Tuesday, October 02, 2012

World Within a World

My daughter and a friend walked in the woods this weekend. They discovered an old pile of discards from someone's housekeeping that was long ago discarded. This bottle looked like a terrarium with its fern growing inside. The metal cap was still on the bottle though it had a small rusted out hole in it. The fern had somehow reached inside the hole and started to grow. We left the bottle in the country but I have no illusions that the fern will survive now that it has been displaced from its original location.

I call the picture "World Within a World" and for some reason I am reminded about the story of the fish who doesn't know he is in water. I found an interesting commencement speech that started off with the telling of that story. Here is the link if you'd like to read it. Be forewarned, there is language that might be offensive. (Commencement address)

Along the same lines of some of his speech, I think about how we can see ourselves in that glass bottle world and think that is all there is to the world and we have no real clue how big the universe really is. We think we've got all the answers and seen all the possibilities but all we really know is our life inside the jar.

Here is another picture of the jar, this time taken with my camera phone. Notice the other two jars on the ground. They too had stuff growing in them.

Okay, so both these pictures are my submission to Gallery 23 (Withering Beauty) of the 52 Photos Project. I've gotten behind on visiting the links to the other participants and I've gotten behind on my regular blog reading. Sometimes it's impossible to catch up. Sometimes you have to let go of the idea of catching and just jump back in where you are. That's probably what I will try to do.

The next few months are going to be tough for me and for my family. I soon will have to go back to the doctor to do my yearly checkup to make sure the cancer is still gone. That is weighing on my mind, not in a terribly big way--just in that "oh, my, here I go again" way. And December 8th will make a year since my son died. Everything was all so new and fresh last year. We just got through the holidays the best we could. We were all pretty numb. This year we are more aware of the fact that the holidays are coming and we are missing a member of our family.

I've lately been reliving some of the moments from those days and freshly feeling the pains. I have not responded to any of the kind comments from the last three blog posts. I do appreciate every one of them.


  1. Beautiful! And yes to jumping right back in, Annie. I'm keeping you in my thoughts and prayers. Praying for positive news and holding onto your heart. xo

  2. Jump in when you can, Annie. It's always a treasure to stop by here and read your words. The "world within a world" may go with me to my site for a future post. Had the same experience once while visiting behind the scenes at the local aquarium.

  3. Jump in, jump out, repeat as needed. I'll be thinking about you a lot over these next few months.

    Holidays - who needs 'em?! ;)

    The image of that fern (didn't know that's what it was - cool!) is fantastic. And you are so right - we think we've conquered the world only because we've reduced it to something very, very small.

  4. Love this post and the pictures, and I'm here when/if you need anything. I can offer a shoulder, a hand, an ear, a heart... just any ol' part you need. Even a foot if you need 'motivating.' ;)

    Deep breaths.


  5. I've been thinking about this a lot lately, the idea that we never really see it all. We see what we know as our world and our space, and we don't really grasp what else is out there.

    I appreciate your perspective as you navigate this displacement.

    Love and hugs
    - beth

  6. I love your reflections about life in the bottle. They are spot on. I do like it in here, though. =) I feel your pain over the coming season. I wish I could tell you it won't be so bad, but I'd be lying. This will be my third Christmas without Paul, and my third birthday, and our third anniversary, all within a two-week period. It is still difficult to contemplate. In some ways, the first year was easier because of that numb feeling. You will go on, you will get through it, and there will be a lot of tears. When they come, imagine me giving you a hug of sharing grief.


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