Wow! There is a lot of you in that poem. It’s not just a movement but an entire subconscious.
I loved these lines:
“To plant words like fences
and sleep behind their edges”
…and they guarded me.
The process of weeding is an emptying of sorts until you realise that emptiness is not voiding. It is the ability to live with all that you have inside and around you. To accept it and then to let them be!
A beautiful metaphor.
I would love for you to develop this further. There is so much depth in that.
Thank you, Sudipto. I so love this reflection. You’re right, there was a lot of me in this one. I didn’t quite realize how much until after it was written. The image of the fences came up almost immediately, and only later did I see how much the weeding revealed.
I love your perspective on weeding as a form of emptying. Yes! And the realization that emptiness isn’t absence, but presence without grasping. That feels so accurate. The work is never really done, and maybe that’s the point. The weeds return, and so do we. The fact that it never ends can feel like futility or grace, depending on where we’re standing.
“Garden” as metaphor keeps showing up for me lately. Maybe it’s because I’ve been spending more time in ours, but also, I suspect, because they’re teaching me something about rhythm, care, and the slow unlearning of control. I think there’s more here for me to write, but I’m not sure what it is yet. Thank you for encouraging that.
I understand this feeling with the own voice. I do have the best excuse to stay away from it – no native speaker ☺️. With your greatly artuculated voice, I could switch to laid-back mode.
I'm getting better being more intuitional again. Yet, there's a path to walk for me with patience.
Thank you, Marisa. I am so glad to hear that line landed. It’s still one I’m working to overcome… the analytical vs the intuitional.
And thank you for the note about the recording. While that has become part of my process, and I’m slowly getting used to the sound of my own voice from outside my head, it still sounds strange to me. 😊
Wow! There is a lot of you in that poem. It’s not just a movement but an entire subconscious.
I loved these lines:
“To plant words like fences
and sleep behind their edges”
…and they guarded me.
The process of weeding is an emptying of sorts until you realise that emptiness is not voiding. It is the ability to live with all that you have inside and around you. To accept it and then to let them be!
A beautiful metaphor.
I would love for you to develop this further. There is so much depth in that.
Thank you, Sudipto. I so love this reflection. You’re right, there was a lot of me in this one. I didn’t quite realize how much until after it was written. The image of the fences came up almost immediately, and only later did I see how much the weeding revealed.
I love your perspective on weeding as a form of emptying. Yes! And the realization that emptiness isn’t absence, but presence without grasping. That feels so accurate. The work is never really done, and maybe that’s the point. The weeds return, and so do we. The fact that it never ends can feel like futility or grace, depending on where we’re standing.
“Garden” as metaphor keeps showing up for me lately. Maybe it’s because I’ve been spending more time in ours, but also, I suspect, because they’re teaching me something about rhythm, care, and the slow unlearning of control. I think there’s more here for me to write, but I’m not sure what it is yet. Thank you for encouraging that.
“presence without grasping” Yes!
Yes, I liked the same lines. And the metaphor of weeding, on so many levels.
I understand this feeling with the own voice. I do have the best excuse to stay away from it – no native speaker ☺️. With your greatly artuculated voice, I could switch to laid-back mode.
I'm getting better being more intuitional again. Yet, there's a path to walk for me with patience.
Patience is such an underrated virtue 😊
Glen, this is wonderful! 🌟 & I appreciate it so much, you took the time to record it. 🙏
A real human voice 😃. I picked this 'puzzle' piece:
"I trusted the buzz of my thought
more than the sound
of my own breath."
Thank you, Marisa. I am so glad to hear that line landed. It’s still one I’m working to overcome… the analytical vs the intuitional.
And thank you for the note about the recording. While that has become part of my process, and I’m slowly getting used to the sound of my own voice from outside my head, it still sounds strange to me. 😊