Doug Bruns

Saturday, 8.9.2014

In The Examined Life, Wisdom on August 9, 2014 at 6:51 pm

The Maine air this evening (6:26pm) is easy and the light the color of honey. There is a wedding going on across the water and I can see the bride adorned in white and sporting tan shoulders and I think on what perfection it (I hope) must feel to be married on such an evening as this. Youth and marriage and an expectant future on a perfect Maine summer evening. Imagine!

I made blueberry jam this morning. That is what I do when the Maine blueberries come in. Two quarts berries yields nine pints. Nine pints of blue perfection to give to friends to spread on morning toast to pair with honey-roasted peanut butter between slices of rustic seeded whole wheat to paste on brie.

Can wisdom exist without tradition I wonder? It was the question that came to me on my morning walk. It was an early walk and the air like this evening was perfect except it was perfect morning rather than perfect evening air. Somewhere between the small hill and dead oak the question presented itself and I have wondered about it since. Wisdom I can’t see detached from tradition and yet I wish it was a thing singular if that makes any sense.

All that is esoteric enough for a night like this. Why spoil such a perfect moment with thinking? (Might a person just experience and appreciate a thing–enough already!)

Sometimes disjointed things come together and it seems that way this evening everything falling into a place and time.

I am sorry for the lack of commas. I just wanted to see what it felt like.

 

 

 

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  1. At the time of your post, you must have noticed the rainbow which briefly appeared in the sky as the Nova Star rounded the corner into the harbor. The traditional symbol of good fortune was greeting my 17 year-old grandson, aboard the ship, on his way home after 5 weeks of French-immersion camp in Nova Scotia. His family and I waved excitedly as he passed through customs and raced toward us as quickly as a young man who has been speaking French for the last five weeks could allow himself to race.

    I am not sure why I connect this experience with tradition and wisdom, but it seems relevant. The joy of the traditional welcome-home ceremony stirred in me the wisdom that this is the beginning of his foray into the world from which I am retreating. The full moon confirmed that all is as it should be.

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