Friday, December 20, 2013

Aging


  I am a lucky person: I have the privilege of working with seniors. My interaction with them inspired me to write this poem that was published by Gadfly Online today.
  Gadfly Online is an award winning publication that was pronounced "eccentric, odd and eclectic" by the Washington Post.
  Enjoy the read.

34 comments:

  1. "the mind molds its own spring

    through words and vivid images,"


    Nice line.

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    1. It certainly molds its own spring, Richard.
      Thank you.

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  2. It's funny how you just wake up one day and all of a sudden you notice "the shadows of the future" and the "wrinkles on my face". A lovely poem Julia and congrats on getting it published too.
    We should all try to embrace old age in a good way, especially since we have no choice in the matter and can't stay young forever. I must make sure I take flax seed oil next year to keep that worn out skin subtle and fresh.

    Seasonal greetings to you and all your family and I hope you enjoy the next couple of weeks.

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    1. Thanks for reading the poem.
      Articles that want to "make us look young forever" are revolting to me.
      Aging is beautiful and it should be accepted and embraced.

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  3. Hi Julia .. the elderly have so much to offer us and remind us of things .. the brain keeps us young at heart ... happy a Happy Christmas and then 2014 - cheers Hilary

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    1. They do, Hilary. I am thankful for having chosen this path.

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  4. Congratulations on getting it published - I'll go take a look.

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  5. Julia
    Congratulations my dear. You are a truely celebrated poet. Are women still called poetresses or is that incorrect now, too. Help me on this.... I think you wrote about Sylvia Plath and Bell Jar, etc? I knew a little about her but she committed suicide when she was so young that she didn't leave many stories. I just happened onto a movie about her and it was so interesting. (Maybe the name of the movie was Sylvia.... can't recall). I loved the black, white, grey color tones of the movie photography. When I see movies like that, it always opens up my imagination .... what became of her young kids, her husband who later published more of her work and then he too, died. (But after he chose his mistress over Sylvia, causing her suicide according to the movie.) There was also a stillness about the film that was in direct contrast to the rage in her mind.

    Also, would you help me with the last verse of your Aging poem, please. What is meant?
    In the spirit of it all. Manzanita

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    2. Hi Manzanita.
      It is interesting that you mention this because I came across one of her latest poetry collections just recently, which had been put together by her daughter, Frieda. In her prologue, Frieda states that when Sylvia committed suicide, they were trying to fix their marriage. She says that her father was supporting her financially and he visited her regularly to take care of the kids so that she could have time for herself. It is an interesting prologue. She also dared to publish the poems that Ted refused to make public.
      Regarding my last line... I don't like to intrude into people's imagination, but I will break my rule.
      " The entrails of the soul no longer need anything, a fraction of sky is enough to unravel the meaning of silence."
      It can evoke different interpretations and meanings. I think it has to do with the fact that as we age our inner world is richer because we have treasures of human experiences, more wisdom and we are more able to understand situations and people. As we age we can see things more clearly and we find more inner peace as a result of this.
      Thank you for reading my poem

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    3. Julia
      That bit of information about Sylvia P. is interesting. Movies rarely present the truth and I always wonder what is missing. So the little girl, Frieda, i alive and I wonder if she writes, since both of her parents were writers.
      Sorry..... I didn't mean to intrude on your rules but often, poetry is nebulous (for me) and although poetry brings out different meanings for different people, I like to know what the writer is thinking/feeling. I rarely read fiction but when I do, I always end up more interested in the author than I am in the story. It interests me "why" people write the way they do. Thank you for your answer. I think I was mostly wondering about the paintings......be it the real life or imagination concealed within.
      You say you work with the elderly so you must have the opportunity to observe them. I have actually studied my own
      aging process and it really wasn't at all, what I expected it to be. For instance, I always thought carrying a time piece was silly, even when I was involved with appointments. Now I have a wall clock in most rooms as a reminder "not to waste time." Time has become precious and I want to smell the roses in my own way.
      Also for my growing old, former education is totally unimportant. because by this time, the real education has been "life."
      It is a reflective poem and I enjoyed reading it.
      Enjoy your holidays.

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    4. Again, what an interesting comment, Manzanita.
      Yes, education is endless. It ends when we die. And time is so important...
      I do love to interact with seniors. I love to help them through their struggles and to listen to them. Sometimes I meet one-hundred year old people and just listening to them is fascinating.
      I think I love to work with seniors because I grew up with my grandmother. I was always very close to her and even though I am far away from her physically now, I dream of her often.
      Frieda is a poet and an artist, by the way.
      Thanks for this interesting conversation.

