October 20, 2010

Clarion calls happen.  Themes, an artful shape on which our lives get hung almost as if they are crafted that way. But it can't be so, can it?  Still, I can't totally ignore the consistency and life gets harder when I try.

Birds are one theme.  Gordon Lightfoot is in there.  Poetry, nature, Buddhism, all consistent since early childhood.  True, birds, poetry, nature, God, and Gordon Lightfoot are fairly ubiquitous.  But are they perched and dangling, do they appear to nearly holler "Over here, this way, yes, now, at this place" to everyone?

Apparently prisoners leave notes for each other in books in the prison library.  These notes are called kites.  Are patterns like kites from God?  It feels so silly to try and talk about it.  Yet, as I said, if I try to ignore it all life gets harder.

Here's what I think, then.  I think its hard to know how to live.  I've noticed you can't really count on experts or dominant paradigm, and certainly not fad.  Though, at any time any of those might be correct.  Often they are wrong.

Perhaps, if you are living right, patterns sift up and you can see them shining there like phosphorescence in the sand at night.  Maybe its that simple.  Patterns become more obvious, a thing you can begin to notice and rely on, when you are living well.   Maybe?

3 comments:

candyn said...

"Patterns become more obvious, a thing you can begin to notice and rely on, when you are living well. Maybe?"

I think so. I think it's always there. We notice when we look for it. I don't know what it is, I've called it many names throughout my life. Connectedness. God. The great math equation of what it is to be alive right now. But it is there and it is fun.

For me it has been Harry Chapin, rings, books, music, and oddly - fish.

Katherine said...

Oh, I love your list. I hope lots of folks leave their lists here. How fun to see. Fish, huh? Interesting.

Cecelia (CC) said...

Harry Chapin, horses, Appalachian mountains, illuminated journals, theatre.

"Pattern Recognition" is a common phrase in our house, spoken as a refrain when we wish for order in the Universe.