or is it despair (oh that word again)
or maybe weariness or wariness.
How about sad? How about joyless?
How about depressed or even melancholy?
Not with it, perhaps. Not engaged. Not connected.
Adrift. Grasping but only half-heartedly.
So, I went in search of a book I once turned
to often as I tried to work through the tedious
and the pedestrian aspects of my mundane life.
I found it. Here are some things I found inside:
As we live we are transmitters of life and when we fail
to transmit life, life fails to flow through us...
And if, as we work, we can transmit life into our work,
still more life rushes into us to compensate, to be ready
and we ripple with life through the days...
Give and it shall be given unto you is still the truth
about life. But giving life is not so easy. It doesn't mean
handing it out to some mean fool or letting the living
dead eat you up...It means kindling the life force
where it was not, even if it's only in the whiteness of a
D. H. Lawrence
My bookmark for that page was a bumper sticker that says:
"BUT TO LIVE OUTSIDE THE LAW, YOU MUST BE HONEST"
There was a note, in my handwriting, on the back of said,
obviously unused, bumper sticker:
Beale St. Music Festival
Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and
try to love the questions themselves...Do not now seek
the answers which cannot be given you because you
would not be able to live them and the point is to live
everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will
then gradually, without noticing it, live along some
distant day into the answer.
Rainer Maria Rilke
Letters to a Young Poet
On that page was a yellow sticky pad note thingee. It contains
the following info:
Palm Beach Co. Domestic Assualt Center
I guess I will throw it away today. I remember writing
the note and why I wrote it. My sister's ex was psychologically
abusing her. She couldn't get help anywhere. The shelters
were for battered (physically) women.
So many years ago now.
I am afoot with my vision...I tramp a perpetual journey.
Song of the Open Road
I want to write, but more than that, I want to bring
out all kinds of things that lie buried in my heart.
The Diary of a Young Girl
The necessary thing is, after all, but this: solitude, great inner
solitude. Going into oneself and for hours meeting no one--
this one must be able to attain.
Rainer Maria Rilke
Letter to a Young Poet
In the middle of the journey of our life, I came to myself
within a dark wood where the straight way was lost.
The Divine Comedy
You gain strength, courage and confidence by every experience in
which you really stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say
to yourself, "I lived through this horror. I can take the next thing
that comes along." You must do the thing you think you cannot do.
You Learn by Living
World, I am your slow guest, one of the common things that
move in the sun and have close, reliable friends in the earth,
in the air, in the rock.
Lie back daughter, let your head
be tipped back in the cup of my hand.
Gently, and I will hold you. Spread
your arms wide, lie out in the stream
and look high at the gulls. A dead man's
float is face down. You will dive and
swim soon enough where the tidewater
ebbs to the sea. Daughter, believe me,
when you tire of the long thrash
to your island, lie up and survive.
As you float now, where I held you
and let go, remember, when fear
cramps your heart, what I told you:
lie gently and wide to the light-year
stars, lie back and the sea will hold you.