The Nature of Stone

The whirlwind that has been work is receding and it's Friday, to boot. I am reminded of my parents who are retired and often forget what day of the week it is. Such ignorance is an earned right--one to be desired. I wonder if I'll ever lose track of my days that way. In a way, we all do. We feel like it's Thursday when it's actually Wednesday, etc. But it often leads to disappointment rather than a short giggle or shrug of the shoulders.

I'm looking forward to the weekend. Brian, the dogs, and I are visiting my parents and we're hoping to get a hike in, as well. I'm looking forward to bird-watching in their yard, playing some cards, having margaritas, and walking into my new bedroom which has a wonderful smell that never seems to fade. Hopefully it will be a weekend of relaxing my body and moving it equally. Relaxing my mind but enriching it equally. We all have those needs.

I was let out of my first job early along with a few other coworkers because we have been working very long hours on weekends, during days that we're closed due to weather, etc. We decided to go to a local bar and celebrate and inebriate (just a little because I had another job to get to a few hours later). It was nice to shoot the breeze with them and warm my body up with soup because I just can't get warm.

When I'm tipsy, I love to clean, so that's what I did until I went to the gym and ran a few miles, sweating out the work-stress and alcohol.

Tonight, I started and finished Mary Oliver's book of poetry The Leaf and the Cloud. The book is one poem, separated in various sections and so far since her death, this book has been the most telling of her stance toward death.

And here are more excerpts:

Nothing lasts.

There is a graveyard where everything I am talking about is,

now.

I stood there once, on the green grass, scattering flowers.

*

A lifetime isn't long enough for the beauty of this world

and the responsibilities of your life.

*

Slowly

up the hill,

like a thicket of white flowers,

forever

is coming.

*

(and one of my favorites)

It is the nature of stone

to be satisfied.

It is the nature of water

to want to be somewhere else.

*

(and another favorite)

This is the poem of goodbye.

And this is the poem of don't know.

*

I know I've been talking about Mary Oliver a lot but to be honest, I always talked about her. I still wonder What would Mary do?

Like her, I hope to be the satisfied stone, but it's also my nature to always want elsewhere.