Perhaps because we are in the process of moving (a process I hope will soon be completed), this poem by Norman MacCaig struck me when it arrived in my inbox this morning as Inward/Ourward’s daily reflection.
In this moving process, we’ve thrown or given away so many things, yet we still seem to have so much “stuff.” I read this poem, titled Small Boy and thought: perhaps my fingers are not unclenched enough.
He picked up a pebble
and threw it into the sea.
And another, and another.
He couldn’t stop.
He wasn’t trying to fill the sea.
He wasn’t trying to empty the beach.
He was just throwing away,
nothing else but.
Like a kitten playing
he was practicing for the future
when there’ll be so many things
he’ll want to throw away
if only his fingers will unclench
and let them go.