Last Dance with Uncle Oak This time, to honor the loss of another member of my ancient live oaks, I want to climb into the tree. Like I used to do 32 years ago, move, touch, feel – suspended in the air, resting on bark, sensations to be remembered. Perhaps documenting it? I ask around last minute, and find a good match in photographer Rebecca Weinstein to take stills of my last dance with old Uncle Oak. Once my naked feet touch the rough bark, a dynamic joy starts spreading through my body and limbs. The surprising urge to elongate myself within the safety of his sturdy arms. Next morning in a different light, I dress for another chance of closeness, envisioning my smallness to be captured. The freedom to grow into a tree, become tree , get an oak’s view, blend well, and disappear eventually. Uncle Oak, has been leaning for decades, growing northward horizontally, reaching far over into the neighbor’s yard. Now that Mama Oak has left, his malaise is more apparent...
Reading this article reminds me of your post from a couple weeks back about looking the woman in the street in the eye when she came over to ask you for help. There is so much looking away going on, so many [white] people avoiding reality. It also reminds me of how you are teaching me to come into center and to greet life directly, rather than hanging back on my heels. I see it in so-called intellectuals as much as anyone else, an inability to really be present with one another and confront the reality that we are living in. The process of coming into center feels so relevant now, and so important to caring for one another. -Aysha (that other anonymous comment you responded to was from someone else, not me!)
ReplyDeleteYeah, Aysha, when we see with the eyes of the heart and the eyes of the center we begin to fully and directly relate to life, others, and our existence, and wasting our precious time is not an option anymore. We start to CARE !!!
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