Moon, come down and
come alone. I have to tell you all
about Akechi’s wife. — Bashō
My husband and I will celebrate our 44th wedding anniversary this coming June. I think of all that passion at the beginning, rocking back and forth between joy and fear that it might suddenly prove ephemeral. But for those of us now long married, that tempest has been transformed into something more reliable. Rituals that are ordinary, daily, and subtle. So how beautiful and exquisite is this reflection by Bashō, the itinerant poet-monk of 17th century Japan, on the love between two people whose relationship is wide and deep — quietly full of intimate gestures.
"So worn out, not even sure I was on the right road, I forgot myself awhile, watching in weary amazement as his wife came and went, the two of them giving the impression of having long perfected some grave and complex dance known only to them, one of accord and the affection of two people moving hand-in-hand in the same direction, both possessed by desire while knowing themselves to be the source of that desire." Bashō, translated by Franz Wright.
Read the entire piece here at Poetry Foundation.
Art: Goyo Hashiguchi. 1920. "Woman in Blue"
Happy Anniversary. That is a wonderful quote. We celebrated 31 years back in May. It is interesting how relationships change and grow and mature over time, from those moments you describe where you hope and pray that this person you are so in love with might just up and find someone else or change their mind to a point where there is just so much trust and commitment. I remember being so relieved when we both said “I do”, that she was now my wife and I was her husband and I didn’t need to fear anymore that the fantasy would be shattered. We’ve been almost 7 years on our own again, without a child in the house (not counting childish dogs, of course) and it has been such a pleasure to settle into this time by ourselves. We were 3-years married when Tori was born. And now we love being back on our own and seeing where these new adventures take us.
I remember being of two minds… relieved that we were freed up to go and do whatever we wanted…and then when grandchildren came, it was a call to return to the tribe-mind! Being and active part of that…we lived in Tucson for 12 years, until one day we just upped and moved to Boulder to be involved in the life of our children again, and their children. We still have our own adventures — the hiking here in the mountains is thrilling and meeting up with a karate school for training at 9,000ft is literally breath-taking and fun. There’s talk of building a homestead farm, of getting sheep, and garden beds full of vegetables, helping with homeschooling…it’s crazy, but most pleasurable to contemplate, especially in this particularly painful and destructive time we are living in. Circling the wagons — I suppose. But, I taught my five year granddaughter how to weave on a simple cardboard loom I made for her and now she wants me to teach her everything about textile-making. It’s lovely as the grandchildren pull us forward into the future with them.
Yes, we are (im)patiently awaiting our first grandchild. My daughter had some health issues that are now doing better so I know that was holding them back, but we don’t push. When it happens, it will happen. I would be in agony right now if she had a little baby that I couldn’t snuggle because of C-19 fears, so it is a blessing in disguise at this point that we don’t have any.
Places like Arizona and New Mexico look beautiful, but I just couldn’t live in a place without all four defined seasons. Even KC is getting to be too far South, climate-wise, as we haven’t had a good snow-filled winter in a long time.
I totally understand that kind of concern! This reminds me of yesterday’s reading from 2 Kings 14-16A which offers hope for the future even when it seems impossible:
Later Elisha asked, “Can something be done for her?”
His servant Gehazi answered, “Yes!
She has no son, and her husband is getting on in years.”
Elisha said, “Call her.”
When the woman had been called and stood at the door,
Elisha promised, “This time next year
you will be fondling a baby son.”
I will add you and your family to my prayers this year.
As for where the best place to live? Ah…I have to say Boulder is pretty darn beautiful. And yes, I crave the seasons, the changes, the colors, the rain…all of which doesn’t happen in Tucson. But…I will be there for a few of the winter months (never thought I would be a snow bird!!) when it is gorgeous and cool in Tucson, and the sunsets spectacular. Plus, I miss good Mexican food! And my favorite bar and coffee shop!