Knit one pearl two

“Make new friends but keep the old, one is silver but the other gold.” My parents taught me that round. We sang lots of rounds growing up.

What does the picture have to do with knitting? I knit the hat! I got to hike with old friends from the 1980s last week. They are old friends, not old! Well, we might be getting a little grey.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: knit.

Feeling our way

It’s nice to handle emotions with fantasy. “No it’s not,” you shout, “that’s horrid! We should think nice thoughts and feel nice feels!”

I do not agree. I think that we feel what we feel. Emotions are a rainbow and a sunny day and a huge storm and a tornado. Let them all through. However, we do not have to share them or inflict them on others or act them out in person. We can satisfy that anger, that grief, that hurt, that wound, with fantasy. And let the hurt heal through fantasy by acknowledging it.

There is tons of stuff on the internets/books/magazines about how we have to think nice thoughts, we are what we think, and on and on and on. But now wait a minute. Our Creator thinks up some really really horrible things which play out, right? The world has the full range of emotions from really really dark to beautiful and kind. I am like the world, like the ocean, like the Creator. I have the full range too. It is not the feeling that is evil. It is the acting it out in the world. If it’s acted out in fantasy, does that truly harm others?

Perhaps if it’s PTSD, there is harm. But PTSD is not acting out a fantasy, it’s being unable to deal with something terrible, terrible events, horror, war and violence. Those feelings must be dealt with too and it is no shame to need help, to need a listener, to need a safe place. The same with depression and anxiety: sometimes feelings are overwhelming and we are afraid, afraid, afraid. There is help.

I think that Jalāl ad-Dīn Muhammad Rūmī’s Guesthouse poem gives a path.

The Guesthouse

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

translation by Coleman Barks

_____________________________

I read this poem as being about our feelings. A meanness, a dark thought, malice. I think that there is a translation that says that we want each guest to take a good report back to the Beloved, so we must treat each with kindness and hospitality. When a friend dreams of a bear attacking his brother, I ask, “Did you invite the bear in?” “No,” he says, “It’s a bear! They are dangerous!” “But it’s a dream bear,” I say, “I would invite the bear in and listen to it.” “You don’t understand bears,” he says. “It is a dream bear, not a real bear. I always invite the dream monsters to talk to me.” Don’t you? There is a story about a dreamer who dreams about being chased by a monster, a horrible monster, over and over. He runs and runs. Finally he is sick of it and stops. “What do you want!” he shouts at the monster. “Oh, I am so glad you stopped. I was so scared and hoped that you would help me,” says the monster. And the man wakes up.

The giant fruit bat is part of the outdoor pollinator exhibit this holiday season at the US Botanical Gardens.

Growth

I am with eklastic: the Ragtag Daily Prompt has been an island of peace and friendship and joy over the last year.

The trunk is from the US Botanic Gardens: wisteria, I think. This is an example of complicated growth. Are we closer to peace and helping each other and is ChatGPT aiding world peace and harmony? Hmmm.

A creative use for a fence:

My parents had Lovin’ Spoonful albums. I had glasses by fourth grade and loved this song. I thought it was funny.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: looking back.

A place for everything

and everything in its place.

I consider putting up a picture of my travel pile. Right now it’s outside the bedroom at my aunt and uncle’s because my daughter is still asleep. But I am still back at the Glenstone Museum: this is an interesting artwork. Does it belong? The paths wind around and we climbed a hill to it.

It grows in the spring. It still has a bit of a winter beard.

I might still be on quirky.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: everything must belong somewhere.