Now that the warm weather has returned, our lives are fraught with possibility. For those whose cicumstances compel them to be sedentary, there is always the backyard! Indeed, while dreams of faraway places yet stir, entire worlds bustle in our midst, and we barely pay them any notice. Culture so idolizes the exotic, that it rarely if ever portrays our provincial commonwealth, of trees in parks, or flowers burgeoning in the midst of concrete. Our everyday surroundings are quite extraordinary, and no less a statement to the miracle of life than a distant giant whose lot it is to be photographed by flocks of tourists. In aspect, perhaps insignificant, the phenoms we so carelessly pass on our way to work, or while waiting to be picked up on street cornerns, are merely smaller versions of the relatives we admire in the pages of National Geographic.
What is not to love in a houseplant, that may be adored in the verdure of the rainforest? Granted, we tire of familiar sights, and our longing is satisfied singularly, by that which our eyes have not yet pierced. But it is unfair to the everyday miracles, that we treat them with disdain, and stoop to inspect them only by way of condescension.
One can learn as much about life by studying a dandelion, as by photographing a hundred rare blooms across multitudes of faroff borders. That which is to be admired, is equally present in the eyes of a house cat, as in the orbs of a tiger. What song is so sung by birds of “paradise” that spoils the beauty of a bluebird’s lilt?
Are the answers to life’s lasting questions not further than the pine tree out your window, or the handful of Earth you lift from your garden? Why go far, when the world awaits so near?
I am reminded just now, of something my partner once told me: “The best part of traveling, is coming home”. Here, here!
April 24, 2009 at 7:37 pm |
Very valid points, and worthy of consideration. But then there’s always “absence makes the heart grow fonder”, a favorite of mine:) Even magnificence can pale in time, simply because many people (I can’t say most, I’m not a sociologist) crave variety in their lives. I think we need the unexpected and grandiose in our lives as much as the simple things we use and love. The best part about leaving is coming home because being away lends itself to appreciation of all things, not just the things you left to experience.
I wonder is this is the real reason we have holidays and festivals. They break up the mundanity of existence. I doubt that there’s a culture in the world free of special celebrations and ceremonies, and because we get to experience something special, we can look at what we already have with a greater sense of appreciation. Just musing.
April 24, 2009 at 10:29 pm |
Our own backyard does hold the same creative magic as does space or the cells we can’t even see in our body or know but keep us alive. I think Cath is correct, we need something to break up the regular life cycle we get into to say “this is something speical” Coming home to where you are comfortable after traveling or being away, there is nothing like it, almost like the first foot in that bath with all the scents and smells. We notice things we have forgotten or overlooked. Perhaps we need to have a day a week where we try and do something out of the routine. I know I don’t talk as much to people, I am very quiet and inside my own inner world now. Perhaps it is a cycle of opening and retracting. I am glad you are hugging that tree in your backyard, I am sure it appreciates it.
April 25, 2009 at 5:41 pm |
Greetings, friends, and a happy Saturday to you all!
As always, I love reading your comments.
Your responses remind me that contrasts are both natural and essential in our world. Exceptions cannot exist without rules. If our eyes are to be drawn to a sight in particular, it must vary with sights in general, at least to some degree. I suppose this is what makes life so exciting: one tends to find rarities alongside conventions.
Yet, with all that we may say on behalf of holidays and the surprises that thrill, do we retain a healthy apprciation for the wonderful things that we enjoy from moment to moment? The everyday things, that so often slip through the cracks? Sometimes, I worry that we, as a species, are afflicted more so by boredom than by any other disease, whether of the mind or the body. The objects of our fascination, remain thus only for the briefest season before we discard them in favor of something even newer. Our cultures across the world, are becoming more and more disposable. Little abides, that once was called “classic”. The term itself presupposes longevity and the capacity to touch people across many generations. What, now, can we point to, that will remain in fifty years’ time and bear its effects as potently as it does today?
I do love traveling, and seeing new places, and to be sure, there are things “out there” that will never be seen in our everyday settings. But while we admire what is exotic, I believe we should nurture back-to-life, our appreciation of what we can enjoy everyday.
What does it say when, given the choice, we are so quick to board a plane to the mountains of Nepal, but we yawn when we think about setting foot in our very own Rocky Mountains? What is the difference, save several miles by air? Why do our minds so lighten with thoughts of other places, even when those other places share character with the ones we see everyday?
April 25, 2009 at 8:14 pm |
Think of it this way, a normal person can only travel (if they are lucky) two times a year usually at most. While they are saving up vacation time or money to be able to travel to the exotic they live full time where they can exsist on a day to day basis. Most of us in Colorado had a choice to live elsewhere, yet we were drawn to Colorado for our own reasons. We knew we could live here full time and be fullfilled. I agree that people do become routine, stagnet, and bored (all things you hate
) but even then change comes, eventually you awake from the haze and growth happens. New things abound, or you see old things with new eyes. It might take more time then we like but you are correct it is the everyday enjoyments that are usually smaller then the big things and perhaps don’t seem as exotic that sustain life. Such as reading a friends blog and sharing your inner thoughts. Enjoy being in your own backyard.
April 25, 2009 at 10:10 pm |
Thanks for the comment.
I don’t know anyone who doesn’t hate boredom. And all of us are bored sooner or later. Granted, some are more patient than others. And they are the ones who content themselves in waiting for something to happen, or for their plans to come together. Still others are restless, with no time to make plans, and they search constantly for new entertainments. Neither way is right, nor is either way wrong.
However, those who wait and those who rush, are equally blind to the present. They are so consumed in imagining a future in which they will possess something better, that they forget what they already have. Then they grow bored. They see the world through jaundiced eyes, and they hear the ticking of the clock. It seems to speak to them a language of unfulfilled promises. They are plagued by what they wish would come faster: something different, a break in the monotony.
Time is our greatest wealth. With it, we are all born rich. It is a universal currency, accepted everywhere. It is recession-proof, and backed by the stablest reserves. Yet, when it is gone, it is gone forever.
With such a precious and non-renewable resource in our possession, why do we spend it so carelessly? We could be thankful for what we have, and remind ourselves everyday just how lucky we are even to be alive. We could notice the “small” things, and still say they are “big deals”. Instead, we squander our time, and imagine tomorrow, or the next day, or the next. We deposit our earnings until none is left to spend; then we scold ourselves for all the things we missed when we were too busy imagining the future. And what is the future if not just another present? A series of presents? We set our sights on the unknown, only to arrive and wish we hadn’t hurried.
Really, isn’t that the reason people become more nostalgic the older they get?
April 29, 2009 at 4:10 am |
I do take my surroundings for granted, and that is a shame. I glance out the sunroom window and see the flatirons, and just blow it off. Not consciously, but because there is always something else on my mind. It reminds me of a book I never read but wanted to. When I am an old woman I will wear purple. I think it about making a choice to do the things you want to do and enjoy them. I will make the effort to look out the window and enjoy the view.