May we raise children
who love the unloved
things – the dandelion, the
worms and spiderlings.
Children who sense
the rose needs the thorn
& run into rainswept days
the same way they
turn towards sun…
And when they’re grown &
someone has to speak for those
who have no voice
may they draw upon that
wilder bond, those days of
tending tender things
and be the ones.
by Nicolette Sowder
“I became aware of just how fleeting the sense of happiness was, and how flimsy its basis: a warm restaurant after having come in from the rain, the smell of food and wine, interesting conversation, daylight falling weakly on the polished cherrywood of the tables. It took so little to move the mood from one level to another, as one might push pieces on a chessboard. Even to be aware of this, in the midst of a happy moment, was to push one of those pieces, and to become slightly less happy.”
by Teju Cole
This is so true, right? At least, it is so for me. I might be considered to be moodier than others around me though. It takes so little to make me happy and so little, indeed, to make me sad too. Sometimes, I have to think hard to figure out what caused this change of emotion. Too often, it turns out to be such a minuscule thing that I’m surprised at the effect it has on my mood. Not that this realization helps change your mood for the better.
Ah, what is the point of all this rumination and analysis? The quote is nice, though.
“I am sure you know what Paul de Man says about insight and blindness. His theory has to do with an insight that can actually obscure other things, that can be a blindness. And the reverse, also, how what seems blind can open up possibilities. When I think about the insight that is a form of blindness, I think of rationality, of rationalism, which is blind to God and to the things that God can offer human beings. This is the failure of the Enlightenment.”
by Teju Cole
Interesting quote that I came across in the Open City (book that I am currently reading). I have always thought of an insight as akin to clearing the fog off my glasses, so everything appears clearer. Things which were hidden from view now in full visibility. But, maybe that is not necessarily the case with every insight. Certain insights blind you to some other bits of information – like glasses that help you read the book in your hands but make it difficult to see what’s happening in the distance. Or vice versa.
Not sure I agree entirely with the example mentioned in the quote, but I need to think about it further.
Music I’m listening to – Sigh, nothing at all. I barely listen to music nowadays. When I go for walks, I mostly end up listening to podcasts. Come to think of it, I listen to podcasts pretty much all the time I’m not actively doing something else.
Podcast I’m listening to – Ah, here I have too many to write. Newslaundry podcasts are always a joy to listen to. Then, there’s the Economist and Guardian podcasts.
Book I’m reading – Bunch of them since nothing holds my interest for too long, so I have to keep alternating. Open City by Teju Cole is a nice, dreamy read without a real plot to speak of, so it’s perfect to pick up after a short break as well. Started one called Strange Weather in Tokyo today. It seems promising in a typical Japanese way. Before going to sleep at night, I end the day with Zen Mind, Beginner’s Mind by Shunryu Suzuki. Now this is a highly acclaimed book in the meditation circles, but so far it hasn’t really blown my mind. I’ll reserve my judgement though until I finish the book.
Show I’m watching – So many! Borgen, a Danish political drama on Netflix which has turned out to be quite interesting. It is one of those shows where you’re not really waiting with bated breath for the next episode, but you end up enjoying it anyway. Then there is Peaky Blinders, which we just started yesterday. And my Japanese favorites – Aggretsuko and Atashi’nchi! Love love love them 🙂
“A cancerous violence had eaten into every political idea, had taken over the ideas themselves, and for so many, all that mattered was the willingness to do something. Action led to action, free of any moorings, and the way to be someone, the way to catch the attention of the young and recruit them to one’s cause, was to be enraged. It seemed as if the only way this lure of violence could be avoided was by having no causes, by being magnificiently isolated from loyalties. But was that not an ethical lapse graver than rage itself?”
by Teju Cole
I came across this quote in a book called Open City that I am reading currently. More on the book and my introduction to this author’s works later.
The quote is so relevant in these times. These highly polarized times. It feels trite to say these words, even if it happens to be an undeniable truth. I feel like I’ll puke if I hear one more group of people trying to analyze and dissect the state of our divided world. Tell me something I haven’t heard before. Sigh, doesn’t change the fact that it is true.
How would it be like to have no allegiances for the next one year? No isms to ascribe to or feel compelled to defend. After all, isms only cause schisms. Hehe…silly wordplay on my part.
