I’m not the same person I was a year ago. Nor is my garden the same place it was a year ago. Some plants have died out, others have taken their place. The frogs in my pond come and go, everything gets caught up in the restless cycle of regeneration and change.
Many people tend to believe that life is made up of cycles, of the constant renewal of the seasons, night & day, the phases of the moon. And this is true; it’s a truth that manifests itself before our eyes.
But this month’s full moon is not the same as last month’s. Its light shines on a different landscape, the flowers bloom and then fade, the frogs lay their eggs and then get eaten by herons, and, on the level of particle science, everything moves a tiny bit further towards atrophy.
And I change as well. My body grows older, my creative urge grows stronger, my broken shoulder heals, my need for sleep grows, my past becomes less important and the present more so.
‘So?” some will challenge me, ‘When you die, you reincarnate, and the circle of life repeats itself.’ We don’t know that, and, frankly, I’m not interested. My life – this life – is a unique moment in time, and that’s all that matters.
Sometimes I no longer know what to write my blog about. It seems as though I’ve written all that asks to be written, and I could only repeat myself. Sometimes a theme suddenly pops up, crystal clear, and I can sit down and write.
So bear with me when I remain silent for weeks at a time, such as now. At some point, out of the blue, an idea might strike me, and I’ll burst into flower again. But it might be a totally different kind of writing than it was.