But what is knowledge? Knowledge is that moment of enlightenment when you realize the more you learn, the more you don’t know a damned thing.
And power ~ what is that to a bit of space dust?
“When the power of love overcomes the love of power the world will know peace.”
~ Jimi Hendrix
I wonder if we ever will.
Understanding
I understand the earth; sinking my bare fingers into the rich soil to plant seeds so they, in concert with sun and moisture, can make life. I, the gardener, am only a tiny part of this. Plants will grow out of this earth when I am gone. But as long as I’m here, I like to participate. I understand the cycle that makes the earth rich, the earthworms and even the grubs. I understand the fragrance of fresh herbs, either in the garden when you brush them with your hands, or in the kitchen where they mingle together with vegetables to make a meal. I understand the sensory enjoyment of the garden, and of that meal ~ the smell, the taste and beauty of the colourful food on my plate, the sunshine beaming in the front window as I sit and eat.
I understand the seasons. Everything is a cycle, and the seasons bring life, going to sleep in the cold darkness to rest, and putting moisture back into the soil as the light returns to warm the day, and the soil ~ sun and light, bringing life once again.
I understand my daughter yelling at me when she is hurting. I am Mom. I used to fix all things. “And Mother with her hair pin, fixed it right away.” She is learning that Mom cannot fix everything. She is older and both her thinking and her problems are more complex, so she is frightened and her angst spills out. It’s a world that will not easily accept her because she is different. It’s a world that is not aware or informed ~ a world that will often be cruel and difficult for her to understand. It's a world in which she's already experienced the pain of haters. I wish I had a better world for her.
I do not understand depression or why some of us sink into those depths. I know during that time of year where the light is returning, the air is dry and the firewood is running low, life is already in the process of renewing itself. I know that under the earth, little roots are taking notice that it’s soon time to get up. But I can’t see them, feel them, hear them, taste or smell them. There is no sensory support except that my onions are beginning to shrink as new, green shoots pop out of the top of them. Yes, this is a sign of Spring too. Still, there is no sensory support, only the cold, dry, darkness. And I can’t quite reach into the light. Do I hold onto an onion?
I know that nature built laughter into our world. The male chipmunk gets up from it’s winter sleep in February. He is hungry and horny. But the females don’t get up till March, and if the male disturbs her, she will beat him up and toss him from her den. Yes, nature has a sense of humour.
But I do not understand people. I never have. I don’t understand what’s so hard about realizing we are all different, and that’s ok. I don’t understand why they all want me and everyone else to be just like them. I don’t understand what’s wrong with having different experiences and perspectives. I don’t understand meanness, insecurity that makes people belittle others, judgmental attitudes, bigotry, antagonistic personalities, bullies, or the need to control others. I do not understand greed. None of this is community. Community is where we not only accept each other’s differences, but enjoy them, embrace them, or at least respect them. Community is where we help each other, regardless of our differences. I understand community. I do not understand people who can’t grasp the spirit of community.
I understand irony, humour and Murphy. My life revolves around them all. In fact, sometimes in the fresh, crisp breezes of an autumn night, if I sit outside and listen carefully, I can hear the universe laughing, and I ask myself, are humans a scourge of the universe, a miracle, or just a funny, little joke that forces much larger than us are getting a great big bang out of? And then I laugh. Though I don’t KNOW the answer to that, I think I understand. Best to laugh; best to laugh.
Holding Onto an Onion, Laughing
Went to a place where they don’t judge
and was judged almost right away
by a young and righteous ego
who thinks I have nothing to say.
The irony is I tried to butt out ~
keep meddling words out of the fray ~
to avoid the spectre of judgement,
Yet, irony finds me anyway.
So what good to have an opinion,
aged experience or point of view
amongst those who don’t want to hear it?
They belong to their own version of truth.
He claimed it was all about honesty,
but he's spreading his karma thin.
Mote be that all the people he knows
are just as honest with him.
And I, blessed with spiritual wanderlust
find it's time to just move along.
I can teach how to spell experience,
but each must learn what it is on their own.
These are more lessons for an old broad
who’s been a few times ‘round the block;
so often I am the one who learns ~
despite limited time on my Earthly clock.
Yes, find the humour and pass it all by ~
the world will tick along as it must.
People will be just who they are ~
different specks of living space dust.
Holding onto an onion, laughing,
the root all shrivelled and old,
the sprouts consuming the root,
I guess the way all life must unfold.
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