Monday, November 29, 2004

The poetry of life

The poetry of life surely seeps into your head today.

This was my horoscope for today, and although it certainly speaks to me, I was unable to write about it when I sat down under my extra bright therapy lamp.

Then over at Ever so Humble I started writing a comment about something that ESH wrote, as she imagined living somewhere else, and suddenly there it was, the poetry of life.

There is indeed something cleansing about moving. I have moved many times in my life, though never (well maybe once) to escape a place. The world is just so interesting, and there is so much to see. But I have the advantage of being a relatively introverted loner...and even so, it takes some three years before a new place feels like home. The real friends stay with you, even through multiple moves, but there is no question that bonds are tested. It's all a question of uninformed choices, solitary leaps into the universe.

Have I given up aspects of life that are good by moving so often? I am certain that I have. But it has never been my choice to give up people in my life (well, maybe once). I have been fortunate to be able to take chances and take up options not available to everyone. On every occasion, I have moved toward new vistas.

Yesterday I was delighted to learn that I had one reader who is not among my circle of family, friends and fellow bloggers. Nathaniel responded to my question challenge (which was shamelessly stolen from Robert) with good, thoughtful questions, including “What makes you feel most grateful when you wake up on an out-of-sorts day?” There are so many blessings in my life that it was hard to be specific, but when moved on to the next question and tried to think of what place in what time I would like to spend a week, I was unable to think of anyplace I want to be other than in this cozy room at the top of Trombley Hill, where the poetry of life comes to visit.

I’ll have to work on that question. It’s only a week, after all!

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