Hither snowless cold Bitter fading sol burns Shedding silent tears
Earlier, I wrote about First Snow, in which I mourn the loss of Corrie, our 9 year old Border Collie. I wrote this haiku while thinking of Corrie, winter, and that lasting snow in northern Indiana will fade unless we halt humanity induced climate change.
Regardless of climate chage, all seasons fade; Life is eternal impermanence.
I’m listening to James’s Sit Down on repeat. Thinking deeply of the following verse:
Drawn by the undertow My life is out of control I believe this wave will bear my weight So let it flow
I have always loved imagery of waves and water as a manifestation of release. I think of the Pixies’s Wave of Mutilation or Frightened Rabbit’s numerous songs regarding the Forth or the Ocean. Or R.E.M.’s Find the River.
There is the salt of ocean and tears. The ebb and flow of waves and emotions surrounding loss. But also restoration and rebirth. Water is life.
Last night I read How to Grieve for a Very Good Dog, and wept. As I’ve shifted to working from home, my dogs are my companions. They are in many ways my world.
And perhaps the most powerful verse of Sit Down:
Those who feel the breath of sadness Sit down next to me Those who find they're touched by madness Sit down next to me Those who find themselves ridiculous Sit down next to me
This invitation is a reminder that we’re all experiencing waves of emotions. And at least in my culture, there’s little space for mourning and reflection. It’s all about “sucking it up and moving on.” A drive to “get back to work.”
Yet this invitation is to be present with others. To defy the calls for getting back and to just sit with each other. The very act of defiance by sitting and being.