Stop and stand
A reflection on age and wisdom while hanging a friends washing
Up until this moment
we could always just run
laughing or scared, or both,
put on a brave face,
who was I trying to fool?
just cut and run
always though, only running into the future
towards the thing that scares us most
a vast uncharted place, mystery, darkness, fear
with no conscious understanding, we could safely assume it goes on forever in that direction
practically it does– the garden of youth has no boundaries
and we could run that way forever
never any need to stop and stand and reflect
maybe stop and pick up a friend who has tripped over the truth
but not me, I’m letting my legs carry me as fast as possible,
they seem to know the way, I haven’t given it much thought
but does this last?
Is this a sustainable approach?
there have always been parts of us telling us this truth
or asking this question
we see others who look as if they’ve paused or stopped,
it can be terrifying but fascinating, our deepest secret voyeurism, do I really want to ask?
an unspoken question? do I run or is it wise to stop and smell the flowers?
did we listen? did we drown it out?
or were they voices from another room,
make a mental note to listen in one day, but not now,
FOMO is running the show, keep running
but now I’m running out of runway
(let’s get this baby off the ground)
and the time I have left is beginning to smell precious
a sweet perfume asking me to slow down
to look down, at my feet, to ask them to stop,
to stop and stand
the running has allowed us to avoid looking too deeply
but that downward glance must become a sustained unblinking look into our own darkness
in that place we’ll find simplicity and truth
comfy chairs we can pull up together, take the weight off
and stare into eyes, and fires, and the future
I want to tell you how afraid I can feel
and the things I’ve done to ease the pain
I want to know you
take me into your story
Stop and stand,
with me,
hand in hand
