Picture Windows to Your World

A reader recently posted a poem on one of my posts. Besides being extraordinarily touched by her honesty and writing, I felt as if she had offered me a window into her life. A picture window from a mountain cabin where I look out and can see forever.

Beyond this window is the path; beyond the path the trees; beyond the trees the meadow; beyond the meadow, a mountain; beyond that mountain, more mountains. As far as the eye could see there was more. It’s like that with our lives – all of us are so much more than what shows visibly. It’s hard to give grace for what’s hidden, yet it’s critical.

Blogging is like a picture window. When people read and comment, you offer me a picture window that gives me a view beyond my mind, home, and city. It stretches me to look out the window to where you live, play and think. It’s a window that challenges my thinking and my writing; a window that gives me another perspective, a different lens; a window that humbles and inspires.

So – thank you! For offering up a picture window to the world – your world. 

Blogger’s Note: Are you reading Communicating Across Boundaries for the first time? Feel free to browse earlier posts. Some of the most popular have been:

9 thoughts on “Picture Windows to Your World

  1. Good day Marilyn, the phD. lady wanted to express her thoughts by mixing them in a bowl,as if she is baking a cake.She jumped from one subject to another not letting the reader to understand her objective,Best regards Jalal Michael Sabbagh.

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  2. Hey Marilyn, I am posting the poem here again if that is alright. Also readers can see my new post at https://communicatingacrossboundariesblog.com/2012/06/01/so-many-stories-safety-and-success/ and http://creatingcalmwithinchaos.com/guest-blogger-kimberly-burnham-summer-series-may-25-2012-how-do-you-keep-yourself-safe/

    Chameleon Here in Time and Space

    A chameleon, changing, blending,
    rearranging letters: each lemon, camel eh
    on, heal con me, my reptilian
    brain keeping me safe, monitoring
    others doing, always scrutinizing,
    do I fit here? Are you my community?

    How do you put on a Jewish tallit?
    articulate a Mormon prayer? Just watch. Where
    do you put a garden party’s
    dirty paper plates? Saving plastic forks?
    Just watch. How do you buy
    a German subway ticket? Just watch.

    I imagined myself able
    to talk to anyone, anywhere.
    You and I have something in common.
    Did you live in Latin America as a child?
    Europe? Asia? Canada? Work in Italy?
    Germany? Hong Kong?
    I can talk to you.

    Do you eat meat? Are you vegan?
    Gluten-free? I can talk to you
    about Japanese food, my favorite raw
    vegan, San Francisco’s Cafe Gratitude,
    Thai food from Toronto’s Coco Peanut.

    “Canadian’s may not know who
    they are, but they know for sure
    they are not Americans.” But, I am
    both, a gringo, gaijin, illegal alien, foreigner,
    landed immigrant, EU resident, global
    nomad, third culture kid,
    with two passports, fluency
    in four languages, and so many more
    allegiances to the comfort of home.

    I am a lesbian. I have been
    straight, deep in the closet,
    out and proud, chanting,
    “I am here! I am queer! Get used to it!”
    and in awkward shameful moments,
    I have felt compelled by my reading
    of the environment to lie
    about my love for a woman.

    I can talk politics, democracy’s republic,
    parliamentary systems, a benign
    dictatorship, and healthcare in socialist countries.
    I can talk to you, the far socialist left
    and the red religious right. I can find
    the middle ground.

    Conversing about religion, I can
    understand the Mormon church
    of my childhood’s mysticism,
    Shinto shrines, the Buddhism of Japan,
    Thailand, Tibet, Judaism of secular Israelis
    and observant Jews, the beauty
    of the Baha’i Gardens in Haifa,
    an Islamic Sufi view of Turkey, Istanbul’s
    Blue Mosque, the Church of Jesus Christ
    of Latter-day Saints temple building
    near home in Connecticut.

    A religious eclectic, “What do I believe?”
    Why do I lean to the left? Views colored
    experience, spit on my shirt, treating soldiers
    injured in battle, seeing children,
    hungry and cold, I have known
    the joy of giving, sharing, being
    grateful for how lucky I am.
    And so, I can talk to anyone,
    except about who I am,
    really deep inside
    and where I am home.

    Not a pretender, an imposter, a fake,
    I am just many things. I have earned
    a living, collecting insects,
    saving drowning children,
    teaching English, massage therapy,
    integrative manual therapy,
    craniosacral therapy,
    and matrix energetics.

    Equally comfortable as an esoteric
    energy practitioner, neurology specialist
    and vision expert. Reinventing the face
    of neurodegenerative disorders:
    Parkinson’s and bigotry
    through the vulnerability
    of sharing my own story:
    faith and vision recovery.

    A treasure hunter, I am a writer
    of stories, published transformational
    author, photographer of onions,
    journalist, entrepreneur.

    Yes, I can be a cold blooded reptile,
    a chameleon and a warm, fuzzy
    teddy bear, still searching for my niche,
    while I live here in time and space,
    breathing home into my body.

    – From Live Like Someone Left The Gate Open by Kimberly Burnham

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      1. Lovely comment on this poem. I don’t think I realized when i began blogging the connections i would have the privilege to make. It is a gift.

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