There is the orderliness of the city
So sharp and well defined
With a brash intensity that leaves you feeling raw
Only half a self
And there is the randomness of nature
So soft and seemingly chaotic
With a silent stillness that leaves you at peace
Whole and complete
Where are you meant to be?
Listen to the rain.
Inspired by Rain and the Rhinoceros by Thomas Merton
With a thank you to Deb Black for the introduction.
Nobody started it, nobody is going to stop it. It will talk as long as it wants, this rain. As long as it talks, I am going to listen. ~ Thomas Merton.
Thanks for stopping in.
New Hampshire Garden Solutions 
Alan, I wasn’t certain if I properly sent that comment to you as I did not notice a reply, so to see your post this week was such a delight! And of course, to then see that you recognized me…how very kind! On another note, I noticed this reply you sent to someone last week: “I don’t think people know how much baggage you have to carry around if you are to accurately identify plants, fungi and lichens. You have to retain an incredible amount of information and know what to look for on nearly everything you see. A big part of my taking a break from blogging was so I could stop this, and shed all the memories that I’d had to carry around for so long. Spending 3 months walking through the woods without having to identify anything seems to have freed me. All of the memories of what to look for on this or that plant are still there but I no longer need to cling to them, and there is a great sense of freedom in that.” That is something I can relate to, one could call it “mental hoarding”. I have gotten to the place where I see something I have identified, and am satisfied to simply know that it has been cataloged. I am able to let it go and still enjoy finding something new. Of course, easy for me, I am not a blogger! I am now asking myself to leave the camera at home, wanting to be able to see something just for the mere sake of it’s beauty, no need to capture it’s image. A poet recently stated that her child became frustrated with her never ending quest to carve each moment of life into words and said “Mom, life is not just poetry!!”
Hi Deb,
I’m working again so sometimes it takes me a while to get back to people.
I also, during those three months, left the camera at home but I did have a cell phone and still found myself taking photos. It’s a hard habit to break, probably because I find it so enjoyable.
Blogging is fun but if you’re a nature blogger you quickly find that people rely on you to give them accurate information on plants (and just about everything else), so there’s a lot of pressure to perform. That’s something I don’t find at all enjoyable and I won’t miss it. Plants don’t come with names. It is we who impose the name on the plant and then worry if we’ve gotten it correct.
That poet should listen to her child. They are wise beyond their years!
I rather enjoy listening to the rain. Good thing right about now. Thanks for the reminder.
I just hope you aren’t getting too much. I’ve been watching your news stations and reading your newspapers and they did mention flooding in your area, but somehow I didn’t think it would have much of an impact on you. I hope I was right!
You were right. There has been some pretty bad flooding in the low lying areas, but we live up in the hills a bit and not near any hillside that could slide. Actually it’s the wind that concerns us, but so far so good.
I hope it all winds down soon. And I also hope all the reservoirs are full again.
Well played my friend. I remember singing along with that song on the radio, as if I knew anything about lost love and broken hearts. I must have been all of 10 years old.
I still hear it on oldies stations. What an incredible amount of music we had coming at us when we were young.
Yes indeed, from Chubby Checker, Jerry Lee Lewis, Wilson Pickett and Elvis to The Beatles, the British Invasion and on and on. I guess I think of it as the golden age of rock and roll. And I feel quite lucky to have grown up through those years. Also, I especially like that the guy in your YouTube clip switches back and forth with his guitars.
Yes, I’ve often thought that if I could go back and do it over I’d still choose this time period. I don’t think people who were older or younger can understand just how special it was.
I’ve never heard of the guitar player but I liked his twangy, too much treble guitar and the fact that the guitar was about all of it.
That is beautiful writing, Allen. I love a good rain, too. Thanks for the introduction to Thomas Merton. I looked him up.
Thank you Lavinia, I’m glad you liked it. Thomas Merton was one of a kind, I think. He did life his own way and didn’t care what anyone thought about it, so I think I connect with him on that level more than for any other reason. He was also very deep and very spiritual, of course. I’m glad you looked him up!
