My life is made rich by the "old days" and the "now days". I embrace them both as they swirl, blend and intertwine. They cannot be separated. What came first, what comes now will all be a part of who I am future. Some things I have control over, most I do not. I can make clear my intention and point myself towards the light path and then I trust.
So here's the contest blog readers. Listen to Simple Man in my previous posts, Old Days and Now Days. Leave your comment on this post. You can simply vote on your favorite or you can share commentary on the value of old and now in your life. A sentence will do and an essay is not too much.
Every comment will receive something from me "snail mail". One will be selected for a grand prize. Something from my old days and something from my now days. I can guarantee it will be a cool little package!
(Note to Amy D: The "uncles" were young once. Do you love how David comes in at the end of Graham's song in that leather fringed up jacket?)
Two stars, one light
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13 comments:
oooh! am I first!?
have never actually listened to bon iver... but I prefer graham.
value of old and new: the intermingling creates self. old is always seen with new eyes, and new has on old glasses. cannot be separated, and thus enrich each other for a whole life.
definitely bon iver. i've got a little crush these days.
+++
the old:
cleveland street with my little sisers.
the new:
studebaker street with babes of my own.
love, lindsay
wow- i love alisha's words.
Graham Nash for sure.
I married my simple man 23 yrs. ago. I love him differently Now Days than in Old Days.
More...
My simple man still holds my heart.
I am blessed.
I think about this often, looking at pictures and remembering the past. I love Kim's comment. I always used to hear people say how love "changes" and becomes "different" over time, and thought that was code for "becomes boring." I was so wrong. The babies, the mess, the exhaustion: It all gets sweeter and sweeter as I get older. I wouldn't go back, not even to undo the things I did so stupidly, because the old has carried me towards the new, like water. Made ME new. As I hope I am still becoming, hour by month by year.
Bon Iver. But it was close.
The old and the new. It is all the same, happening then, happening now, happening in the future. I often think of my trials and triumphs - the ones that I have had and the ones that are coming - and I wonder how many of my ancestral women had the same ones? How many of them experienced the same anguish, the same exhileration? I feel them, always touching my life, unseen. These women are my angels and I know they pioneered paths for me, paths that they help lead me to when I am listening.
Probably not what you were looking for, but that is what came to my mind today.
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p.s. I got your wonderful message and I will be calling you in a little bit.
I really LOVE love bon iver so i pick them, but I do think graham sang it better cuz he was easier to hear.
Graham--nice.
I worked in a small café the winter that my husband left. One particular song seemed to find its way into the CD player every shift. It would sing, “ . . . there is history in our history . . . “ Mmmmmmm . . .
There are precious pieces of my history that I keep hidden in a box, wrapped in tissue, and tucked behind the trousers in the closet of my soul. I pull out the box periodically and gently unwrap them, cradle them in my hands and press them to my lips, eyes closed, breathing in their sacredness.
As a child I would sneak into my grandmother’s drawers and wonder at the things that were hidden under her stockings and handkerchiefs. They were merely objects to me then, but the mystery of their sacredness to her intrigues me now.
I wonder if I were to die and this closet of my soul opened and cleaned out, if my treasures might find themselves on the lawn in a box of stuff for sale for a dime, or thrown out quickly with an embarrassed blush to hide from the family. Or, might someone hold them and wonder at the mystery of the making of this woman.
I wonder myself at the making of this woman . . . me. Wasn’t it just yesterday that providence took me by one hand and hell took me by the other—as hell does not follow far behind the steps of Heaven, mimicking, threatening, and gnashing as it goes. Wasn’t I the thief that had stolen the Bishop’s silver, and found myself gripped between justice and mercy at his door? And somehow, my soul was purchased for a new life. As Victor Hugo says of Jean Val Jean, “It was more than a transformation—it was a transfiguration.”
In the now moments we are so unaware of the threads of experience that wrap themselves around us, thread by thread by thread. Until one day, we realize that we have become something entirely new, without even knowing it.
I wonder if the caterpillar knows quite the path of her life? To her, she is a caterpillar, eating, and sleeping, and crawling, and eating and, . . . spinning, and spinning, and spinning, and then . . . silence. She was just a caterpillar dong caterpillar things. Then one day, her cocoon opened and she stepped out onto different feet, she saw with different eyes, flexed a different body, and gracious mercy—wings!
Maybe this is often the way of our own transfigurations. We just go about doing the things we must do, the things our hearts call us to do. And then one day, we realize that we see differently, we feel differently. How long it has been that way we cannot tell. Yet the breeze is different against our bodies and, as if it had always been so, our wings catch hold and we fly!
It is now many years since the “old days” began. And here I stand in the “now days.” And how I love that I have been assigned a portion of the Lord’s vineyard that has nothing to do with pruning, and dunging, and watering, and weeding. I am the tender of the butterflies. Except . . . they do not know what they are . . . yet.
of course I pick graham nash (pre-veneers and blow dryer)...and yes, i love when david strolls in. i love that guy. would marry him...and stuff.
the old experiences shape us into the new. unfortunate as it seems at the time. i love old and new...circles and cycles....
ps - hi fifi....where are you?
I enjoy the sound of Iver & the clarity of Graham.
I love the kaleidoscope of memories that old blesses me with. I often think what color(s) has my day (now) been today? Have I loved & lived? Have I created something colorful & good? If I was a part of someone else’s ‘now’ did I add beauty to their own kaleidoscope? How we spend our days is after all how we live our lives & I wish to live it good. So often old reflects truth back to me, allowing the now in my life to take shape & create understanding.
One of the best questions I have been asked is, “What is being?” Which I believe has much to do with my ‘now’. Each day I get closer to an answer.
Graham Nash . . .I like that it's just him and the piano, it's fitting.
In the old days I knew no stress. I LOVED and LIVED without trying very hard. I knew only of my little world and my little family. I would WAKE and WONDER what kind of fun I would have that day. I participated in family life not knowing the part they would play in the future me. I PLAYED by day and SLEPT by night. It was simple. My room, my cats, my world.
In the now days I SEARCH for peace, love, and contentment. I PLAY. I ENJOY. I yearn for a better world and a better me. I can SEE more clearly the reason for the path less traveled and find strength in personal victories. My world is not my own, but is my God's. I now know how much he loves me.
I'm probably much too late for the contest, but I still wanted to share.
My little Graham is named after Graham Nash(in my heart + mind anyway),as sort of a tribute to the freedom/music/memories/feelings of the old days. My life, emotions, and body have changed so drastically so quickly, that I have spent the past 4ish years searching for who I was/am/want to be. Graham's sweet birth put me on the path to finding my authentic self, honoring the old days and living in the new days.
xoxoxo
Beautiful, Rachel. I feel so much the same. Thank you for articulating it.
Jodie
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