Okay, back to the book.
When You Go Away
When you go away the wind clicks around to the north
The painters work all day but at sundown the paint falls
Showing the black walls
The clock goes back to striking the same hour
That has no place in the years
And at night wrapped in the bed of ashes
In one breath I wake
It is the time when the beards of the dead get their growth
I remember that I am falling
That I am the reason
And that my words are the garment of what I shall never be
Like the tucked sleeve of a one-armed boy
by W.S. Merwin; (Source: https://merwinconservancy.org/)
Recently, I read a lovely book called ‘My Salinger Year’ by Joanna Rakoff. It is a memoir detailing a specific period of the author’s life as she enters the publishing world of New York. I picked it up mainly because I have loved Salinger’s books as a youngster. But this book turned out to be a great way to start off 2021! It was funny, insightful, sensitive, and well, engaging to say the least. Loved the descriptions of New York, its cafes, the famous streets, the inclement weather – all made me feel like I was right there with the author sharing a cup of coffee and a croissant in cold, windy NY.
The above poem by Merwin was mentioned in this book. I love his poems, so I was happy to come across one that I hadn’t read before. Been pondering over the last couple of lines.
Continuing on the theme of ‘being good’, here is another poem. I swear I didn’t mean to post another poem on the topic, but this is the one that came up while I was reading random poems from my list of favourites. Maybe it’s a sign that I need to ponder over this further, as I approach my 40th birthday this year.
Feels like a milestone of sorts! When I was a lot younger, I remember dreading my 30th birthday. At that point, 30 felt like the beginning of ‘old age’. Hah! Now that I’m nearing 40, I still don’t feel particularly old. There are different things I worry about now though. Would rather not get into that now. Let’s get back to the poem.
The Good
The good are vulnerable
As any bird in flight,
They do not think of safety,
Are blind to possible extinction
And when most vulnerable
Are most themselves.
The good are real as the sun,
Are best perceived through clouds
Of casual corruption
That cannot kill the luminous sufficiency
That shines on city, sea and wilderness,
Fastidiously revealing
One man to another,
Who yet will not accept
Responsibilities of light.
The good incline to praise,
To have the knack of seeing that
The best is not destroyed
Although forever threatened.
The good go naked in all weathers,
And by their nakedness rebuke
The small protective sanities
That hide men from themselves.
The good are difficult to see
Though open, rare, destructible;
Always, they retain a kind of youth,
The vulnerable grace
Of any bird in flight,
Content to be itself,
Accomplished master and potential victim,
Accepting what the earth or sky intends.
I think that I know one or two
Among my friends.
by Brendan Kennelly (Source: https://nowherebetterthanthis.wordpress.com/)
Yesterday afternoon a man from the cities
Spoke at the door of the inn.
He spoke to me as well.
He spoke of justice and the struggle for justice,
Of the workers who suffer,
Of their unending drudgery, of those who hunger,
And of the rich who only turn their backs.
And looking at me, he saw tears in my eyes
And smiled with satisfaction, convinced that I felt
The hatred he felt and the compassion
He said he felt.
(But I was scarcely listening to him.
What do I care about people
And what they suffer or suppose they suffer?
Let them be like me, and they won’t suffer.
All of the world’s trouble comes from us fretting over one another,
Whether it be to do good or to do evil.
Our soul and the sky and the earth is all we need.
To want more is to lose this, and to be unhappy.)
What I was thinking about
While the friend of the people spoke
(And this moved me to tears)
Was how the distant twinkling of sheep bells
As the day began to close
Did not seem like the bells of a tiny chapel
Calling to mass the flowers and streams
And simple souls like my own.
(I thank God I am not good
But have the natural egoism of flowers
And rivers that follow their path
Unwittingly preoccupied
With only their flowering and their flowing.
That is the only mission in the world:
To exist clearly,
And to do so without thinking about it.)
And the man fell silent, looking at the sunset.
