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I was sitting in a waiting room this morning, bleary-eyed
and a bit grumpy from lack of sleep when I spotted a magnificent painting of a
moonlit garden on the opposite wall. Multitudinous flowers and bushes competed
for space along a garden path of flat stones and dirt. The path wandered down
to an entryway bordered by two brick posts, and a lush green expanse beyond.
Moonlight spilled out upon the garden and the green expanse, blanketing the
tops of the shrubbery with just enough light to hint at the incredibly varied
palette of the assorted flowers in the garden. I could actually feel myself
being pulled into the painting, basking in moonlight with nothing to interrupt
me but the sound of crickets and an occasional hoot owl. In that instant I felt
at peace.
And suddenly, I found myself wondering when the last time
was that I had actually felt that way…that idyllic sense of time suspended,
when the mind is at rest and the heart is open to the fullness of the moment. My
memories spilled out before me, like pennies tumbling out of a piggy bank.
Several minutes passed before I realized that I had to go back to childhood to
recall such a time. For a moment I couldn’t breathe.
When did life become so complicated, so full of minutiae,
that the hours melt into one another until days run by in one big blur and in
the blink of an eye another year passes?
That a Mother’s birthday celebration becomes one more obligation? That
saying “I love you” has an addendum of “… as long as it’s convenient.”? That internet networks replace the smiling
face or the hand of a friend?
Generation X can say what they want about their Blackberries
and iPhones but I remember a time when people came to my house, sat down at our
dinner table and actually spoke to one another face to face. When kids actually
left their houses, got on their bikes and rode to the park only to return in
time for dinner. When people walked to the grocery store and knew all the clerks
by name. When childhood mischief simply involved ringing a neighbor’s bell and
running away.
Some of you reading this might be rolling your eyes,
thinking that I am just another woman on her way to obsolescence but life back
then had a rhythm to it, an ebb and flow as constant as the tides. I can recall
that every morning I could set my clock by retired Mrs. Smith as she made her
way past my house—hobbling on her arthritic legs, the three blocks to the
newsstand to buy the morning paper. And that it must be Sunday because Mr.
Jones was taking his car out for a spin. Or that it must be July Fourth because
the street was blocked off, to make ready for our annual block party.
Predictable? You ask. Boring? Maybe. But there was a sense of security and
community in knowing the rules, respecting traditions and actually living among
real people. And a simplicity to life that left time for soul searching and a
checklist for self-improvement.
Did shocking things happen? Absolutely…The assassination of
the Kennedy brothers and Martin Luther King, The Manson murders, Nixon’s
resignation are things that immediately come to mind. But that’s just it. They
were SHOCKING… not tonight’s entertainment to be posted on internet blogs with graphic
videos inserted.
But back to the painting of the moonlit garden…
Just what was it that drew me in? The colors? The detail? Or
the concept? I came to the conclusion that it was the feeling of stillness…The
silence to hear myself think and let my senses imagine everything there was to
sense…the smell of grass and earth, the sound of night critters planning
mischief, the velvety feel of flower petals brushing against the tips of my
fingers, the vision of moonlight illuminating the garden, creating degrees of
shadow, letting the imagination fill in the gaps…I decided there and then that
I wanted more of that.
Humans were not meant to sit alone time and again, their
only view that of a liquid crystal display, complete with the incessant
clicking of a computer keyboard and disposable friends that can be removed with
the press of a key. We are living breathing complex beings that need all of our
senses to accurately size up any given moment in time. When I make plans with a
friend I want to see the way their face lights up when I make them laugh not an
“LOL” tapped off in automatic response as their attention flits from the PC
screen to the TV to the cell phone. I want to stand out on my back porch and
breathe in the night air, while I gaze up at the sky and count the stars …not stare
at a wallpaper of the night on my computer screen. I want to watch my teens
dance around the kitchen in resplendent silliness instead of following the
dancing baby on Facebook.
So the next time you get on Facebook or Myspace and my
status says that I have “gone fishing”, close your eyes and imagine me on a
sailboat, anchored offshore, with a rod in my hand, awash with the scent of the
sea and the salty air, ocean breeze at my back and then the feel of a live one
on my line, laughing while my kids help me reel it in.
