You do not have to be good.And I needed to hear that, because before I had read that Jeff Buckley said this:
You do not have to walk on your knees
For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
It’s part of maturity, to project upon your life goals and project upon your life realized dreams and a result that you want. It’s part of becoming whole … just like a childish game. It’s honest — it’s an honest game, because … you want your life to hold hope and possibility.Which was a little depressing at first, because it was kind of like Jeff was saying that dreams were just ‘childish games,’ [bummer!] but then after reading more of Mary’s geese:
It’s just that, when you get to the real meat of life, is that life has its own rhythm and you cannot impose your own structure upon it — you have to listen to what it tells you, and you have to listen to what your path tells you. It’s not earth that you move with a tractor — life is not like that. Life is more like earth that you learn about and plant seeds in… It’s something you have to have a relationship with in order to experience — you can’t mold it — you can’t control it…
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,I recast what Jeff said, in my head, you know, after reading that poem, and felt better about everything -- especially that last part about being more organic in one’s approach, which is what I do, anyway. [I once told a guy during a job interview for a position I did not get that I didn’t have any goals -- anathema to admit in job interviews, btw.] But I was really channeling Jeff Buckley, not that I knew it at the time -- by being more organic in my approach to life, I mean. I think Mary and Jeff -- and shoot, maybe even Ray Bradbury, would have understood that thing yesterday, about the trees, don’t you? I mean, they were quiet about it [unlike the geese], for sure, but they definitely ‘offered themselves up.’ Kind of like Socrates, too, eh?
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting —
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.
Although I am wondering, is an unexamined blog worth writing? Don’t answer that.
I know I'm acting a bit crazy / Strung out, a little bit hazy / Hand over heart, I'm praying / That I'm gonna make it out alive