A bit of a downer, frankly

I wanted to share this poem by W. H. Auden.  You might recognize him as the author of the poem John Hannah recited in Four Weddings and a Funeral.  This one caught my eye on one of the poetry sites I frequent- sometimes they post an excerpt of a classic to lure people in on the home page.  But as I was reading through it, it really struck me today.  You know the phrase "arresting image"?  It's something that makes you stop what you're doing and pay attention.  That's how I feel about the following passage:

But all the clocks in the city
Began to whirr and chime:
'O let not Time deceive you,
You cannot conquer Time.

'In the burrows of the Nightmare
Where Justice naked is,
Time watches from the shadow
And coughs when you would kiss.

'O plunge your hands in water,
Plunge them in up to the wrist;
Stare, stare in the basin
And wonder what you've missed.

Here is the poem in its entirety.  Maybe it will strike you, too.

As I Walked Out One Evening

As I walked out one evening,
Walking down Bristol Street,
The crowds upon the pavement
Were fields of harvest wheat.

And down by the brimming river
I heard a lover sing
Under an arch of the railway:
'Love has no ending.

'I'll love you, dear, I'll love you
Till China and Africa meet,
And the river jumps over the mountain
And the salmon sing in the street,

'I'll love you till the ocean
Is folded and hung up to dry
And the seven stars go squawking
Like geese about the sky.

'The years shall run like rabbits,
For in my arms I hold
The Flower of the Ages,
And the first love of the world.'

But all the clocks in the city
Began to whirr and chime:
'O let not Time deceive you,
You cannot conquer Time.

'In the burrows of the Nightmare
Where Justice naked is,
Time watches from the shadow
And coughs when you would kiss.

'In headaches and in worry
Vaguely life leaks away,
And Time will have his fancy
To-morrow or to-day.

'Into many a green valley
Drifts the appalling snow;
Time breaks the threaded dances
And the diver's brilliant bow.

'O plunge your hands in water,
Plunge them in up to the wrist;
Stare, stare in the basin
And wonder what you've missed.

'The glacier knocks in the cupboard,
The desert sighs in the bed,
And the crack in the tea-cup opens
A lane to the land of the dead.

'Where the beggars raffle the banknotes
And the Giant is enchanting to Jack,
And the Lily-white Boy is a Roarer,
And Jill goes down on her back.

'O look, look in the mirror,
O look in your distress:
Life remains a blessing
Although you cannot bless.

'O stand, stand at the window
As the tears scald and start;
You shall love your crooked neighbour
With your crooked heart.'

It was late, late in the evening,
The lovers they were gone;
The clocks had ceased their chiming,
And the deep river ran on.

Glaring is caring?

The other day when I was waiting for the airport shuttle to pick me up, I was getting angry because it was a half an hour late.  I called the company twice and was assured the driver was "almost there," "almost there" but cars came and went and my blood pressure continued to rise.  When the van finally pulled up I rushed down the driveway and loaded my stuff inside.  I was already in a bad mood, exhausted from moving right up until the hour I had to leave, and I really wasn't planning to tip this driver.  Then he struck up a conversation.  I was surprised that I was the only person in the shuttle.  The driver asked if the company had called to tell me that he was running late.  I said, no, but I called them.  He told me they gave him this assignment at the last minute and he had to hurry down from Burbank.  They told him he had to be here by 10:30 and he said, there's no way with traffic, but I'll be there as soon as I can.  We proceeded to have a really nice conversation the entire way to the airport.  The company let him give all his other passengers to someone else so he could rush me to my plane once he picked me up.  I was ashamed by my bad attitude.  Here I was ready to unleash my stress and frustrations out on someone who was only doing their best to help me.

Over and over this year, I have been struck by the good nature and simple human kindness displayed by strangers.  Another example:  On my flight, the overhead bins were completely full by the time my section was boarded.  I had a laptop bag and a large purse, but they couldn't both fit under the seat in front of me.  I was debating whether I was really going to have to check my laptop when the woman beside me offered to let me put my purse with hers under the seat in front of her.  Who does that?  Nice people, apparently! 

