Sometimes a feeling of resonance arises in the stream of time, linking the present moment with some distant or nearby memory. This resonance may reflect my entire lifetime–as if a piece of music is playing–or a memory may grab onto the present moment, as if it alone exists. This morning a wide perspective opened up in which specific connections resonated with one another, the whole illuminating each facet.
June 24th,, today, is Saint Jean Baptiste Day. Years ago, on June 24, 1968, a fire raged through the apartment where I was living in Montreal, killing two people who were trapped inside. As a result, I had to move to a new apartment. That move, necessary because the apartment building was condemned, contrasts sharply with our current move to a townhouse. Instead of flames raging up a stairwell, forcing one resident to jump from a 4th story window, and another found curled under his bed, our current move is not physically necessary.
In a pensive mood this morning, wondering about the meaning of change, I checked to see if anyone had read one of my recent blog posts. Surprisingly, someone had clicked on an old one, from seven years ago: “Good Greens in the Field of Space”. So, I clicked on it myself.
I had shared a poem (“Good Greens”) that I had written and had published in the mid-1970’s while still living in Montreal. It contains imagery that conjures up how space is always all around in all its vivid presence.
Now, on further reflection, I would like to think that—when moving to a new place—new opportunities may arise for me to notice my surroundings in a fresh way. Perhaps I may even catch a few new passages in the grand composition that is always playing, whether I harken to its melodies or not: