I thought last month when the water pipe burst in the wall of my best friend’s apartment, soaking much of the the flooring, that she was one of the most unlucky persons I knew. The burst pipe was one in a long string of unfortunate events in her life. Her issues pale in comparison with another friend of mine who, since Easter, was diagnosed with thyroid cancer, had surgery that permanently damaged her vocal cords, and then got the terrible news that her only son, who she had placed for adoption forty years ago and reconnected with last year, had died of the Covid-19 virus. She writes that her life has turned out like a country western song full of bad luck and disaster. She has supportive family and friends, but how on earth do you get beyond these sorts of tragedies?
I don’t know why but I couldn’t help thinking about e e cummings poem, nobody loses all the time after hearing about my friends’ terrible luck.
It isn’t exactly a comforting poem, and I suppose it cold be construed as pretty irreverent, but I think it sums up a need to find hope in the darkest of times.
What gives you hope? Share some hopeful poetry.
I have been one of the committee to put together our UU online “Sunday Service” over these past weeks, and a lot of pretty neat poems have shown up there. Here is one:
Keeping Quiet
Pablo Neruda’s Ode to Silence
Now we will count to twelve
and we will all keep still.
For once on the face of the earth,
let’s not speak in any language;
let’s stop for one second,
and not move our arms so much.
It would be an exotic moment
without rush, without engines;
we would all be together
in a sudden strangeness.
Fisherman in the cold sea
would not harm whales
and the man gathering salt
would look at his hurt hands.
Those who prepare green wars,
wars with gas, wars with fire,
victories with no survivors,
would put on clean clothes
and walk about with their brothers
in the shade, doing nothing.
What I want should not be confused
with total inactivity.
Life is what it is about;
I want no truck with death.
If we were not so single-minded
about keeping our lives moving,
and for once could do nothing,
perhaps a huge silence
might interrupt this sadness
of never understanding ourselves
and of threatening ourselves with death.
Perhaps the earth can teach us
as when everything seems dead
and later proves to be alive.
Now I’ll count up to twelve
and you keep quiet and I will go.
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Lovely
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Happy Birthday, PJ!
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Thanks, Renee. I’m off to a very good start. Greetings from friends from near and far, people I’ve known forever and not so long. For my birthday, Hans decided to wash my car yesterday. Wouldn’t you know it, half an hour after he finished it rained. It’s still clean and smells good on the inside, though.
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It’s good to know we can control the weather. Need rain? Wash your car!
Have a great day, PJ.
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Yes, PJ. Have a day full of your favorite bread and treats.
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happy birthday
what a treat it has been since ypu entered the trail that day however long agp it was
seems like forever and only yesterday
hope its a great one and the we enjoy man more together
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Oh, have a great day, PJ!
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Barb, how big do these marigolds become.
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They’re kinda short, probably 6-8 inches, and it creates a little “bush” probably 6 inches across.
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From Wendell Barry:
When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.
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Lovely, Steve. Wendell Barry is such a gentle, yet forceful, voice.
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Thanks, PJ. I didn’t want to put this in the comment above, but for several days I’ve lived with the fear my daughter might have the virus. As of this morning, it seems more likely she does not. Let’s just say I am in the Hope business in a huge way right now.
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Rise and Face the Worst, Baboons,
Several times in life, I have felt besieged like your friends, Renee. it is an experience of being lost, outside the flow of life. Or it seems so. Often how we perceive the lives of others, is really all illusion.
In my early to late 30’s when my life crashed and it felt like I would lose everything, I had a book by William Bridges called “Transitions.” That book led me through the “neutral zone” of waiting and waiting for life to take hold again. He uses Greek mythology to illustrates his points, which at that point, seemed about right for me.
