On Achieving Spiritual Exile
In the background, golfers prowl the green at the Olympic Club,
stroke small white balls towards an elusive hole.
Vistas of San Francisco splay across the 48” screen
where talking heads move lips, spew words I cannot hear
I see an image
Early morning: scents of Tide and Bounce,
the churning, sloshing washer, and the touch of soft linen,
yield to the undulating voice of a professor
blathering theories of historical authenticity—
sounds emanating from my Bose,(a Teaching Company CD)
the image flashes
on the screen
of my imagination.
The girl-dog followed me into the garage
when I toted a bag of garbage and an empty cardboard box.
I closed the door, entombing her inside that darkness
and wondered why the boy-dog barked.
It took a while before I noticed she was missing.
I sense the presence,
a hand that stretches
out to my unknowing.
I walk the dogs before the heat of noon.
My cell phone rides in the back pocket of my jeans,
the Blue Tooth in my ear.
Necessary calls completed, leaving my hands free
for picking up their excrement.
(Forgot to check the level of the Truckee and the oriole nest).
I tell myself
to think about
Dishwasher beeping end of cycle,
turn up the volume, Tiger’s teeing off,
fold the clothes and make the bed,
don’t have the time to think
about that dream.
The ladder propped against the loft
(too high, too full of danger).
Strong hand that reaches down to me,
(familiar guide from long ago)
It’s safer here, well-trenched within the land of doing.
Find comfort in the work.
Security eschews change.
This is an older poem that I’m linking to a writing prompt I’m hosting over at Into the Bardo on stream-of-consciousness literature and poetry. Stop over and join in if you can.
You’ve captured how the mind works. Here, now there… Nicely done! 🙂
very nice…I am the same way sometiimes
Try to stop it as much as you can with the routine of everyday living, from time to time we become aware in those stealthy seconds streaming by, of a consciousness of a higher level. How much we resist it. May be we are scare we will lose ourselves , what we call our individuality ?/ Ego? Enjoyed reading this Victoria. And thanks for the prompt. I’ve linked something I wrote two years ago , which came in handy for this purpose.
smiles…i like having some mindless work to keep my hands moving while my brain is safely elsewhere…usually people watching…ha….i agree with jamie….brother lawrence has a great book called practicing the presence….
Thinking while doing while watching while listening – something a woman does all the time, but a man finds nigh on impossible. You have given us an entertaining paradigm in your s.o.c. poem.
I enjoyed this immensely, Victoria. A many-layered delight and reminds me of Brother Lawrence. Well done and thanks so much for “stream of consciousnes” as a theme this month. Such a rich technique to mine. Bravo!
It’s funny what we find comfort in…if housework I’d usually think nah… but as you say in just the doing and letting your mind wander there’s a certain calm and ritual…I’ve never thought of it like that before. I can so relate to locking pets in the garage have done that a few times myself. I very much enjoyed your stream of consciousness Victoria…I think it may well have changed my perspective on housework. 😉