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The Night Ship

William Ayot reminds me how much goes unexplored in my life. In the busyness and noise of my living, I do not hear what is calling me to be explored.

When I am mindful to the universe and my self, I hear whispers that come in  gentle breezes and on the sun’s rays. Being present to the universe and my self, helps me explore stars that seemed beyond my reach and climb peaks I believed unscalable.

The universe is a great ocean calling to me and patiently waiting my response.

What do you want to do in this world?

What is your star, your far distant peak?

What dream lies unexplored within you

like a vast uncharted southern ocean:

daunting, demanding, compelling in the night,

yet receding in the bright and busy light of day?

What discoveries invite you to the water?

What deck awaits your first excited step?

What ship, what clipper, what brave caravel?

what crowded ferry crosses back and forth,

from dream to waking, dream to waking,

every morning of your undiscovered life?

 

Look deep…

**Images found on Pinterest

Source: Look deep…

Natalie shared an Einstein quote about looking deep into nature if we want to understand the world and people better. It does not mean we will understand them completely, just better and that is not a given.

Better is an incomplete process. There is always something to be experienced and learned about nature. It keeps telling us its story in ways that we cannot completely understand.

When we experience nature, it is about being mindful and attentive to it. We experience it more fully when we understand we are part of nature, as opposed to outside of it.

To Be of Use

Marge Piercy wrote this poem about what it means to immerse one’s self in one’s life. She does use the word work, which is not always what we immerse ourselves in.

Hans-Georg Gadamer used a German word that means to while over the worth of something. We linger over those things that have meaning to us and make us feel useful in our lives. We do not want those things to end. When we find work that feels like that, we do not want it to end.

Something magical happens when we encounter something worth taking our time with in life. It is like it waits for us and we feel real when we come to know it. When are doing that, we experience being useful and giving back in a very real way.

The people I love the best

jump into work head first

without dallying in the shallows

and swim off with sure strokes almost out of sight.

They seem to become natives of that element,

the black sleek heads of seals

bouncing like half-submerged balls.

I love people who harness themselves, an ox to a heavy cart,

who pull like water buffalo, with massive patience,

who strain in the mud and the muck to move things forward,

who do what has to be done, again and again.

I want to be with people who submerge

in the task, who go into the fields to harvest

and work in a row and pass the bags along,

who are not parlor generals and field deserters

but move in a common rhythm

when the food must come in or the fire be put out.

The work of the world is common as mud.

Botched, it smears the hands, crumbles to dust.

But the thing worth doing well done

has a shape that satisfies, clean and evident.

Greek amphoras for wine or oil,

Hopi vases that held corn, are put in museums

but you know they were made to be used.

The pitcher cries for water to carry

and a person for work that is real.

 

Temple of My Familiar (An Excerpt)

Alice Walker included this poem in her novel Temple of My Familiar. She speaks to the challenge we face when we wait for others to do what needs to be done. They, in turn, wait for us to what needs to be done. It is a vicious, not virtuous circle.

In living and leading, the and others call each of us to be mindful and attentive to the world and people. My first language is French. I am not very fluent as an adult, but how the language is used seems imprinted on me. Being mindful and attentive is living and leading in proper relationships.

I recall my mother saying “ce n’est pas propre.” It is not proper and not right (vrai) or correct (correcte). Proper is a way of comporting one’s self and is an ethical position. When I hear politicians and pseudo-politicans say they followed the letter of the law, that is about being right and correct, not proper.

Aristotle spoke about praxis as an ethical practice in living one’s life. Goodness in this sense was the goal of living without knowing what that meant. When I wait for another to do the proper thing, I am not doing the proper thing.

To the extent that it is possible,

You must live in the world today

As you wish everyone to live

In the world to come.

That can be your contribution.

Otherwise, the world you want

Will never be formed. Why?

Because you’re waiting for others to do

What you’re not doing;

And they are waiting for you,

And so on.

The Place Where We Are Right

Yehuda Amichai is an Israeli poet who was born in pre-war Germany. He described his poetry as non-ideological, but based in reality that includes politics.

I chose this poem, as it points out challenges we face when we think life is simple and others will deliver solutions for us. Jacques Rancière wrote that politics is not an all the time event. It arises occasionally and we must be mindful to recognize the need to act politically. Hannah Arendt contended living with others means we live in polis or community, suggesting a political reality always exists in life.

Living with others is political, but not every act is political. It is hard to live with others and be in community. Amichai suggested the trampled and hardened ground we share is unlikely go produce flowers . Yet, there is always something happening below the surface that we cannot see. Metaphoric moles we do not see dig up and plough our world. It is the whispers of what passed that way that provides compost for the communal soil.

Even in the barren, we find richness. Barry Lopez describes how even in the most desolate places something draws us and we are interested in what we do not see: the mystery of the place.

From the place where we are right
Flowers will never grow
In the spring.

The place where we are right
Is hard and trampled
Like a yard.

But doubts and loves
Dig up the world
Like a mole, a plow.
And a whisper will be heard in the place
Where the ruined
House once stood.

The Guest House

I submitted my dissertation draft to my committee chair and have time to blog. I hope I will be able to continue on a more regular basis.

I have many favorite poets and poems. Rumi and this poem are examples. When one engages in a creative process, emotions well up and being human is a guest house for them. Each day brings something new and mixes emotions together.

Creativity is a conversational journey with one’s self as we turn inward to interpret and express what is meaningful to our self. It is in the creative process we allow some glimpse of who we are for others and the world to see.

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
As an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

 

 

Morning Haiku

When I taught, I used haiku for a various reasons. They are included in two curricula: Language Arts and Social Studies. In Language Arts, students are asked to select words that bit fit rhythm and message of a poem. In Social Studies, haiku were part of a unit on Japan, its history, and its culture. The unit included traditional and contemporary examples. Last, but not least I enjoy haiku, as well.

I think students sense when teachers are passionate about subjects, but conflicting messages adults send can be confusing them. At times, students came to school and said a parent questioned them about why I made them learn “stupid haiku.” I worked for an administrator who made a similar comments. I tell others that leaders pick words carefully and poetry helps us learn how to make those choices.

I love poetry and haiku because they challenge me to think about choosing words, spaces between them, and punctuation. Language and its rules have power that we often overlook.

Sonia Sanchez wrote this haiku and it reminds me how I experience my day tells others something. When I responded to students about why we learned haiku, I chose my words carefully, tempering the conflict that arose because of how I experienced poetry versus how a parent did. I hoped the words I chose signaled something about my day well so that others could enjoy their day.

Let me wear the day
Well so when it reaches you
You will enjoy it.

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