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The Garden of my Mind

Posted by Dr. D , 30 August 2012 · 297 views

I think that the underlying motive of doing anything is to learn.  It’s to collect enough experiences in our lives to give them meaning.  That’s why I came to Mexico, to learn and what I learned has brought me happiness and new perspectives.

I have marvelous Spanish tiled floors so I don’t worry about inviting someone to dinner and having the carpet stained.  I keep nothing for that special occasion.  The special occasion is today.  The best china, the silver serving set, the Desmond ceramics are all out to be seen and used.  I even lit that rose shaped scented candle until it was a puddle of wax.  Everything is to be used and enjoyed, not hidden away awaiting some day that never comes.

I eat popcorn on the white sofa and light the fireplace without worrying about the ashes and breezes.  I sit on the lawn and play with my dogs without worrying about the grass stains. I stopped laughing and crying at the television and started doing it about life. I have time to listen to the fantastic exaggerations of children and the misty-eyed recollections of the old.  I am in awe at sunrises and sunsets. I spend time thinking about the missed opportunities to say “I love you,” or “I’m sorry.”

I have learned to use today and to erase “should,” “maybe” and “tomorrow” from my vocabulary.  I have learned to sleep when I am weary, to eat when I am hungry, to awaken and arise when I think it would be a good thing to do.  I have no schedules, no set hour for meals or activities.  I obey my needs and adjust the clock accordingly.  I wonder, how old would I be if I did not know how old I was?  The clock is something to ignore.  It closes in around you like quicksand if you make it your guide and master.

Things I used to consider luxuries are now my staples.  A glass of Merlot and a block of Gouda are perfect companions before the fireplace.  The music of John Barry, Streisand or Tchaikovsky are great to think by.  The incredible luxury of doing what I want and not what I must.  Oliver and Olivia curl at my feet to remind me I am not really alone and yet the aloneness is there and gnaws through the silence.

Is it hedonism, this thing I prize or is it something I earned and now enjoy?  Must things be shared to have meaning?  Does your sunset lose its splendor if you don’t have a witness?  Would the dark burden of loneliness be lightened by another voice?

The fire has lost its battle and only the faint glow of its glory remains.  The sky is sprinkled with the acetylene beaks of stars.  I enter the bathroom and flick on the light.  That image in the mirror is who I think I am.  It has no answers for me or promises about tomorrow.

I have posted about ghosts and yet the real one dwells within myself.  The persistent wish for one more touch.  The flavor of lipstick and fingers coursing my cheek.  The ripple of laughter like sleigh bells bouncing on silk.  Whispers and long walks through the garden of our minds.  “When you need me, visit me in the backyard of your mind and I will be there waiting for you,” she once said.  I search until I close the dark curtain of sleep around me.




You are a superb writer. I very much enjoyed this thought:

"The clock is something to ignore.  It closes in around you like quicksand if you make it your guide and master."

I will be taking away a new perspective.
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Simply beautiful, sad, and haunting.
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Galilei, on 31 August 2012 - 12:19 AM, said:

You are a superb writer. I very much enjoyed this thought:

"The clock is something to ignore.  It closes in around you like quicksand if you make it your guide and master."

I will be taking away a new perspective.

I write for a living, Galilel.
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