you belong in the landscape

grief, gratitude, and cat indigestion in the time of the Lilacs

Below is my loosely-edited version of what Microsoft Word captured via dictation. Please consider listening to the audio or watching the video if you’re able; you may appreciate the spacious pauses and nuances of inflection that the written word cannot capture.

I’ll note that the written version corrects one mistake in my speech, which was referring to my train ride “to” Massachusetts when I meant my train ride away from Massachusetts.

Good morning

It is lilac season here in Massachusetts, and it may get very hot the next couple of days, so the lilacs that have blossomed may go brown and shriveled in short order,

so I'm super grateful that I was able to filch these beautiful lilacs from my beloved neighbors Laura and Chris

(If you're watching, Laura & Chris, thank you for always being willing to let me steal your lilacs)

When I was in Pennsylvania I thought that I might catch their lilac season before coming back for our lilacs to be opened

And somehow I didn't see a single lilac bush while I was in Pennsylvania,

which seems shocking and just impossible, but that is what happened

So you can only imagine my voracious appetite for burrowing my face into lilacs when I returned.

Lilac season is so brief and this is an area of the world where there are many of them,

So I know there are lots of people who love the lush, voluptuous, maybe even overbearing aroma of them

I know our cat loves them, because this morning when we accidentally left the bedroom door open, he apparently ate some of them. They did not agree with his belly. Turns out that Persian lilacs specifically are poisonous to cats, and they think one of the varietals in this vase is in fact a Persian lilac, so it did not work out well for the cat or for our carpet this morning that he had a literal appetite for lilacs…

And while I felt a combination of sympathy for his intestinal distress and sorrow for the loss of our carpet perfection,

It also had me thinking about how different objects, different beings have different impacts depending on one’s constitution, one’s species…

Also thinking about how there can be a huge difference between burrowing one's face and inhaling and actually eating, consuming…

It also has me thinking about what a gift it is to truly take in the ever-changing landscape of one's own particular life and vista.

I pulled my car over to stand by the river at a little park near us on Saturday,

and I looked at all the new green that has opened up and unfolded in the eight days I was gone from Massachusetts

I thought about how my train ride down [from] Massachusetts, I had noticed how quickly the landscape shifted from budding trees and blossoming trees to fully leafed-out trees, and I felt a little sorrow to miss any day of the process of Spring when things are shifting so rapidly

I imagine people with children of their own feel that way when they leave their child for a few days and come back

and there are already new skills and possibilities

new words or new secret jokes that have crept in during an absence

I wonder if God - or whatever name you like to give to the vastness, the mystery beyond our understanding –

I wonder if God looks at us in a way similar to the way I feel about lilac season:

Not wanting to miss it, greedy for it, so amazed by the intricacy:

What is it? Maybe 100 blossoms on a single stalk of lilacs… every single one of those tiny little stars that are also fragrant,

And of course, part of the glory is how briefly it lasts, the blossoming,

Part of the beauty is that the fragrance is here today and gone by next week,

And that's part of my beauty, that's part of your beauty, if you are human,

Is that it goes by so quickly,

There is a bitter to the sweet and an ache of grief at the constant loss, the constant change

And the only antidote I know to the grief is entering into it,

the only cure is a dose of the poison

Standing at the water's edge, the river that is constantly changing,

taking in the landscape that is changing even when it seems to be staying the same,

And also regarding oneself with some degree of honoring and amazement

The photograph I took by the river’s edge had me in it, too,

And I love landscapes as they are, but it felt right to capture my own wind-blown, precious self as part of the changing landscape.

I saw someone in Pennsylvania who said, “No offense, but you're going really gray,” and I thought, How could I possibly be offended by that? I love going gray,

And I remembered that for many aging is something to be feared or denied or scorned,

but I feel like I'm a marvel, just like the lilacs,

just like each human I take the time to encounter,

and I offer the same wish and prayer for you:

that you would let yourself be part of the beauteous landscape of your life

and enjoy whatever is blossoming or whatever is shriveling in your proximity

and if you have cat vomit to clean, may you see the humor in that even as you fully experience your own frustration or sadness

Blessings and cheers to lilac season