daphnep: (kiddie/cat)
( Aug. 29th, 2008 11:04 am)
You move on.

Or rather, the world moves on, and you find yourself carried along with it. Time is a tide impossible to resist. Swimming against it is pointless flailing limbs.

The other day I was walking down the street, and a car pulled out of a driveway just ahead of me. The window was down and I had a straight view of the driver. She was a young woman with her hair pulled back in a ponytail. She was beautiful, and she was crying. Her face was pale and blotchy, her eyes were puffy, and her nose was red the way noses get when a person's been crying a long time.

I watched her crying and driving and I wondered what she'd lost.

I wanted to ask her: "What did you lose?"

I've been reading lj rather attentively. It helps a lot, for some reason. Livejournal is like so many rolled-down car windows, I peer inside and see all of you, crying as you drive. I look at you all and remember the things you've lost.

I wish I could fix it all. I want to give it all back. I want to bring your father back, and you, your beautiful girlfriend. I want to bring back the baby you lost. I want to make your cat better, and bring your dog back, and make your father better, make your little girl all better, and bring your own healthy body back. I want to give you a new kidney, you a new knee, and you a whole brand new start. I want Simon back.

But I can't do anything.
The condition of life is suffering, says buddha. So we keep driving, because we have no other choice.
daphnep: (ears)
( Aug. 15th, 2003 09:08 am)
This morning I awoke to the sound of a steady rain drumming on the roof...a sound you rarely ever hear in Tucson, where the rain, if there's any, usually takes the form of a late afternoon monsoon storm after a long, sweat-drenched, 100-plus degree day. But not today--today we have a slow, steady drizzle, and a sky that's completely gray from one side to the other, as if, if we're lucky, it might decide to do this all day long.

It feels like Massachesetts, or Ohio, perhaps, or even New York--any other place I've ever lived but this one. Raining like this, it doesn't feel like Arizona at all, and I'm in heaven. There's something beautiful about driving to work with the windshield wipers on, and since I woke up early (excited by the rain) I had time to get a leisurely breakfast at Scooter's, and drink coffee on the porch, watching people splashing to work through puddles. It's cool, and misty, and beautiful.

It makes me think of when T. was first trying to convince me to move to Arizona, because supposedly all the days are sunny and beautiful. "But I LIKE weather!" I protested. He said nobody got depressed here, because the sun is out every day. "But I LIKE rain!" I said. "It doesn't depress me!" But I moved here anyway, and within two months was fully depressed and on medication. But today, with everything splashy and grey, I'm feeling invigorated and happy, and even though it's been a crummy week, this morning all I have to do is look out the window to know that's it's going to be a great day.
daphnep: (red)
( Mar. 25th, 2003 03:30 pm)
A poem I copied into my journal 8 years ago this week which still seems appropriate now (or appropriate again?).

Dive for dreams
or a slogan may topple you
(trees are their roots
and wind is wind)

trust your heart
if the seas catch fire
(and live by love
though the stars walk backward)

honour the past
but welcome the future
(and dance your death
away at this wedding)

never mind a world
with its villains or heroes
(for god likes girls
and tomorrow and the earth)

-e e cummings


daphnep: (Default)


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