But what good is a sunset to one who hates and loves?
by Fernando Pessoa (Source: http://poemsoffernandopessoa.blogspot.com/)
Interesting poem. What does it mean to be ‘good’ anyway? I don’t know if I am a good person really. Sometimes, I’m good because I am naturally moved to be so in the situation. Sometimes, I act good so that I’m favoured by the person. Many a time, I am good only as a matter of habit and upbringing. A lot of times, I’m good but perhaps, not good enough. I could be a lot better. In any of this, can I take credit for being good, or be blamed for not being so?
To be unwittingly preoccupied with only your own flowering and flowing – is that selfish, or is that the only way of being truly authentic? Hmmm.
Since I haven’t been in the best of spirits lately, I thought of looking up my list of bookmarked poems to see if there were any on happiness. Hope they serve to lighten your spirits and mine.
Happiness Writes White
I am a piece of chalk
scrawling words on an empty blackboard.
I am a banner of smoke
that crosses the blue air and doesn’t dissolve.
I don’t believe that only sorrow
and misery can be written.
Happiness, too, can be precise:
Doctor, there’s a keen throbbing
on the left side of my chest
where my ribs are wrenched by joy.
Wings flutter in my shoulders
and blood courses through my body
like waves cresting on a choppy sea.
Look: the eyes blur with tears
and the tears clear.
My head is like skylight.
My heart is like dawn.
by Edward Hirsch; (Source: http://knopfdoubleday.com/)
The above poem was written in response to the French poet, Henry de Montherlant’s maxim, ‘Happiness writes white’, which suggests that happiness is a blank that can’t be described. More on this, and the poem here.
Here’s another poem on happiness by Carl Sandburg,
Happiness
I asked the professors who teach the meaning of life to tell
me what is happiness.
And I went to famous executives who boss the work of
thousands of men.
They all shook their heads and gave me a smile as though
I was trying to fool with them
And then one Sunday afternoon I wandered out along
the Desplaines river
And I saw a crowd of Hungarians under the trees with
their women and children and a keg of beer and an
accordion.
by Carl Sandburg; (Source: http://poetrypill.blogspot.in/)
While I used to like this poem for its simplicity, I now find the stereotyping of people with limited means as being happier somewhat cliched and bothersome (simply because it is not true). Anyway, let’s not get too serious.
The last poem describes the unbridled joy of a dog playing fetch on a beach. Ah, now that is pure joy, isn’t it?
The Dogs at Live Oak Beach, Santa Cruz
As if there could be a world
Of absolute innocence
In which we forget ourselves
The owners throw sticks
And half-bald tennis balls
Toward the surf
And the happy dogs leap after them
As if catapulted—
Black dogs, tan dogs,
Tubes of glorious muscle—
Pursuing pleasure
More than obedience
They race, skid to a halt in the wet sand,
Sometimes they’ll plunge straight into
The foaming breakers
Like diving birds, letting the green turbulence
Toss them, until they snap and sink
Teeth into floating wood
Then bound back to their owners
Shining wet, with passionate speed
For nothing,
For absolutely nothing but joy.
by Alicia Ostriker; (Source: http://calmthings.blogspot.co.uk/)
It is one of those days when I have nothing to write about, but still want to show up here. Reminds me of this poem (heck, this is going to turn into a poetry blog very soon!),
Writing
A man who keeps a diary, pays
Due toll to many tedious days;
But life becomes eventful–then
His busy hand forgets the pen.
Most books, indeed, are records less
Of fulness than of emptiness.
by William Allingham
The general feeling of listlessness is probably exacerbated by the fact that I haven’t managed to get a night of good sleep for a while. The dry winters here cause my sinuses to flare up, and the nights are frequently punctuated with bouts of dry cough. I’m planning to buy a humidifier soon, and hopefully that will be the end of this problem.
Meanwhile, I haven’t read or listened to anything particularly interesting the past few days. After completing The Idiot by Elif Batuman, I decided to pick up this year’s Goodreads choice awards winner in the fiction category called Midnight Library. I have to confess, I’m a bit disappointed so far because it seems to be more of a YA read. It does have an interesting premise – more on that in another post – but the writing doesn’t really work for me. Luckily, it is a quick read so I’m already halfway through, or else it would have added to my list of books that I bailed on. Meanwhile, I also started a book on Zen Buddhism that has been on my list for a long time – Zen Mind, Beginner’s Mind. Now this one seems promising. I like it already.
Things that matter! 