.
Go to the woods alone, and the trees and squirrels will watch for you.
Go to an unfamiliar city, roam the streets, there are always statues to talk to and benches made for sitting give strangers a shared existence if only for a minute and these moments can be so uplifting and the conversations you get in by sitting alone on benches might’ve never happened had you not been there by yourself
Society is afraid of alonedom, like lonely hearts are wasting away in basements, like people must have problems if, after a while, nobody is dating them. but lonely is a freedom that breaths easy and weightless and lonely is healing if you make it.
You could stand, swathed by groups and mobs or hold hands with your partner, look both further and farther for the endless quest for company. But no one’s in your head and by the time you translate your thoughts, some essence of them may be lost or perhaps it is just kept.
Perhaps in the interest of loving oneself, perhaps all those sappy slogans from preschool over to high school’s groaning were tokens for holding the lonely at bay. Cuz if you’re happy in your head then solitude is blessed and alone is okay.
It’s okay if no one believes like you. All experience is unique, no one has the same synapses, can’t think like you, for this be relieved, keeps things interesting life is magic things in reach.
And it doesn’t mean you’re not connected, that communities’ not present, just take the perspective you get from being one person in one head and feel the effects of it. Take silence and respect it. if you have an art that needs a practice, stop neglecting it. if your family doesn’t get you, or religious sect is not meant for you, don’t obsess about it.
You could be in an instant surrounded if you needed it
If your heart is bleeding make the best of it
There is heat in freezing, be a testament.
(Note: the italics and bold are emphasis that I want to remember and meaningful to me)
Two people that are faithful to each other’s writing. And they are both worthy of one another. I find them beautiful.
… and silent; and silence is not always a bad thing. And silence is not always a good thing. I’m late, and I’m silent, and my brilliant and beautiful wife has stumbled into slumber, which is a rational thing to do. There was some kind of get-to-gether last night all over the continent, and their focus was to turn their clocks back one hour. I was convinced to jump in on the madness, and that might be why I’m really tired and it is only 11:02 pm. Seems later. Apparently we were all supposed to “fall back” …
My (currently silent) partner, just broke her silence from her slumber and told me respectfully, “Its time to stop your computing, Dear. Its time to go to bed. So, I guess I will end with … Find your voice; rejoice; pray and listen. This week grab wisdom, and don’t be stupid. Peace, you guys,
Silence is neither always good nor bad,
but it is what clings to you late into the night.
My settled wife has stumbled into settled slumber,
a rational thing to do I’d agree, but still,
here I am, bone weary, too drained to get up and join her.
The continent this night got together to turn their clocks
upside down and backside front, and—convinced as I was
to connive in on the madness—I think that explains me
somehow: I was supposed to fall back and apparently I did,
because whatever time it is, it’s too late for me now.
“Dear, come to bed.”
Find your voice. Rejoice. Pray and listen. This week grab wisdom and don’t be stupid.
I went to bed.