Thanks so much for this! I have been interested and intrigued by Thomas Merton since I read THE SEVEN STOREY MOUNTAIN in high school in the 60s. This was a beautiful and thoughtful post.
Thank you Linda. Thomas Merton didn’t come until later for me. I was busy learning about nature and civil disobedience from Thoreau in High school. I read his “New Seeds of Contemplation” a few months ago and enjoyed that but I haven’t read the Seven Storey Mountain yet, even though I have it. I’ll have to put it on the list!
Beautiful! I think I’m meant to be somewhere in between. I find immense pleasure, peace, and serenity in my little capsule of nature right in the city. I’ve learned to shut out the “brash intensity” and to only acknowledge the natural. Perhaps I’m learning to be “whole and complete” where I am? I love how your poem has made me realize that!
Thanks Ginny! Other than hitchhiking through Philadelphia and Baltimore in the 70s, my only experience of a city came when I lived in St. Petersburg, Florida. It was all streets laid out in a grid with 90 degree turns, and it was the loudest place I’ve ever been. Even at night helicopters with huge spotlights would fly overhead, helping to shred my nerves. I needed silence and I needed hills, so I came back home. For people born there it was probably a slice of heaven, but to me it was just never ending noise.
And when I was there it only rained at night and it came in the form of thunderstorms, which only added to the noise. The “St. Petersburg Sun” newspaper gave out free papers every time it rained during the day, and in six months I think I got two free papers.
I’d say if you live in a city and like it, and can enjoy the sound of rain and some bits of nature there, why live anywhere else? I was speaking more from personal experience than anything else, I think. I also think that you’re very “whole and complete” already!
How strange that you lived in St Pete. I was raised in Tampa. I’ve also lived Wash DC, Jacksonville, Atlanta, and NYC, all big cities, and I don’t know how to categorize Galveston TX. (it’s a vacation town like St. Pete).
Hagerstown MD, where I live now, is under 50k population, so I guess it’s a small city and I like it. The countryside is quite nearby.
You know what I mean about St. Pete then! I was there when the Sunshine Skyway Bridge was struck by the ship and fell into Tampa Bay. I remember being horrified when I saw the whole southbound span gone, because I used the bridge occasionally, if not regularly.
You’ve sure seen your share of big cities. I’m glad you’ve found a smaller one. It’s still twice the size of where I live but I’d bet you have plenty of quiet.
Yes!
Glad you liked it Eliza.
I *love* your rain poems. I hope you continue to be inspired to write poetry and share it with us, if you are so moved.
My favorite Japanese poem, composed by Emperor Fushimi (1265 – 1317) is about an obscure Buddhist concept that I find incomprehensible (don’t ask!), but I love it for its simplicity and the emotion it evokes in me.
To better hear
the rain that falls dripping
against the window
I turn my midnight lamp
to the wall
Thank you Georgette. I don’t really intend or plan to write things like this. They just happen, often when I wake up from a nap.
I’d guess that your very old poem means that you don’t need light to hear, and in fact the light from a lamp (candle?) might be distracting. If you were to meditate while listening to the rain you would want no distractions.
Of course I could be very wrong about it, but I can see myself turning lights off when I wanted to just sit and enjoy the sound of rain on the roof.
Fushimi wrote the poem to show that “the three teachings are not one, nor are they three.” So I just enjoy the poem for what it says, not for obscure philosophical concepts. The sound of rain and of wind are the two best sleep aids I know of.
Without knowing what the three teachings were about it’s hard to guess, but I’m sure he knew what he was talking about.
I agree with you about the sounds of wind and rain. Two of my favorites.
Lovely poem!
Thank you Susan.
Thank you!
You’re welcome.
A restful beautiful Zen like thought. However, in California, they may want earplugs.
Thanks Lynne. Yes, I have a friend in California and they’re seeing too much of a good thing by the sounds of it.
Lovely and so true!
Thanks!