Hiking

I have been lucky to live in places where great hikes are readily accessible. I am also lucky to have a dog who likes the hikes as much as I do. There is, of course, the beauty of the external landscape – trees whispering in the wind, streams babbling along the path, wildflowers donning their colors, and birds chirping overhead. There is also the meditative effect of putting one foot in front of the other, as one’s internal landscape begins to echo the beauty of the external surroundings. And then, there is the easy discourse with hikers whom you pass, fellow travelers along the path. Being in nature seems to promote a gentle courtesy, a shared appreciation of the space, inviting us to tread lightly and to be respectful of one another. My dog reminds me that there are other critters along the way, as she scampers after squirrels and bunnies. The full tableau is a gift that inspires gratitude.

Option B

I just read an excerpt from Sheryl Sandberg’s new book Option B: Facing Adversity, BuildingResilience, and Finding Joy. In it she talks about how shocked she was by the number of friends who did not ask her how she was doing after the death of her husband: 

“I felt invisible, as if I were standing in front of them but they couldn’t see me. When someone shows up with a cast, we immediately inquire ‘What happened?’ If your life is shattered, we don’t.” 

She goes on to talk about the white elephant in the room that nobody wanted to touch. Isn’t it odd that folks – even our closest friends – are so uncomfortable in the presence of dramatic emotional pain and loss? Not knowing what to say, they say nothing, a fact that only leads to emotional distance, just what the person in pain does not need. Both sides need to reach out and lean in.

Billy Collins

I recently listened to a performance of Billy Collins reading a collection of his poems. Not all poets read their own poems well, but Collins's readings are superb, the cadence and tone of his voice a perfect vehicle for the poems on the page. Listening to his poems, it is no surprise to me that Collins is so wildly popular. His poems speak of the ordinary and the everyday in a new and often very ironic way that illicits laughter and delight. 

Humor is one of the most distinguishing characteristics of his poetry. He knows how to be both clear and mysterious, simple and profound. Whether he is spoofing love poems that pile on excessive metaphors on the beloved - as he does in "Litany," or describing the poignant vulnerability of a building ruined by an explosion - as he does in "Building With Its Face Blown Off," he is a master of his craft.

Clouds and Daffodils

I recently thought of Wordsworth's "I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud" when I was watching all the cloud formations as I drove through New Mexico and Arizona. Of course, the poem is really about daffodils and memory, the clouds being simply a simile to describe the speaker's wandering: "lonely as a cloud." But I was glad to be reminded of daffodils, too, especially as winter gives way to spring this April. The daffodils in the poem are "sprightly" and "jocund'" as they "flutter in the breeze." 

As the speaker watches them, he has no idea how much joy they will bring him later, when he conjures them up in his memory and "dances with the daffodils."  So powerful is memory that it can reproduce a vivid scene from our past as though it were with us in the present: we experience not only the visual vista but also the emotional experience.