tulips and amaryllis
strawberries with brown sugar
a straw in the woods
jelly beans in a bowl
our hearts beating together
“I awoke and it was still dark. I lay there for a time reliving the dream, feeling other dreams stacked behind it.”
Excerpt from M Train by Patti Smith, 2015
All of my computer files are gone.
This is not a poem, or my usual thoughts to 70’s music on an afternoon drive. My computer died and the files are gone.
The main lesson here is that my usual way of dealing with technology, which is not dealing with technology, is not a good idea (apparently I needed a catastrophic incident to actually understand this). After running through the sequence of disbelief, anger, remorse, and sorrow upon learning that all of my work of the past 6 years is gone, I am left with an existential lesson of impermanence.
I am left wondering, so what?
My work for my clients can (mostly) be recreated. My writing, for the blog and otherwise, can also be recreated if not exactly as it was, in a new and maybe even a better way. The writing is not for posterity after all, it is for the experience, for the visual pairing of photos with words; the release of creativity set free into the world.
Photos that my son took in Cambodia, in Nova Scotia, Canada, Pennsylvania, Arizona, California, are all gone. Those photos can’t be recreated exactly, but again, the lesson of all that is fluidly impermanent rattles our reality.
So I am forced to look at this dilemma through philosophical eyes:
Everyone makes mistakes and all is temporary after all.
she was not broken
chocolate with coffee
balsam candles in perpetual burn
new books and old books
(new: The Moth Presents: All These Wonders
old: Daily Rituals by Mason Currey)
fresh calendars ready to use
brown bread with pecans and raisins
this show: Parks and Recreation
visiting with friends on cold winter nights
naps in the afternoon sun
hot pink petals
this song: Most People Are Good by Luke Bryan
dreaming on a little side porch
fig newtons and hot tea
saturday mornings with friends
this book: The Journal 1837–1861 by Henry David Thoreau
dinner on a blue and white farm table
ice cream for the pup
hearty wildflowers and herbs on the edge of the forest
reading under light blankets at midnight
and this song: Hello It’s Me by Todd Rundgren