Monday, November 1, 2010

tender reckonings

the sun pours
like melted butter
across the ash-grey of an early november sky


the sky
fragmented
somehow
knows to echo
my own
unformed sense
of what is next
or right
or even to be done



how is it
that i could reach this age
so unsure
so uncertain

and yet entirely aware
of all my strengths
and shortcomings

entirely aware
of the distinction
between the necessary
and unnecessary
ambitions
i used to confuse
with life


why is it
that despite
the landscape of my life
being laid bare
and finally
available in its entirety to me
for reflection
and consideration

admittedly
unfinished

i am unable to find the paintbrush
let alone the paints
the time
and the focus
to continue work
on the emerging painting
of the deepest purpose
of my existence


i cannot say that i am content
with viewing
the background
as if it
were the finished work

14 comments:

Lorenzo — Alchemist's Pillow said...

A wonderful reflection on the moments lived as you took in the story captured in these beautiful images, Steven. As a reader this piece makes me feel like a privileged eavesdropper on an intimate conversation between your eye and your heart.

willow said...

I love your reckonings, my friend.

Dan Gurney said...

I experience similar yearnings/contemplations. What to do now? What needs doing?

Being truly kind (which might not always appear on the surface as kindness) and being truly wise (which might not always appear on the surface as wisdom) have been my two most useful paintbrushes.

Linda Sue said...

Yummy sky shots! Your words , right to the core, BLAM! I think that time must be managed ,not so much to complete the painting ,but dabble every day in that painterly zone...otherwise, you would be an accountant, buttoned up- and your days would be wasted on orderly precise,exacting ...I would say you have succeeded quite well staying in the zone as much as you do given that you must be out in the world of this is this and that is that...You are an artist, after all.

Friko said...

You may not believe this, but this is the conversation I frequently have with myself.
I am older than you, I think, but I still have no answer.

steven said...

hi lorenzo - i'm at a place where i can see the intimacies of myself as well as the broad field of my existence. i get called regularly to follow a path, but the walls of a form of prescriptive existence get in the way. "if only....." is the cry. can i maintain my commitments while also honouring those calls and i just don't know. steven

steven said...

linda sue - you know then that this blog touches the skin of the purpose of my existence. it's a place that describes the beginning - if my being here were a story! steven

steven said...

dan - when so much opens up and offers perspective and insight, there's an almost palpable sense of duty to use that to bring more goodness into the world. the blog has done something of that, using my bicycle to better the lives of people i will never know has done more of that. but there's more and i can feel its tug but not the specifics. steven

steven said...

friko - i am fifty three years and three months old. then i am twelve and then i am much older. but it's not the years, as much as it's the use of all that has entered in that time. i feel compelled to move forward towards something much bigger but what it is i simply don;t know. i believe that it is necessary to place oneself in the way of possibility in order for possibility to become actuality. steven

steven said...

willow - in what way? how? steven

Butternut Squash said...

And if the work were finished, then what?

The joy is in the journey, in the endless possibilities and boundless beauty and you have the gift of finding and sharing it everyday. Thanks.

Reya Mellicker said...

Holy cow. You blow my mind.

Again.

Really Steven is there anything you don't get at an essential level? Wow!

steven said...

well butternut you and i know it's never finished! i'm wondring hot to approach the deepest part of my purpose in being here. i can fel it right there but i can't bring myself to let go entirely of the work i've more or less finished. steven

steven said...

hang onto your mind reya! the dance between surface and essence is constant for me but what to do about it? there's more, much more . . . today's hovering piece of music is part of the soundtrack for those questions and so much more. steven