Wednesday, December 21, 2011

Taken By

A phrase was said the other day, reminding me how much I love the words, "taken with" or "taken by" ... as in, "He was quite taken by her" or, "She was taken with him."

There are many old phrases I adore, but those words have always caused a strange feeling inside me whenever I've heard them uttered. Maybe it's because I love the idea that a person can, indeed, be "taken" by something or someone; a moment, a touch, a kiss, a look. Maybe it's also the raw, genuine vulnerability implied by the notion that a part of you can be taken at all; that someone could have that affect on you, without even trying. And that, after it happens, you're not quite sure what has changed, only that something has indefinitely been altered inside you. It's almost a slight shifting feeling, a piece of you gone somehow ... whisked away by something or someone else. Perhaps that's why the words have always stirred something in me. Maybe that's why I've always gravitated toward them, just as I gravitate toward most things or people who move me, get inside me, ignite me somehow.

I suppose there is a slightly more doleful side to the notion of being "taken by" someone ... the idea that once you're taken with someone or something, you're never quite the same again. And it could very well be nothing more than a fleeting feeling you have that passes by as you move on to something else. Or, it could affect a deep part of you, causing you to lose yourself for a time being.

I also came across this quote the other day: "A Christmas candle is a lovely thing; It makes no noise at all, But softly gives itself away." ~ Eva Logue

For me, in the times I've experienced this "taken" feeling, I've felt as though I'm a flower of some sort, a rose perhaps, leaving soft petals the color of warmth at the feet of the things and people I've been "taken by" over the years. Or, like the above quote, perhaps a burnished candle, giving off warmth while softly melting away.

It's not a bad feeling, though I suppose as the years continue to pass by, there will be some moments of forlorn in the looking back. But in general, I like the idea and feeling of "being taken," whether by a moment, a person, a glimpse, a scent ... life. And I'd rather be taken by it all, quietly giving myself away, than remain a rose caged by untouchable glass; a white, wax coated wick --

That is never lit.


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