In Marge Pierce’s poem “To Be of Use,” she sings the praises of people who work hard in useful endeavors, who pull their weight and make things happen. I worked in a bakery for the first time over the holidays and saw up close people“who do what has to be done, again and again.” I saw the bakers “move in a common rhythm when the food must come in or the fire be put out.” I came to appreciate more than ever the value and beauty of hard, physical work.
People everywhere are made whole through useful, purposeful, “real” work, the end results of which are made visible through careful focus on the task at hand. That end result is filled with satisfaction and even joy, not only for the maker of the bread but also, of course, for the receiver of the loaves.
Friday, January 13, 2017
Wednesday, January 4, 2017
What does it mean to be “at home”?
I have been thinking about home during this holiday season. What does it mean to be “at home”? Of course, there are plenty of clichés that try to answer that question. “Home is where the heart is” is one of the most common answers. I certainly agree that what turns a house into a home is an emotional component that translates mere bricks and mortar into something heart-felt. Memories associated with a house can also turn it into a home – as we remember good and special times shared there. The physical space turns into an emotional haven as we conjure up those memories. As I think about home, I also think about homelessness and am reminded of the thousands of people throughout the world who have no houses to turn into homes. Where are they this holiday season, and how can we who have homes help them find theirs?
Wednesday, December 21, 2016
Poems Addressing Emotional Pain
“Wait” by Galway Kinnell and “After Great Pain, a Formal Feeling Comes” by Emily Dickinson are two poems that address the experience of great emotional pain.
In both, the person in pain is numb to the point of death. Both poems paint the external signs of that internal pain, that emotional crisis– the numbness, listlessness, inertness, and lack of interest in the world. The physical body shuts down to protect the aching heart and the chaotic mind.
In Kinnell’s poem, he encourages the person in pain to “wait,” to believe in the healing power of time itself. Be patient and life’s vitality will re-emerge, the narrator seems to say.
Dickinson’s poem seems less hopeful: the images of death and formality persist to the end, raising the question of whether we can ever outlive the pain of great emotional shock.
In both, the person in pain is numb to the point of death. Both poems paint the external signs of that internal pain, that emotional crisis– the numbness, listlessness, inertness, and lack of interest in the world. The physical body shuts down to protect the aching heart and the chaotic mind.
In Kinnell’s poem, he encourages the person in pain to “wait,” to believe in the healing power of time itself. Be patient and life’s vitality will re-emerge, the narrator seems to say.
Dickinson’s poem seems less hopeful: the images of death and formality persist to the end, raising the question of whether we can ever outlive the pain of great emotional shock.
Thursday, December 15, 2016
Poems by Mary Oliver and Naomi Nye
“Little Dog’s Rhapsody in the Night" by Mary Oliver
I am lucky enough to have a dog and also lucky enough to know Mary Oliver’s collection Dog Songs. Those poems remind us that our dogs teach us philosophical lessons about how to live a good and full life and about what matters most in our lives. What matters most, they tell us continually, is love. They love us unconditionally and in so doing teach us the purity of loving. What could be a sweeter arrangement, indeed, than giving and receiving love? To do so enriches our lives and the lives of those we love. Oliver’s poem, “Little Dog’s Rhapsody in the Night,” ends with a reminder of the magic of that reciprocal giving and receiving. “… He puts his cheek against mine/and makes small, expressive sounds./…/“Tell me you love me,” he says./“Tell me again.”/Could there be a sweeter arrangement? Over and over/he gets to ask./I get to tell.”
"Kindness" by Naomi Nye
In Naomi Nye’s poem “Kindness,” sorrow and kindness figure as two sides of one coin – or perhaps more accurately, as a cause and effect relationship: “Before you know kindness as the deepest thing/you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing.” Your own sorrow connects you to the pains and griefs of others and bulks up your empathic muscle. You come to know sorrow, the poem says, by losing the things you once counted on, by “feeling the future dissolve in your hand.” Once you know that desolation, you are in a better position to understand the “tender gravity of kindness” and how much it matters. Henry James, when asked about the important things in life, responded, “Three things in human life are important: the first is to be kind; the second is to be kind; the third is to be kind.” We would be wise to follow his counsel.
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