String.
I saw a piece of string lying on the floor and for some reason, it just grabbed my attention. Aside from the nasty reminder that I really need to do some serious room cleaning, what did this piece of string tell me?
It reminded me of how all of us are bound to someone or something. That no matter how far we go, no matter how large the number of people we meet over time, there's always a piece of string that binds us to what we were or where we were before those major changes took place. It can be the place where we grew up, it can be family, it can be childhood friends, it can even be something as intangible as a memory.
Still, it's there. And whenever we're in trouble, or lonely, or just feeling lost and disconnected, all we need to do is grasp that piece of string and follow it. And it'll bring us back to that place in our minds where we feel safe. To those times when our worlds were more carefree. To when we were still whole.
Then again, that piece of string could just lead to more confusion, as this passage from a poem (whose author's name I forget) shows:
"Bind me or set me free
Or love me less or love me more
And play not with my liberty
Either take all, or all restore
Bind me, at least
Or set me free"
I have a weird knack for remembering random bits of poetry and whatnot. :-) Except for authors' names.
9 comments:
wow...now i have a lot to clean up in my house...but i don't think i have ever thought that deeply about my mess.
LOL! I shudder at the thought of what my craziness might come up with the next time I see dust motes floating in a shaft of sunlight.
It is funny the things that send our synapses firing isn't it?
An enjoyable posting. Thanks for the well wishes -- I am feeling better. Off to bed, it's after midnight here in the states.
Oh... the author of that poem is Sydney Godolphin.
Good luck with the room cleaning.
Hi Lizza,
If I could choose all my memories, I would let them all linger on good people... good things received & done... loves won... childhood days...
Words from an old 80's song whose title & singers I've now forgotten:
"I'd like to be a child again so many things to do... playground noise & colored toys... everything brand new."
Ah... as always, I love your posts.
Juancho
Lizza,
I join the others in saying I love your posts. This one in particular tugs at that little piece of string in my heart a little harder than the others. Have a great weekend.
I wish I had the mental capacity to look at life as deeply as you do. When I see string, I wonder where some aspect of my life that was being bound together has come apart. I also can't resist picking it up and wrapping it around my finger about a dozen times.
Have a great day.
Sony, yes, it's funny...sometimes in a haha sort of way, sometimes in a don't-come-near-me-you-crazy-thing sort of way. :-) And thanks for giving me the poet's name.
Juancho, thanks! Good memories are great ways to give yourself a hug now and then.
Photo, what a lovely, touching comment. Thank you.
Michael, thanks. We all think in strange ways sometimes. :-D The fun part is sharing these thoughts with others and finding that they can relate somehow...weirdness notwithstanding.
I just noticed that you added me to your link list. Thank you so much!!! I appreciate it and am adding you to mine now, well, ok as soon as I finish this comment.
;-)
It's hard to be detached... that's why deep down inside, we always remain the same regardless of how we've changed our exterior.
(deep in thought....)
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