Composed a poem while lying awake during the night, but never rose up to record its rhythms and rhymes. With lyrics long and melodious, I took pleasure in the patterns of meter and measure.
Did it have no value because I never rose to record it (for posterity)? The words that flowed like a stream through my head as I lay on my bed....
If a poem falls in the night and nobody hears, did it exist?
Journal Note: Feb 9, 1997
There is probably a philosophical name for this kind of question. The difference between so-called experts and the rest of us is that they know the names of all these perspectives, have labelled the categories and pigeon-holed everything.
Wherein does meaning lie? The particulars are lost in the rumble of existence unless linked to other things in the greater whole. The problem of the one and the many is that when we ourselves feel isolated, we wonder if our lives have meaning, like the tree or the poem that no one heard. The reality is that we do have an interconnectedness to all things that is significant by virtue of our participation in the family of humankind. Our actions contribute to the history of this humanity, and reveal things about our human nature.
In actuality, because I never rose to record the poem cited in my journal note, it no longer exists. Ideas are the same. We have them and let them go, or we have them and record them. If it is unrecorded, it is eventually lost.
The act of rising in the night to get out of a comfortable bed to go put words on paper is a sacrifice. Without making sacrifices, things will go on as they were. If we wish to alter the future, to share more of ourselves with the as yet uncreated tomorrow, we will need to make sacrifices today.
What have you created in your mind that is now forgotten? Don't let it happen. Take the time to capture it. Let it enrich another. Let it bring greater light into our world.... and lightness.
Be well.
Did it have no value because I never rose to record it (for posterity)? The words that flowed like a stream through my head as I lay on my bed....
If a poem falls in the night and nobody hears, did it exist?
Journal Note: Feb 9, 1997
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| Bonsai Tree Forest |
Wherein does meaning lie? The particulars are lost in the rumble of existence unless linked to other things in the greater whole. The problem of the one and the many is that when we ourselves feel isolated, we wonder if our lives have meaning, like the tree or the poem that no one heard. The reality is that we do have an interconnectedness to all things that is significant by virtue of our participation in the family of humankind. Our actions contribute to the history of this humanity, and reveal things about our human nature.
In actuality, because I never rose to record the poem cited in my journal note, it no longer exists. Ideas are the same. We have them and let them go, or we have them and record them. If it is unrecorded, it is eventually lost.
The act of rising in the night to get out of a comfortable bed to go put words on paper is a sacrifice. Without making sacrifices, things will go on as they were. If we wish to alter the future, to share more of ourselves with the as yet uncreated tomorrow, we will need to make sacrifices today.
What have you created in your mind that is now forgotten? Don't let it happen. Take the time to capture it. Let it enrich another. Let it bring greater light into our world.... and lightness.
Be well.
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