Great Trees

Here’s a quick thought that came and stayed with we while I took Caleb on a morning walk in the woods: We’re all neighbors.

Bear with me, because there’s an interesting twist here, I promise.

The thought is an amalgam of two things that have been on my mind lately – borders (because of the recent, controversial song of that name by MIA) and my Dad, whose death anniversary was yesterday.

The MIA song arises, according to her, out of a questioning of the borders that we create – as nations and as individuals. Why do they exist? What do they truly represent? What do they keep in and what do they keep out?

So there’s that.

And then there’s my Dad, who died 21 years ago yesterday. One of the things I notice, when I reflect on him, is how much my thoughts and feelings about him have evolved through those 21 years. My life experiences have profoundly affected my perspective and I know they will continue to. So, in some very real ways, my relationship with him has evolved and will continue to, as long as I’m alive.

Which brings me back to the idea of borders – and who we think of as our neighbors.

Obviously, the people who live nearby are my neighbors. But why have I created a border when it comes to neighbors? Why draw a line between the living and the dead?

So today I’m thinking that those who’ve gone before, those I carry in my heart, are my neighbors, too. Invisible … maybe secret, even, but neighbors nonetheless. I’ll not be running into them when I go to get the newspaper or run to the store … or when I walk in the woods.  Ah, but then again, who’s to say I won’t?

Enjoy this from Sweet Honey in the Rock … a gentle busting of borders.