I wrote a little poem for you today. I hope you enjoy it.
A Quiet, Boring Life
All I want is a quiet, boring life.
Free from harm and
free from strife.
A life like a monk, a hermit, or nun.
It looks slow,
But I am sure it is fun.
You see, the American Dream, it's not for me.
There's too much stuff,
and not enough free.
So I have been watching the green grass grow,
the crows fly,
and the falling snow.
Nothing much happens from day to day.
My boring life is what it is,
and I like it that way.
Give me a life that's peaceful, and quiet.
You can offer me more,
but I won't buy it.
Gregg and Linda,
ReplyDeleteI'm a long time reader, first time to comment. I love, love the poem. It hit close to home since my life right now is anything but quiet and boring. I'm caring for an elderly and slowly declining mom, her big house and life, working full time, etc. Just the logistics of managing her life and work and what energy might be left to tend to my own (few) needs can be overwhelming and exhausting. The idea of a quiet and boring life is a tiny light glimmering at the end of the tunnel and it keeps me going when I'm in the thick of things on a daily basis and I pray at the end of each day for this "quiet and boring (peaceful, serene, sane)" life. Also - just wanted you to know that I find your posts in general to be thought-provoking and entertaining. I enjoy dropping in a couple times a week for a mental break to see what you are saying. Sometimes I get to think hard about what you say and sometimes I just get to smile or chuckle about what you say. Both are valuable to me. Thank you for doing what you do here on your blog.
As I am the caregiver to Linda as she has gradually lost her physical function over the years, we know of what you speak. It is a very difficult thing to do, and most people in a place like Canada, where I live, will not do it. It takes a special commitment and strength of character to take on such a task, and most are not up to it. Given the state of things in the failing West, I can hardly blame them. They have made it hard enough these days just to care for one's self.
DeleteGood for you for taking on such a monumental task. Your mom must really appreciate what you are doing for her.
We love you for doing it, and your story gives us hope, and the strength to carry on and see this thing through.
Hi to your lucky mom who has a valuable and worthy daughter. If we aren't all here to help one another, then what, exactly, is it all about?
- Gregg and Linda
I apologize if I have misgendered you. You did not identify gender in your comment, and I assumed you were a woman. I should not have done so. We have a good friend who lived with, and cared for, his mom during her final years of life. So, your mom may have a loving son, not daughter, caring for her. Either way, it is a great thing to do for a parent.
Delete- Gregg
Not to worry Gregg - I am indeed the first-born, voluntarily unmarried, daughter to my mother and sister to other siblings. Thank you for your kind words. I knew you would know and understand the caring way.
DeleteYour poem is quieting and soothing, thank you. I've been reading about caring for yin energy and the spleen today (Traditional Chinese Medicine). I needed the reminder that it is not only good to stop, smell the roses, enjoy the rain, and do nothing on a daily basis — it is essential.
ReplyDeleteI find myself needing to regain balance. Compared to a typical 21st century person, my life is pretty calm. But I know we were made to work some, then relax and play the rest of the time (not the other way around). I need less doing and more being.
I've started watching a beautiful great horned owl named Athena and she's reminding me to simply be. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NUT3nZJWn64
Peace, Erin
Animals are great for learning how to be. We can't forget that we are animals, too, and have similar needs. Thanks for the link to Athena. Nice name, and an amazing bird.
DeleteI used to regularly visit a great horned owl in the wild when I lived on the prairies. She lived in a big, old cottonwood tree in the Old Man River valley that flows through my birthplace of Lethbridge, Alberta. They are fierce, though, and will defend their nests with lethal force.
- Gregg