It rains a lot in Vancouver and I learned how to love the rain. It’s better to love it than hate it. Rod McKuen’s poetry in song says it all for me.
As she looked at her own face in the mirror, she suddenly recalled the sorrowful widow. It was at that moment that she wrote the opening lines of “Solitude“.
Laugh, and the world laughs with you;
Weep, and you weep alone;
For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth,
But has trouble enough of its own. ~ Ella Wheeler Wilcox
In giving shape my view of the world having a solitary person in the foreground suggests that it is okay to be alone but not lonely.
All work and no rest makes a man boring. Rest he did in his three-wheeler taxi cab. Who needs money when one is too tired to enjoy life. When he wakes up from his solitude, life becomes bearable again.
And what on earth is he doing down there alone? Fishing! Men prefer to reel a fish similar to playing golf, alone. So why do men enjoy fishing alone? Because the fish are bigger and the stories are better with no witnesses!
In a crowd of a million tourist, he just have to sit down with a non-verbal companion. Maybe he had enough listening, blah-blah-blah. Or maybe he is just like me observing how silly tourist really are. Or maybe he left his wife in a store shopping. Or maybe…
Ah, solitude, such sweet surrender.
“Rest here, quiet your mind and tune your heart, for I have much to tell you.”
“Blessed are the serene in spirit.
“Blessed are they who are not held by possessions, for they shall be free.
“Blessed are they who remember their pain, and in their pain await their joy.
“Blessed are they who hunger after truth and beauty, for their hunger shall bring bread, and their thirst cool water.
“Blessed are the kindly, for they shall be consoled by their own kindliness.
“Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall be one with God.
“Blessed are the merciful, for mercy shall be in their portion.
“Blessed are the peacemakers, for their spirit shall dwell above the battle, and they shall turn the potter’s field into a garden.
“Blessed are they who are hunted, for they shall be swift of foot and they shall be winged.
“Rejoice and be joyful, for you have found the kingdom of Heaven within you. The singers of old were persecuted when they sang of that kingdom. You too shall be persecuted, and therein lies your honor, therein your reward.
What is prayer?
You take words,
and all of a sudden they become holy.
Because there is something
that separates one word from
another and then you try to fill
With what memory?
With what aspiration?
So when words bring you closer
to the prisoner in his cell,
to the patient who is dying on his bed alone,
to the starving child,
then it’s a prayer.
words by Elie Wiesel