#11 Ripples I came upon the idea for this week’s musing while on a walk up the back road to the ski basin to catch some fall colors. The lower part of the road was completely destroyed because the little creek had overrun its banks during recent heavy rains, carving out a new 2 and ½ foot channel for itself. Hard to imagine there are still skeptics in terms of witnessing the climate changes that are seemingly everywhere in our collective faces. I guess their argument is that it exists, but is only part of a natural cycle, and little to do with the actions of humans. Although the word ripples immediately brings forth images of water, I found this rock brother photo to demonstrate them as well. Just a slower go in terms of forming them, and their motions over time. Got me cogitating the slower ripples of early influences in my life. Those early experiences that, with the passage of many years, have significantly impacted my life’s trajectory. As I’ve stated before in various podcasts, I was lucky enough to grow up in a front porch neighborhood, where everyone not only knew each other, but looked out for their neighbors in very positive ways. Screen time wasn’t even a concept, since it was the early days of TV, with no endless array of channels or streaming opportunities. Which meant most entertainment was either outside, or with other folks, like sharing a meal, playing cards, or making music together. Hiraeth is a Welsh word, one of those concepts that is hard to translate. It lies somewhere between homesickness and grief. Speaks to an intense longing for a person, a place, or a time that is absent or lost, and that you can’t get back to. Tinged with remorse, it somehow realizes that one’s notion of the “good old days” is a somewhat skewed perspective given the current crazy. I still feel the silent ripples of my early childhood days, especially the love and kindness from my family, and hopefully I have passed some of that energy on through my own actions in the world. I wonder what ripples you still feel from your early days?

When the end of times seem so near

And all that arises is fear

Is a junkyard dog’s growl just mean

Or, like humans, just caught between

The hard ripples of unkind time

Just survival to grab what’s mine

There’s always a choice to be kind

And cut those ancient ties that bind

Witter Bynner translation of Lao Tzu, Chapter 43 of the Tao Te Ching

As the soft yield of water cleaves obstinate stone, So to yield with life solves the insoluble: To yield, I have learned, is to come back again. But this unworded lesson, This easy example, Is lost upon men.