Nov 7, 2007

i wish i could let myself rot well...

it is late autumn here in San Diego.

contrary to popular belief, there are seasons here. they are different. they don't look like Rhode Island or Ohio or even Northern California's seasons, but there are seasons. we've moved past early autumn--which is awfully ugly. it's as if the world can't make up its mind and is stuck in limbo. the sky is only half-overcast and it is a cold wind over a warm day. the fact that i commute makes it even worse.

but this is not early autumn. it is late autumn, when the chill sets in and San Diego loses any of its luster. it is hardly the tropical tourist getaway that travel agents have been selling it as for years. i have to wear a sweater lately and maybe even a beanie. the world is, in fact, dying. raking thousands of fig leaves out at Capt. Hirst's today, i saw spiders and beetles as well as moss and mold. and i didn't let them do their work. cleaning out the gutters, i would wipe away the top layer of drying leaves and get down to the bottom where the months that i have been away have led to the development of a rich humus: a deep black dirt that feels like airy coffee grounds and reminds me that life is beautiful and regenerative. and here it is for me! dirt in a rusting gutter is the reminder of what this world is to be.

circles in time, like the path
of a bumblebee flight,
bumbling bumbling and time doubles back.
i am where i was,
though the view is not the same.
it is peace to see the world again.

when i read over my last post, i realize that so much of my frustration with revolutions is in the fact that they don't accomplish anything. they just change the scenery. i want to live in a way that lives something new and old in each moment. held up by the hand of the Divine and transformed in the death of Jesus, i become a parable and a metaphor for Christ. this is good and whole. a hidden wholeness, the kind that is connected to all things in my own solitude.

autumn will come again. the decay will always be taking place. the humus will build and that rot is the most deeply beautiful thing in the world. and we humans--what of us? shall we let ourselves sink down deep into the earth where we belong? shall we let our own desires and convictions rot in order to foster new life? dare we do such a thing? dare we not?

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Interesting to know.