I know I have a terrible tendency to myopically view things when life gets too crazy or times are tough, but meanwhile all around the city doors are being held open and even postal workers have been greeting people with a smile.  Then I watched this video a friend posted on facebook, and boy did I feel sheepish.  Yes, I'll try to be better in the new year.

The God of Loneliness

It’s a cold Sunday February morning
and I’m one of eight men waiting
for the doors of Toys R Us to open
in a mall on the eastern tip of Long Island.
We’ve come for the Japanese electronic game
that’s so hard to find. Last week, I waited
three hours for a store in Manhattan
to disappoint me. The first today, bundled
in six layers, I stood shivering in the dawn light
reading the new Aeneid translation, which I hid
when the others came, stamping boots
and rubbing gloveless hands, joking about
sacrificing sleep for ungrateful sons. “My boy broke
two front teeth playing hockey,” a man wearing
shorts laughs. “This is his reward.” My sons
will leap into my arms, remember this morning
all their lives. “The game is for my oldest boy,
just back from Iraq,” a man in overalls says
from the back of the line. “He plays these games
in his room all day. I’m not worried, he’ll snap out of it,
he’s earned his rest.” These men fix leaks, lay
foundations for other men’s dreams without complaint.
They’ve been waiting in the cold since Aeneas
founded Rome on rivers of blood. Virgil understood that
death begins and never ends, that it’s the god of loneliness.
Through the window, a clerk shouts, “We’ve only five.”
The others seem not to know what to do with their hands,
tuck them under their arms, or let them hang,
naked and useless. Is it because our hands remember
what they held, the promises they made? I know
exactly when my boys will be old enough for war.
Soon three of us will wait across the street at Target,
because it’s what men do for their sons.

-Philip Schultz

Take two and call me in the morning.

Last night I tried something new.  I went to a dance class that was more than a dance class.  This one had a live DJ, the steps were really easy to follow, and you do not stop moving for an hour and a half.  For all you LA people, it's called Groov3.  Check it out.  The instructor, Benjamin Allen has a really great philosophy about dance improving your life, I have to say that I agree.  When you're stressed and overwhelmed with life, spending a chunk of time learning dance moves and trying to look cool busting them out in front of a large group of people can really take your mind off things.  Plus, I think by now we can all agree that music soothes the soul (and uplifts it).

When I was in college, a couple friends and I would meet in our dorm common room to take a dance break from studying.  For some reason I can only recall us dancing to Weird Al and Space Jams.  Surely there was more to the playlist?  Napster had just come on the scene and I think we were all learning to harness it.  Anyway, try it sometime.  Instead of a smoke break, take a dance break.  Do it in traffic.  It will probably bring joy to the people around you, as they will count themselves lucky to have witnessed such an exuberant display.

The Dance

In Breughel's great picture, The Kermess,
the dancers go round, they go round and
around, the squeal and the blare and the
tweedle of bagpipes, a bugle and fiddles
tipping their bellies, (round as the thick-
sided glasses whose wash they impound)
their hips and their bellies off balance
to turn them. Kicking and rolling about
the Fair Grounds, swinging their butts, those
shanks must be sound to bear up under such
rollicking measures, prance as they dance
in Breughel's great picture, The Kermess

This poem was written by William Carlos Williams about a scene in a painting called The Kermesse:

Keep calm and carry on.

Many of you may have heard of the following poem before. It has one of those often quoted refrains.  The author wrote it for his dying father, but he (the author) died quite shortly after publishing it.  It is a good reminder for anyone going through a tough time- illness, economic loss, heartbreak- to "rage, rage against the dying of the light."  I myself received some bad news over the weekend, and I don't know why but somehow these words are powerful enough to make me feel better.

Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night

-Dylan Thomas

 

Do not go gentle into that good night,

Old age should burn and rave at close of day;

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,

Because their words had forked no lightning they

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright

Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,

And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight

Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,   

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,

Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray,

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.