If a tree falls in a forest, does it make a sound?
If a tree falls in the forest, and no one is around, does it make a sound?
I ask this for the most serious of reasons. I am enjoying the autumn; even though temperatures are cooling, my garden has been blooming wonderfully. I still have flowers of all hues and sizes, even if there are some bare patches. My saffron came and went without my harvesting any of it, but I delighted in the blue. My walks have been lovely in the cool air, the park is fun, my reading is interesting; I’ve gone to concerts and taken small trips.
But.
I have to admit that I had enjoyed these things far, far more when I shared them. It’s as if I have no flowers unless they are to give away. (I literally have a cabinet full of vases that I bought and planned to use.) The walks are fleeting, the events ephemeral if they are in my experience alone. I don’t understand why I can’t enjoy my solitude more—I do like being alone, but sharing my life with someone special was joyous beyond description.
(I’m reminded of last spring when I lamented to a mechanic friend that I was spending nearly a month’s pay to repair my car air conditioning because I now had a girlfriend. He asked me why I hadn’t ever repaired it for myself. It was a good question.)
I suppose I could make a case that seeing my daughter only every other weekend is not enough time to share the things I love. Teaching is getting more difficult, as the things I want to share are less valued by students and society. And I think it’s telling that when I was going through my happiest period, I felt no compulsion to go to social media to share my day, my feelings, my thoughts. Why do I post too many personal things here? (By “here” on social media, I mean Facebook, primarily. This blog is a new venture for me.) Is it to make it all more real? Is it to connect with people who might also enjoy my music, my alleged sense of humor, my worries, my bad poetry, my workaday triumphs and failures? Is it vanity? Is it exercise?
And it works the other way, too. No, I don’t like the political fighting online, but I have a friend whom I don’t see often—we’re very busy and we don’t live close to each other. And every so often, he posts the view from his front yard, and that simple glimpse is beautiful to me. Someone’s child is visiting, someone went ziplining, someone found a new restaurant, someone’s father passed—I’m with you in the only way I can be (and am probably better company, as well! 🙂 )
I regret so many things I post, yet I post. I am called to task often, yet I continue. I’ve taken breaks, but I come back. I wish I had recorded the past year to share with you the treasure I was living. And though it pains me (and you) sometimes, I hope you will understand if I vent here, laugh or cry here. This tree just wants to make a little noise.
September 2019