Monday, September 5, 2011
If dreams were lightning...
Just saying, I will never weary of John Prine. Hope the same is true for you.
Following the morning of The Snap (see previous post), Sunday arrived with clouds and rounded out the late afternoon with a bruise-colored sky, thunder and lightning.
Los Angeles can go, I have no doubt, years without a thunder storm. This one was strange for having given forecasters the slip, for arriving in early September and stranger still for being dry. When the pyrotechnics were over and it was fully dark, then we had some rain.
Not every dark cloud that drifts across my sun is invited to these posts. It is just not my way. Those are not, or not yet, the stories I come here to tell. It was synchronicity, as I understand it, being true to itself that sent discordant. curious, anomalous weather, big and loud, breezy and chilly enough for me to notice so I could write about order displaced. Maybe someone has a quote somewhere that tells us, when saying what is true is too alarming, write about the unpredictability of nature.
Worry is time and energy ill-spent; it makes us sick and that is all it accomplishes. Every day I peel worry off like nail polish, which I really cannot wear without becoming a 10-year-old but that doesn't keep me from stockpiling it in the make-up drawer. I might mature.
Worry used seem like a tattoo, a spreading birthmark from which I thought I'd never be free. Some things, when practiced, become easier. If I can unlearn worry, perhaps one day I will play a stringed instrument, a ukelele if not a mandolin. Impossible things happen.
I will pay attention when weather speaks to me, trusting it has just offered itself to stand it for truths that still seem beyond my reach or capability. Or it may be the tool for augering, hinting at favorable outcomes or reminding me that sometimes a cloud is just a cloud.
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18 comments:
Gorgeous writing, Marylinn. I'd like to be able to peel off worry like nail polish. and as for the weather, it's one of those wonderful things that lend itself to words, and more words, especially when it comes unexpected.
No need to worry, just write.
good.
good you are paying attention to the auguries of life.
It takes quiet, inner quiet, so all must be well with you.
Elisabeth - Thank you. Some days the peeling is more difficult, yet I keep scratching at it. I did not leave you a comment, as I intended, to thank you for providing the model of responding to comments that I find so satisfying. I learned it by reading your blog. And writing is one of the antidotes for worry, one of the few. xo
Denise - I may pay TOO much attention to the auguries, but it is what I know to do. Inner quiet is hard-won. We will see how it stands up to this road test. xo
yes, beautiful writing, marylinn. i too have been wondering about the care & feeding of worry...you might say, worrying about worry, and its nasty kissing cousin, anxiety. i'd pretty much like to starve both of the little buggers to death.
thanks for being out there, waving the white flag for sanity :)
xo
susan
Susan - Thank you. I would starve them as well, since both possess the ability to eclipse everything and contribute nothing, persistent as weeds and cowlicks. That I am waving anything for sanity is possibly one of the wonders of the modern age. xo
My first visit to your blog Marylinn. I came over from Kelly K's. place. Very timely writing for me. I adore John Prine's song so listened to it twice. I had just spent an hour on the phone with my sister, far away, sharing worries and fears about family things we have NO control over. I am sending her this way to read your post about worry!
Marylinn- Just loved this thoughtful and "snappy" post. Irene was our snap. Whew, glad that's over.
A few years ago, at a small venue, I saw John Prine. With Iris Dement! A magical and totally worry-free night. It still smile when I think about it. Just saying.
I think we all may now be quoting Marylinn. ;)
Barbara - Welcome, nice to meet you here. And 'vintage' John Prine may be (forgive me) even better than present day...this is a particularly fine video. If I have added anything that decreases the worry trying to entangle you and your sister, I am happy. It is a demon and no mistake. There is really not much beyond our own selves over which we DO have any control. Thank you for commenting.
Jayne - Thank you. I am so glad on behalf of all of you that Irene has moved on. Would that she had not left so much wreckage in her wake. I haven't seen John Prine live since the 70s, to the best of my recollection. AND Iris Dement, whose magical hymn at the end of TRUE GRIT will not leave me. Just saying. xo
thank you marylinn. i cannot listen to john prine i love him so much and he is tangled up in such a hard time in my life. writing is the cure and the disease as well. weather is the bell curve. follow the bend of the moon.
rebecca
Rebecca - As Leonard Cohen sings, "I'm guided by a signal in the heavens..." The bend of the moon will do nicely. I have a similar, yet not as hard a connection to John Prine and I cannot stop posting his earlier videos. There were a few years when I listened to no music at all. How, I do not know. xo
The Buddhists believe that worry is a result of attachment. Thus if you remove the attachments, the worry dissolves.
What an odd coincidence; I just moments ago quoted a John Prine song as a comment on another blog! "Mr. Peabody's Coal Train".
Laoch - I agree with the attachment, and what I think is our belief that we have control over things which we do not, as though fretting (a negative thought pattern) about something can change the outcome.
Robert - A quotable poet with words and thoughts for all occasions, Mr. Prine. I am a great fan of the man and his music.
Oh, John Prine. Thank you.
Beth - You are very welcome. I watched the video again before replying, so thank you. Mmmm, mmmm.
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