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Thursday, June 20, 2013

even my soul is wet




After Long Busyness

by Robert Bly

I start out for a walk at last after weeks at the desk.
Moon gone plowing underfoot no stars; not a trace of light!
Suppose a horse were galloping toward me in this open field?
Every day I did not spend in solitude was wasted.





"There may be more beautiful times, but this one is ours." 


- Jean-Paul Sartre














"sometimes I get up at dawn, and even my soul is wet"

- Neruda





It's the morning light that saves me, and it's the coffee that saves me when I've become soul-dampened. (I've become soul-dampened). It's the thought that there are more beautiful times, more beautiful places, more beautiful lives, but these are mine, this is what I have. 

At the School of Life, there is a treatment being offered, known as 'bibliotherapy.' And I know there are certain writers I need to read right now. Particular books. Passages. The usual. Woolf, Cixous, Lispector. And then Crossing to Safety by Stegner, parts of that. Parts of Gilead by Marilynne Robinson. Some poems by Li-Young Lee, and Mei-Mei Berssenbrugge. I suppose most of my bibliotherapy is on the recommended bookshelf above. 







What else saves me. The flowers, not quite blooming. I'm drinking up all the green because one has to take in all one can, save it up for the long season, for winter. Maybe that seems perverse. To already be thinking about winter at the beginning of summer. Tomorrow is the longest day of the year, and at Latitude 53, it's longer than most. There's a project going on called #YEG Long Day which you can read about here.




Meanwhile, I'm going to experience the day as I experience every day. I'll look for the light, I'll read a little, I'll attempt to carve out a space for solitude, however short lived. I'll attempt to become less disillusioned with this strange city I live in. Less soul-dampened.










1 comment:

  1. Wow! Those dahlias! Beautiful pix, Shawna. I hope the green, the lush, the scent will serve to sop up your soul. Maybe that little spider will catch you in her web. . .

    ReplyDelete

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