olive and ivy
the gardener discovered
an olive tree and an ivy vine
whose two kinds of bark and green
were dense and thickly tangled...
leaf shapes and colors so completely
different in character and design
yet grown so inexorably intertwined
over thirty years together
that now they were choking
the life out of eachother...
the gardener knew that taking
these two apart would kill
one, the other, or both.
the gardener sat down to
regard the stark beauty
of a task
so impossible
to begin
posted by snowsparkle @ 11:46 PM
27 comments
27 Comments:
As I read these beautifully chosen words, I made the gardener's plight my own.
I had to catch myself and remind myself that it isn't so.
The gardener is working with plants and not humans.
The intertwining of human lives only feels inexorable--but isn't.
I know I am designed to feel doom at even the thought of separation and to feel grief at loss.
Yet, I know also that I can survive far more pruning and transplanting than any gardener would ever suspect.
Begin.
My thoughts echo John's. We need to prune as we go along but we forget that. The results are what you describe so beautifully here. But do not let the fear of grief stop you from doing what is necessary for life, for won't staying as you are kill one or both, too?
snowsparkle... a long time ago, my job used to be preparing people for surgery, standing by in those last moments of consciousness and during their time of greatest fear. My eyes, above my mask, would hold theirs with as much comfort as I could muster.
I don't know what's ahead for you, but if words could do the same as looks, or hands, then mine would.
Pruning has risks but what are the risks of not pruning?
"the gardener knew that taking
these two apart would kill
one, the other, or both."
Why "would"?
welcome, john...i'm glad you came here and wrote your words so thoughtfully. i really am touched by your encouragement and gentle reminders that we humans are designed to adapt and respond to change more easily than our minds or hearts sometimes want to believe. thank you so much for your kind presence here. it brought me to tears feeling the amazing kindess of strangers.
big hugs,
snowsparkle
hi pauline, it makes me smile each time you ask the perfect question to each of my blogs. i love the way you think. your words are like sunlight descending as a shaft of fuzzy wamth through the darkened green, landing at just the right spot on the forest floor. i'm gonna stand right there in that spot. thank you for your encouragement. big hugs, snowsparkle
ah gracie! omg, you made me cry, reading about the gift you gave to people on their way into surgery. i immediately felt the comfort they must surely have felt in that moment with you. what a beautiful and generous woman you are. thank you for your healing presence here. big hugs, snowsparkle
hi lee, "would" was the word i chose i guess because it feels that way. i'll be the first to admit that my feelings don't always conform to logic. they overwhelm me like a giant wave delivering me into a rip tide. but as you probably wished me to see was that i'm focussing on the devastating part where as any good zen practitioner should know, all things contain it's opposite as well. surely there will be many joyful aspects as well which can only be found if i stay open to them. thank you for your strength and wisdom here. big hugs, snowsparkle
Snowsparkle -
wow. I love this. Reminds me so much of Mary Oliver, one of my favorite poets. I love the shape of this poem, the way the lines tumble down to the next. Like the trunk of a tree, the twist of the vine. And the ending. Pow, mama!
Thank you for this.
sweet maya, for you to see the faint roots of mary oliver in my work is praise beyond belief for me. i say a stunned "wow and thank you."
big hugs,
snowsparkle
As one who is facing the same task in my personal life--but possibly a bit farther along--
I can assure you that these tangles are living things, who can and will move with you as you act on your true feelings...
And the impossible becomes possible! We are not made to live in bondage to lifeless ideas, and the spirit inside us will show you the way (just a small bit at a time, unfortunately)
Love and honesty are a knife, before which all things become like butter...
dear firebird,
i lit a candle behind your wire sculpture for my birthday and i felt so happy... then your words "We are not made to live in bondage to lifeless ideas, and the spirit inside us will show you the way".... what better gifts could I ask for? i am holding you in a round orb of glowing light and love, wishing you peace and joy. i think this will be a great year for we who feel our way along in the dark. big hugs, snowsparkle
Most of my words are hiding from my fingers and lips these days, so the most I can offer is this hug as I witness the depth of what you share. Thank you.
"a round orb of glowing light and love"? Well, I think I'll just curl up and stay there indefinitely, if you don't mind...
Thanks!
Another little note to let you know I'm listening to your silence.
wenda and firebird,
wow... i am blown away by you coming here to leave a note... i feel humbled by this kindness .... you two are amazing women of heart and mind (to quote joni mitchell). I think i may be coming "out of the forest" in a bit and actually writing about what i've been through. as usual, it seems to include torturous trials followed by impossible miracles. you two women fit the second description. thank you again for being here with me through my difficulties.
big hugs,
snowsparkle
hope your "gardening" is yielding good results. I keep checking in, hoping for a blossom...
know you're being thought of
sweet pauline, thank you for coming here to check on me... i feel amazingly lucky to have your friendship here. the thing i've looked forward to is getting time again to write and read my favorite blogs... but on top my my stuff, my family and friends are having health issues and i've been pulled in a few more directions. i'm hoping the spring brings my rebirth to blogland.
big hugs,
snowsparkle
not to worry - just keep up with the weeding and the replanting and you'll be fine.
Write when you can - we can wait
Nah.
Much ado about not so much.
Us, the plants, he gardener, we're all so little...
Now as for the expertise of the gardener, if he keeps the roots wet with water and uses a sharp instrument, the plants will both survive, just as we, after some of the most traumatic and devastating situations, revive to full energy again.
I have a friend, Ali Gal, a cousin/ blogging buddy, has a dog with non'working back legs.
A dashhundt at that.
She got it wheels that set under its hind quarters and it LIVES!
and Jerry (the dog) is HAPPY!
Nah.
Much ado about not so much.
Us, the plants, he gardener, we're all so little...
Now as for the expertise of the gardener, if he keeps the roots wet with water and uses a sharp instrument, the plants will both survive, just as we, after some of the most traumatic and devastating situations, revive to full energy again.
I have a friend, Ali Gal, a cousin/ blogging buddy, has a dog with non'working back legs.
A dashhundt at that.
She got it wheels that set under its hind quarters and it LIVES!
and Jerry (the dog) is HAPPY!
Surely, a tough gig for the marriage counselor or anyone trying to loosen from the grips of something or someone. Loosening is possible without having to sever or cut.
hey boneman,
thanks for stopping by with your colorful story... i am picturing happy jerry wheeling around and am reminded of how resilient and adaptible we living creatures are. thanks for the encouragement.
big hugs,
snowsparkle
thanks for weighing in m. o. i.,
i appreciate your encouragement. it's odd that my inclination is to cut. perhaps i should investigate others accounts of thirty years of marriage and get a better barometer of ways to open it up some. big hugs,
snowsparkle
look at you, snowy. quite a river. your twists and eddies, trickles and falls. thinking of you.
norene!!! so great to see you here! i miss you! i miss your great writing. thanks for thinking of me and visiting my blog.
big hugs,
snowsparkle
lessee....
If your last post was Jan 11, then, this being March 23 means you're trying out one of those daylight savings time things only YOU'RE moving things ahead (behind?) a few months?
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