Ten days until my house move. A chaos of boxes in every room. My body is sore and my mind bordering an full-blown crazy. My dear Bella dog keeps looking to me for support and she misses our wonderful walks. I sat quietly and meditated on what advice would I give someone else. The answer was clear – get out of the house, go for a walk!
The Point Lookout Trail is here in Black Mountain and goes through private land into the National Forest. When I got home, I felt like I had been on vacation. I give good advice.
I subscribe to a newletter from Lissa Ranking - her discussion today was about fear and courage. It began talking about the massarce in Colorado and the heroism people had shown. Then she asked “Are you brave? What is the bravest thing you have ever done?” I have been thinking about this all day. There are incidents that came to mind but I was inclined to say that they were not big enough. Courage is defined as being afraid but acting anyway. What looks tiny to an outsider can be huge to the person involved. I will share a tiny thing that took great courage for me. When I was a young girl I was terrified of the dark. At the door of my bedroom I would slide my hand around the door frame so I could turn on the light before I entered. I talked myself into the courage to just walk in and then turn the light on. After I did it once I could do it again but I was never as proud of myself as I was that first time.
In my reader I found a post by Heart to Harp about facing her fear of playing the irish harp in public. She volunteered to play at a hospice center and shared the experience with us the readers. I think the post and the act are pretty awesome.
I wish Love and Courage for us all. How were you brave today?
John Donne, one of the most famous Metaphysical Poets. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
When I was 17 years old in 1965, I went on one of the most memorable dates of my life. This was the first time I heard the poem by John Donne that sparked the song. We lived in Jersey, an hour or two from NYC. The drinking age was 18 then which still had me underage so we were sober. (I got carded everywhere until I was 25.) Anyway we had tickets to a old fashion vaudeville show in “The City” which turned out to be very entertaining and quite great. We walked and talked and laughed and watched the people. Dinner came from street vendors, serenaded by the life and energy of New York. As it got later, time came to go back to the car……but where exactly did we leave it? We walked and walked and still could not find it. Somehow we ended up in the Bowery section and gained a walking companion. Granted he was an old drunk but a learned, interesting one who spoke to us of the preciousness of young love and life and truth. His oration of this poem brought tears to my eyes. In retrospect, what is most impressive craziness was that I was barefoot- my fancy heels were in my hand by then. Oh yes, we turned a corner and our friend was gone but we had found the car.
No Man is an Island by John Donne
No man is an island,
Entire of itself.
Each is a piece of the continent,
A part of the main.
If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less.
As well as if a promontory were.
As well as if a manor of thine own
Or of thine friend’s were.
Each man’s death diminishes me,
For I am involved in mankind.
Therefore, send not to know
For whom the bell tolls,
It tolls for thee.