Irony is never lost on me. So when Paul kindly handed me this award, I must confess I felt somewhat of a fraud. (Hey, it's National Poetry Month, people!)
Truth is, I haven't felt inspired for some time. Thus, I don't know how I could possibly inspire.
For a while, though, a long time actually—perhaps since I started this blog last June—I'd felt like I'd been traveling through magnificently aureate high altitude terrain. I'd barely had time to acclimate. I just went. When one is in the zone, so to speak, one does not worry about acclimatization. One goes. One climbs. One keeps their eye on the zone, its horizon and zenith.
But here's the thing, traveling to, or at, high altitudes can be quite dangerous. As it was when some years ago I was out skiing Arapahoe Basin, CO, whose summit—at over 13,000 feet above sea level—is one of the loftiest (as in vertical and noble) skiable mountains in the States. Oxygen thins. Pressure increases against vital organs. Even when you think your marching along just fine, acute sickness—that hard headache—stealthily sets off its missiles. There's no bomb shelter for this sort of thing.
(And no matter what they tell you, you cannot see beyond the horizon. You simply cannot. Not physically, anyway.)
One morning, not long ago, I woke up and I wasn't at the top of the mountain anymore. I was in a plateau. I was looking at the mountains. Out there. On the horizon. It wasn't particularly ugly where I was—level land with just a bit of leafy growth and little fauna. Though not much to keep my attention, except for snow-dripped tips dotting the mountain range. This isn't a manic-depressive thing. It's not bipolar. It's just where I was that day, and where I remained until, well, this morning.
But last week Paul (of Pfeiffer Pfilms and Meg Movies and a major pundit of all things Meg Ryan and Michelle Pfeiffer), who I've met only by way of blogosphere, sent me the Inspiration Award—which I pass along (acceptance of which is not required) to Cricket and Porcupine, and to Shopgirl, and to Leah, and to Tim (who I suspect is one of his students' favorites), and to David. All wonderful writers. All inspire. (Really, you All inspire. In one way or another. You All deserve a great big Inspiration Award. Take it from me. Literally.)
And then, yesterday, Sean (whose blog—had he one—I would happily follow. Sean?), who I've met only on few occasions, family gatherings, sent me this:
(Yes—it's National Poetry Month, people!)
And this morning, a carpool conversation about this weekend's school trip to Washington (my son leaves at 4:00am tomorrow) in which—in a rather circuitous way—the following was discussed:
- The lush golf courses of Palm Springs (only because I thought someone had mentioned Palm Desert, where I had, in fact, golfed);
- How one needs only a golf cart to get around Palm Springs or Palm Desert; and,
- Golf shirts as appropriate Spirit of Washington cruise attire for boys.
These types of coincidences happen often. I take note of them. It may seem a little kooky, but I don't believe that coincidence is just coincidence. I don't know what these coincidences necessarily mean, but I know a deeper meaning coincides within.
I don't have time to piece it all together, all of this babble above. Maybe you can help me out?
But I do know, I trust, that the World, indeed, conspires. Forging mind and matter, spirit and sensation, the World clears way for us all. It plots and schemes. The machination of all forces of life, animate and inanimate, in karmic swirls. Birds sing, fish leap from ponds, cicadas buzz on warm summer nights. Great works of art hang on white walls in museums. Musicians perform in the round. Shakespeare still appears in red velvet curtained theatres. Fiction continues to be composed. And poetry. Our voices, our words, are heard. The World awaits us with open arms and embraces us. It does.
So... Big cyber hugs to Paul and to Sean, to the kids in the car, to golf carts, and Across the Universe, where I know they will be felt. And I'll feel them back.
Sounds of laughter shades of life
are ringing through my open ears
exciting and inviting me
Limitless undying love which
shines around me like a million suns
It calls me on and on across the universe
Nothings gonna change my world.