Trail Notes: 11.11.26
"It’s a day to remember"
I stopped to see if the clouds are being
pushed along by the wind.
The tide is in and the waves crash right
next to the pathway.
It’s such a delight to see the wide-open
sky as I look out over the bay.
It makes me feel like I’ve been shut
away for years.
But now I can see! Hallelujah!
…
I’m waiting for the Muse.
I’m trying to trick her. I want her wisdom
for selfish reasons and I wonder if she knows it.
So I pretend. I pretend to be empty. I pretend
not to be needy. I pretend I won’t be selfish.
Does that work? I know it doesn't work.
Perhaps I’m stuck in comparison. I read
a poem this morning that was rich in
philosophy, psychology, and literary symbolism.
Padraig O Tauma selected it and then surgically
dissected it and I feel like I’m too simple minded for it all.
Yet, I’m open to wisdom whose depth is unfathomable.
My muse is the cottonwood tree.
My muse is the sea.
My muse is the sun rising in the morning behind
Mount Baker and the Twin Sisters.
How about a walk down the pier?
A runner arrives just after me at the end of the pier
looking like he’s ready to give a motivational speech.
I try not to look at him. The thought that comes
to mind is:
How about nothing?
How about standing in the wind looking out at the bay?
How about Marlene, my mom’s dear friend, waving hello as I pass by?
How about the flags flying at half mast on this day to remember?
How about Ed (Marlene’s husband) and Owen saying “hi” to everyone
they meet as they shuffle along the promenade?
How about the sunrise this morning? A dynamic light show
with pinks, purples, reds, blues, whites and greys all around
the mountains and on the surface of the sea.
How about meditating with friends?
How about a bit of sciatica?
How about not knowing what to do today?
(To holiday or not holiday that is the question.)
How about not comparing?
(Now heading home)
How about the smoking man on the step beside the stairs
that I greet almost each day? (He’s not there today)
How about the homeless man passed out on the stairs
with an an open box of cookies?
How about “da bears?” Seriously, how about ‘em?
It’s a day to remember. It’s a day that’s not about me.
I found out recently that my great grandfather served
in World War I. I have the records. My sister says he
possibly served in WW II as well. He left my grandma
with her uncle and aunt after my great-grandmother
died. He was always a little bit disparaged by our family
for doing that. Plus, he drank - oh no! I wonder what deep
scars he carried inside him as a result of those two wars.
Today is a day to remember.
