Pleasures & Pains, Traces of People

 

In this post, I present three photos, all taken today, with none of them featuring an actual person. The photos depict two different scenes: two are from the outside of an elementary school taken early this morning as I went for a run with my dog and the last from the parking lot of a supermarket taken around midday. And though they seem oddly paired -- incongruent, in fact -- the similarities and differences in the poetry of the moments that they presented were profound for me. 

 Let me explain:

These photos all reveal traces of people. So while the people, themselves, are not still there in the moment, they have left stories behind in each of them. More than that, they are, all of them, stories of people seeking things and experiencing things in life. That is their similarity. The difference then, is what the people in these photos sought out. For me, these photos reveal a juxtaposition of the poetry of pleasures and pains of life. Beginning with the two

photos of the school, look closely to see the traces of little snow boots; of lines of sleds. But take note, too, of how small the slope is -- no greater than a dozen stairs. As humble as the slope of the hill is and as short a distance the hill offers (truly, it's not more than 30 feet from top to bottom), it was a source of joy. People sought out this space and made it into a place of pleasure, not only creating little sledding trails but building snowmen and there was evidence, too, (not photographed) of a tremendous snowball fight (two opposing snow forts with feet prints stomped all around suggested a mighty duel!) Out of very little -- truly the most modest of hills -- pleasure was created. The energy -- of laughing, smiles, warmth even in the chill of the snow -- stayed long after the people who created it had gone home to warm up and sleep.

But then, there is this third photo. The parking lot photo. Where a broken syringe lay next to my car, discovered as I began to pack groceries away. The energies of this moment and of this person, also stayed to tell a story. And now, I admit immediately: I am naïve and inexperienced -- prudish, you might say (and utterly fainty around needles!) -- to know the difference between what might be a medically necessitated syringe (say, for diabetes) versus one for recreation. But whether this was authorized medication or illicit drugs, either is meant to take away pain. This story here in this photo, the poetry of this person, also lingers at the scene after they are gone from it. This person sought comfort from pain -- perhaps medical, perhaps mental. 

Here, then, is our world and the choices we have in front of us. Do we carry the strength within us to envision possibilities, to manifest experiences for and with the people we love? Do we make enjoyment and pleasure possible for ourselves, without asking for too much? Or are we hurting? Are there pains that we seek relief from?

Or, perhaps, it's a little of both for us all.