Belle Richard

I am the sum of my parts, not the least of these being the people who have touched me in ways that have contributed to the aggregate that my being is today. It would take me a reborn Freud, the perfect loom, and several lifetimes — time that I don’t have — to thresh out all those separate contributions into a progression that might weave the story of my life better.

English is my second language. Sometimes, it is a friend, flowing smoothly, seamlessly. Other times, it is a foe. We wrestle a lot; the English language and I. Whenever you find me remarkably inexpressive here, know that those are the wrestling matches I have lost.

My… intellect, for lack of a simpler word, was neither whetted in the sharpest schools nor honed by the most enlightened teachers. My capacity to care was nurtured by people who knew Einstein and Edison more for their stubborn persistence than for their contributions to the human race, people who knew Buddha and Gibran more from the stories told about them, than for the clarity of their philosophies, people who chose to look at existence and death in terms of black and white. My knowledge is haphazard; portions of my grey matter are full, appalling gaps litter the rest. Whatever wisdom I have, have thus suffered and expanded, in direct proportion to my experiences.

Mine was, and is, a family inordinately close to music. What rhythm runs in my soul today is, in a very significant way, due to that singularity. I have not the discipline for metered verse, in any form, nor have I the ability to corner a thought into such traditional configurations. If I have some talent at self-expression, then it is, at most, a wild and a dangerously-erratic thing. What I do have, always have, is a predominant curiosity into human nature, and a belief that there are times when we, rushing to our business of getting up in the world, gain more when we do learn to listen; to the needs of our souls, to the unspoken questions in the eyes of those we love, and to the rhythms of a world that will always absorb our worst predations, and yet will never turn away our best.

What have we to teach to each other; what have we to learn? What insights, spoken or unspoken, do we bring to touching, every meeting, and at the threshold of every possible commitment; from ordinary friendship to the most intimate of relationships? What conundrums beg to be answered — to be addressed — at the perfect moment, and sometimes, never asked, never explored, at all? What questions pass us by, what answers? What people have we lost because we had never bothered to ask, never dared to ask? What friendships have we kept? What wisdom have we gained? Some of these, my soul explores here. If my delving verges on the emotional rather than the logical, then so be it. My life has been neither pedantic nor sedate, neither deliberate nor cold. I have ever been drawn to spontaneity; sudden warmth, the unplanned gesture, the random act of kindness, moves me best.

Consider these lines as opinions, mainly born of personal experience and incipient insight from quiet rivers. If your perspective differs, feel free to use the comment options. If your soul agrees, please do the same. Either way, be gentle. If you seek to grow, know that I seek the same thing. And while we can grow alone, we can also choose to grow together. Peace and love… to you and yours.