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    5. Manzanita, I kept meditating on this fraction of sky, the entrails of the soul and the idea of scouting the paintings...
      Even though the body is limited by physical ailments, the mind can still be agile. There is something boundless about the mind and the imagination. As Emily Dickinson said, "The Brain is wider than the sky."
      Scouting the paintings has to do with exploring memories. Some memories can be real; some memories can be imagined. Sometimes the mind cannot distinguish the real ones from the imagined ones. There are also blurred patches, and the imagination fills the gaps...

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    6. Julia
      I was raised by my grandmother, too, until I started school and then I had to live in town with my parents during the school months. But when summer approached, I was always back on the farm. All of my memories of my youth are with my grandmother or else they originated on the farm. We are both lucky to have had that experience with our grandmothers.

      Sure.... it makes perfect sense.....paintings of the mind. You explained it very well. Now, I often forget about the limitations of age. For example I used to be able to do flips and many years ago, I was thinking about that free feeling and I felt like I could still do them. I was probably in my late 40's at the time. Needless to say, I ended up on my back looking up. My mind was a glutton to even imagine I could still do one.

      It's sad to see old people in a vegetative state. A girlfriend of mine used to work at the Masonic Home and she insisted I go there with her and meet some of the 100 plus people. They had a great deal to offer in any conversation. I have noticed how delighted I feel when I remember something I had tucked away in a corner of my mind. I got a Christmas card from a girlfriend I've known since kindergarten. On the front was a picture of ice skates and she wrote, does this look familiar. I had forgotten how much time we had spent at the local ice rink and it was so much fun bringing back those moments again.
      Thanks for the good thoughts. Hope your Christmas Day will be a beautiful memory to relive when you are my age.

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    7. Yes, I know what you mean. One of the thousand reasons why I love to read is that books conjure up memories.
      Keeping our bodies and minds active is a treasure. It can really make a difference in the way we age.

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  6. A lovely poem on aging, Julia! I think it reflects a deep understanding of the physical and emotional aspects of the aging process. I especially love “archetypes and broken dreams, winters and autumns…through words and vivid images, the dance of the years shaping the meaning of them.” Just beautiful and I could envision a person dancing through the years of his or her life. Love the picture you chose here too. Congrats on getting another one of your wonderful poems published!

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    1. Thank you for your encouraging feedback, my friend.
      I am glad to know you enjoyed it.

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  7. Hi Julia,

    Such a thoughtful poem. Indeed, again can be a celebration and not a foreboding sense of things to come. "The shadows of the future", can be hopeful shadows that reveal the positive glow beyond. Lines on the face, a map of where I've been and where I am right now.

    Profound thoughts on ageing, Julia. I know that my inner child never grows old. It reflects out beyond the lines on my face.

    In kindness,

    Gary

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    1. Yes, Gary, the more I age the more I embrace and celebrate my inner child. I love the metaphors you used: the glow beyond the shadows, the map on the face.
      Those shadows are meaningful to me and so I love to glide through them without restraints, because I don't want anybody to suppress that part of me.

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  8. Happy Christmas!
    Thank you for all your visits! Always very appreciated :-)

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    1. Same here, Angelika.
      I look forward to your pictures.

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  9. Wow. Lovely poem, Julia. So lyrical and flowing and replete with wonderful images. Congrats on having it published.

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    1. Thank you for reading it, Elizabeth. I appreciate your feedback.
      Merry Christmas. I hope 2014 will be a remarkable year for you and I look forward to our interactions.

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  10. Have a terrific holiday season!!

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    1. Merry Christmas and happy New Year, JJ.

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  11. Nice. congratulations on your big accomplishments.

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    1. Thank you, Lady Lilith. Merry Christmas.

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  12. Hi Julia - thanks for coming by for the 50 States of Prayer postings ...

    Blessings to you - and enjoy the festive times ... we have to be hopeful don't we .. with thoughts - Hilary

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    1. We have to be hopeful, Hilary.
      Thank you for your blog visit, dear.
      Merry Christmas.

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  13. Happy Christmas, Julia. It's a lovely poem. Congratulations on having it published.

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    1. Thank you for reading it, Sharon.
      I'm glad you had the chance to read it.
      Merry Christmas... Let's hope 2014 will be a year of joy, peace and inspiration. I hope all your writing projects are going well.
      Stay well.

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I appreciate each and every comment. Thank you.