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Tag Archives: Susan Auld

Radishes

As we get older, what seemed mundane and work-like in youth holds different meaning for us. I think of this as maturing. My mother told us to go get radishes out of the garden and a variety of other vegetables such as carrots, peas, beans, etc.

What seemed unimportant and even beneath the ordinary gains fresh meaning. It is not only the vegetables, fruits, and flowers that were fresh. Their meaning becomes fresh. Sometimes, the chores were precursors to something more enjoyable. After shelling peas, we biked to the Peace River and rode down hill at break-neck speed.

Susan Auld’s poem brought up the memories of living at a time where box stores were not just a short ride away in the car. We depended on the produce picked from the garden, fresh eggs from a local farmer, and sometimes fresh poultry raised in a makeshift coop in the backyard. We enjoyed Nature’s abundance and freshness. Today, the memories are fresh as they take on new meaning.

Pull up some radishes for dinner, my mother said.

They grow next to the house under your bedroom window.

 Afraid I’d pull up something other than a radish

I enlisted a sister, a brother

and we knelt in the dirt

under the screened window

 looking

 at what we thought

to be a radish.

 Its leaves so new so green

our hands so hesitant   so unsure

 we reached and pulled—

Earth clung

to our fingers

to the fleshy roots

quivering in the summer sun

 we pulled up radish after radish for dinner

handing them, a bouquet, to our mother.

She no longer cares for radishes.

My sister, brother and I tend our own gardens.

But, I wish everyday

to kneel again

under that window

feeling new and green

hesitant and unsure.

Practicing the Art of Zen

Susan Auld wrote this informative poem about life’s busyness in the digital age. Time challenges me daily and it is hard to keep pace and leave comments that are deep enough to celebrate the wonderful blogs I follow.

I try living in the moment as the poem suggests. This is a great challenge, but the idea is meditation is the practice we need for life to be lived fully. It is in life that we need to be present. As I rise from the meditation, I hope to do so with a clearer mind and catch a glimpse, now and then, of the rose opening. Even an occasional glimpse rewards me with the universe’s miracles.

 

how can I be in the present

when I need two hands to twitter and tweet

when world events are everywhere all the time

above   below   under   inside   outside

slithering through

ear buds   flat screens   cell phones

and I miss the exact second the rose

opens its red lips or the dramatic entrance

of the lilac’s perfume as it catches a ride

on the back of a spring breeze

and floats through my open window

how can I listen   to my breath

move    in   move   out   move   in   move out

through the rumbles of cement trucks

bells and whistles of garbage trucks

siren songs   ring tones   doorbells

computer music and twitches

how can I possibly be

in the moment

when the world is so

in my face

in my ears

in my rooms

in my yard

swallowing this

moment and

the next and next and next…

how in this world do I let go

of all the cacophonous chaos

practice     practice    practice

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