The fish fry’s tonight, at my house. Come on by…But… turn the Blackberry OFF,
please…
and a bit grumpy from lack of sleep when I spotted a magnificent painting of a
moonlit garden on the opposite wall. Multitudinous flowers and bushes competed
for space along a garden path of flat stones and dirt. The path wandered down
to an entryway bordered by two brick posts, and a lush green expanse beyond.
Moonlight spilled out upon the garden and the green expanse, blanketing the
tops of the shrubbery with just enough light to hint at the incredibly varied
palette of the assorted flowers in the garden. I could actually feel myself
being pulled into the painting, basking in moonlight with nothing to interrupt
me but the sound of crickets and an occasional hoot owl. In that instant I felt
at peace.
And suddenly, I found myself wondering when the last time
was that I had actually felt that way…that idyllic sense of time suspended,
when the mind is at rest and the heart is open to the fullness of the moment. My
memories spilled out before me, like pennies tumbling out of a piggy bank.
Several minutes passed before I realized that I had to go back to childhood to
recall such a time. For a moment I couldn’t breathe.
When did life become so complicated, so full of minutiae,
that the hours melt into one another until days run by in one big blur and in
the blink of an eye another year passes?
That a Mother’s birthday celebration becomes one more obligation? That
saying “I love you” has an addendum of “… as long as it’s convenient.”? That internet networks replace the smiling
face or the hand of a friend?
Generation X can say what they want about their Blackberries
and iPhones but I remember a time when people came to my house, sat down at our
dinner table and actually spoke to one another face to face. When kids actually
left their houses, got on their bikes and rode to the park only to return in
time for dinner. When people walked to the grocery store and knew all the clerks
by name. When childhood mischief simply involved ringing a neighbor’s bell and
running away.
Some of you reading this might be rolling your eyes,
thinking that I am just another woman on her way to obsolescence but life back
then had a rhythm to it, an ebb and flow as constant as the tides. I can recall
that every morning I could set my clock by retired Mrs. Smith as she made her
way past my house—hobbling on her arthritic legs, the three blocks to the
newsstand to buy the morning paper. And that it must be Sunday because Mr.
Jones was taking his car out for a spin. Or that it must be July Fourth because
the street was blocked off, to make ready for our annual block party.
Predictable? You ask. Boring? Maybe. But there was a sense of security and
community in knowing the rules, respecting traditions and actually living among
real people. And a simplicity to life that left time for soul searching and a
checklist for self-improvement.
Did shocking things happen? Absolutely…The assassination of
the Kennedy brothers and Martin Luther King, The Manson murders, Nixon’s
resignation are things that immediately come to mind. But that’s just it. They
were SHOCKING… not tonight’s entertainment to be posted on internet blogs with graphic
videos inserted.
But back to the painting of the moonlit garden…
Just what was it that drew me in? The colors? The detail? Or
the concept? I came to the conclusion that it was the feeling of stillness…The
silence to hear myself think and let my senses imagine everything there was to
sense…the smell of grass and earth, the sound of night critters planning
mischief, the velvety feel of flower petals brushing against the tips of my
fingers, the vision of moonlight illuminating the garden, creating degrees of
shadow, letting the imagination fill in the gaps…I decided there and then that
I wanted more of that.
Humans were not meant to sit alone time and again, their
only view that of a liquid crystal display, complete with the incessant
clicking of a computer keyboard and disposable friends that can be removed with
the press of a key. We are living breathing complex beings that need all of our
senses to accurately size up any given moment in time. When I make plans with a
friend I want to see the way their face lights up when I make them laugh not an
“LOL” tapped off in automatic response as their attention flits from the PC
screen to the TV to the cell phone. I want to stand out on my back porch and
breathe in the night air, while I gaze up at the sky and count the stars …not stare
at a wallpaper of the night on my computer screen. I want to watch my teens
dance around the kitchen in resplendent silliness instead of following the
dancing baby on Facebook.
So the next time you get on Facebook or Myspace and my
status says that I have “gone fishing”, close your eyes and imagine me on a
sailboat, anchored offshore, with a rod in my hand, awash with the scent of the
sea and the salty air, ocean breeze at my back and then the feel of a live one
on my line, laughing while my kids help me reel it in.
The fish fry’s tonight, at my house. Come on by…But… turn the Blackberry OFF,
please…
Last edited by pegasus on Thu Nov 12, 2009 7:35 am; edited 1 time in total
