+WHAT IS THIS LIFE?

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Monday, May 12, 2014.  Too many titles.  Nearly every thought that swirls around to come up at the top of my mind this morning sounds to me like a possible blog post title.  Too Many Titles is one all by itself.  If a title is meant to signify a complexity of thoughts underneath and connected to it, then it is clear to me today that there is simply TOO MUCH INFORMATION in my universe today.

In the Aftermath of Mother’s Day would be another possible title.  Nobody can ever prepare for being a parent.  Not really.  What I am learning by being up here with two of my grown up children is that nobody ever prepared me to parent THEM.  Not at this stage in their lives.  Not at this stage of mine.

Stage?  Drama.  Is it truly possible to BE a human being without drama being present?  I often think of Dr. Carl Jung these days.  Collective drama.  He named the patterns of the key players that show up over and over again as “archetypal” roles played at one time or another by every human being around the world.  I don’t see how we can deny this no matter how individually unique we might like to think we are.

The Goose and the Rabbit.  Another possible title for this post.  In fact, if I were to boil down into some kind of essence what is going on in my life right now I would nail it with this title.

The Goose.  A gorgeous Canadian honker standing behind a chain link fence barely taller than its head, neck stretched as far toward the sky as it could reach.  At Fargo’s small but so-well managed zoo I went to with my daughter yesterday and the grandboys.  Free moms’ day.  Free perhaps for everyone but the animals trapped by human error that threatens their global extinction.

Geese are not so threatened.  But on a ONE basis THAT goose was so distressed it was honking its heart and soul out to the corners of the cosmos — crying and crying WHAT?

Oh my heart broke for that little (perspectively) wild creature.  Could it fly?  I don’t know.  Was it physically injured and best kept behind a fence not much taller than it was?  I do not know.

Of all the families full of people walking the tidy pathways of that zoo yesterday — ALL being able to hear the pleading — I was the only one who stopped both to speak to the goose and to listen to it.  “Poor poor baby.  I am so sad to see you so sad.  What is WRONG?”

The goose lowered its beak from its frantic pointing at the sky, turned its head sideways and gazed into my eyes.  It became silent and did not move.  At that point I had no need for words and neither did it.  Just love.  Just love between us.  Just a widening circle of awareness bending outward in all directions from the two of us at the center.

It seemed like everything else disappeared around us.  Changing focus.  Connecting up.  A kind of shorthand linking, a silent texting from center to center inward and outward.  Just precious.

I walked away finally with a quiet goose left standing beside the fence.  I visually checked backward as our family moved forward to see how the goose was doing.  I checked several times.  The goose was quiet.  And in that quiet I could feel it resting.

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The Rabbit?  At the end of a very long and pleasant day spent with family yesterday it rained.  Standing outside my daughter’s car.  Soaking.  Talking that kind of talk that escalates into a clutter of power-filled words that dig a hole between two people.  Wider and deeper than anyone ever hoped for or intended.  But words that HAVE to be spoken.  Sooner or later as the complexities of intertwining lives through the generations find their way into the light of day.  Or into the darkness of a chilling rain soaked night.

I feel fortunate that last week I decided to send my first phone text.  Now this  honking bleating of generational complexities voiced out into the darkness can be bypassed in texts about the details of daily life when need be – and nothing else.  Nobody means to harm.  Nobody understands one another.

Suddenly my daughter spoke a few words to me that belonged to some other conversation.  Some other kind of conversation:  “What is that rabbit doing there behind you?”

I turned to see what she saw.

Oh Soul of my Soul!

My young small gentle wild rabbit friend.  We did not abandon one another during that long frigid winter.  I with the tuna cans of food portioned out double on the coldest of nights.  It with its courage and willingness to love me, closer and closer, but never quite touching.

“Oh my friend.  There watching my back on this cold hard night of a different sort.  Thank you.”

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Here is our first book out in ebook format.  A very kind professional graphic artist is going to revise our cover pro bono (we are still waiting to hear that he has accomplished this job – I think we will have to find an alternative!).  Click here to view or purchase –

STORY WITHOUT WORDS

It lists for $2.99 and can be read by Amazon Prime customers without charge.  Reviews for the book on the Amazon.com site

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2 thoughts on “+WHAT IS THIS LIFE?

  1. How sad for that goose. The Canada Goose mates for life. I hate seeing one alone because it means its life partner is gone for whatever reason. Usually the reason is tragic. I believe you made a real connection with that goose. I feel like people who have known chronic neglect, rejection and isolation in life have a special connection with animals. One that is far above and beyond what other people experience. I believe animals sense that. Thank you for taking the time to connect with that bird.

    If your heart and soul yearns for nature that you cannot find where you are now, consider checking out this page. It’s a nice tranquil place to spend time.

    http://cams.allaboutbirds.org/channel/8/Great_Blue_Herons/

    • thank you for the link and comment – once baby leaves today will check site — yes, thinking that what happens to the goose – FELT that way, such lost longing sorrow. I will miss these geese if I return south –

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