Auden captures the feeling of suffering while life proceeds without you, as seen in the art of the Masters:
Musee des Beaux Arts
W. H. Auden
About suffering they were never wrong,
The old Masters: how well they understood
Its human position: how it takes place
While someone else is eating or opening a window or just walking dully along;
How, when the aged are reverently, passionately waiting
For the miraculous birth, there always must be
Children who did not specially want it to happen, skating
On a pond at the edge of the wood:
They never forgot
That even the dreadful martyrdom must run its course
Anyhow in a corner, some untidy spot
Where the dogs go on with their doggy life and the torturer’s horse
Scratches its innocent behind on a tree.
In Breughel’s Icarus, for instance: how everything turns away
Quite leisurely from the disaster; the ploughman may
Have heard the splash, the forsaken cry,
But for him it was not an important failure; the sun shone
As it had to on the white legs disappearing into the green
Water, and the expensive delicate ship that must have seen
Something amazing, a boy falling out of the sky,
Had somewhere to get to and sailed calmly on.
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Lovely poem, Jacque, and it balances out my horror at the thought you might not be among us now. We need you where you are.
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No you Steve. So kind of you.
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ThAnk you. How that became “No you?”….
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i like no you better
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“Hope” is the thing with feathers –
That perches in the soul –
And sings the tune without the words –
And never stops – at all –
And sweetest – in the Gale – is heard –
And sore must be the storm –
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm –
I’ve heard it in the chillest land –
And on the strangest Sea –
Yet – never – in Extremity,
It asked a crumb – of me.
Emily Dickinson
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Just came upon this:
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I may have posted this before, but oh well…
Wild Geese
You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting –
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.
Mary Oliver
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If you haven’t posted it, I have. I think this is a poem that speaks eloquently about issues of special concern in our times.
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marie oliver onbeing episode is special
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OT: Because we’re having so much fun with FaceTiming with relatives (on a borrowed iPad), Husband and I are thinking of buying an iPad – any recommendations about which version?
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More than likely you don’t need a ‘pro’ version. What size are you borrowing? If you like that, stick with that.
And for memory, if you’re just using it for FaceTime, you can do the smallest.
I keep teasing my boss. He ordered one with a Terabyte of memory. You know, for launching rockets and storing tons of videos. Neither of which he’s doing.
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I’ll probably want to use it as a camera too.
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They all do that. Photos will take some room for storage. So do at least the 128. Maybe even the next model with 256. Think you might use the “pencil” to write on it or draw? Kelly really likes the pencil on hers.
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I have the best friends! I really do. Don’t mean to brag, but I feel so blessed to have such caring, smart, (and smart ass), creative, and generous people in my life. There’s no way you can lose all the time when you’re surrounded by people like that. ❤
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yes
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there is no choice to make about going forward.
the option is not to go forward and that is not s choice
he day it starts you hardly notice then its been a year then another but it will get better it will and it can happen only for so long for so long for so long and the option changes and the details change but once its sliding and he shuffle to keep it going while the slide is pushing requires a little bit more just a little the shuffle to a scramble to an all out scramble to get your feet back under you then finally the ability to come to rest for a minute and get the strength back in you legs long enough to wake up and hope for a better answer to the slog. a day worth giving yourself an a+ on. the spark to make it within reach to pursue and go forward knowing it was meant to be here a while ago but still requires additional work. just more ,more is the only option. cant stop here, cant stop now just one more step one more step one more step. tomorrow, tomorrow tomorrow. there is no option but to know its going to be better.
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I love you dearly, tim, but these old eyes wish you’d show a little mercy with some punctuation. Struggling through a lengthy post by you, is really something I don’t want to do at the end of a day, and I hate to miss anything you have to say.
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It was that or nothing for today’s post when I don’t get around to looking at the trail until 10 o’clock at night I have to make the executive decision whether to post you’re not on this particular post I wouldn’t have use punctuation anyway
my er cummings brain kind of kicked in
but ill remember
make your font bigger
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Friends, who have both lost their jobs due to the current circumstances, left me the largest, most fragrant bouquet of daffodils I’ve ever seen on my doorstep this morning. They live in Northfield. I look at those flowers, and I feel the love that connects us all. What a blessing.
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a nice addition to a memorable birthday
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ok- incandescent proseblog
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