Take It from the Tears of the Poets

I am fighting pessimism. I do not want to be sour and gloomy and see only all that is wrong in our country and the world. I am trying to not believe we are at the edge of the abyss staring into the darkness.

The poet Mary Oliver has written, “My concern for the world is a sorrowful business.”

I have that concern as well.

I struggle to breathe easier, to lessen the stresses, to find a place beyond the hard realities of this current debacle that is our nation and its defective government.

My Facebook friend, Shelley Henderson, shared an astonishing poem from the brilliant Kate Tempest, titled, “Brand New Ancients.” In it, she writes,

“In the old days,

the myths were the stories we used to explain ourselves

But how can we explain

the way we hate ourselves?

The things we’ve made ourselves into,

the way we break ourselves in two,

the way we overcomplicate ourselves?

We are still permanently trapped

somewhere between the heroic and the pitiful.”

And it is that entrapment that suffocates our potential, that is squeezing the life out of us. We are, as a people, blue in the face, gasping for air, about to collapse in our paralyzed indifference, in our tedium, in our apathy.

Educator Parker J. Palmer has said, “Civility will not come from watching our tongues. It will come from valuing our differences.”

It is not enough anymore to be polite, courteous, careful about how we speak, what we say. We are long beyond pleasantries. Our circumstances require something much deeper. We have to examine our values, the truths we hold about humanity and about ourselves. Can we not dig far enough into our souls and find the resources to be humane, to treat one another with intelligence, with generosity in spite of our differences?

Our guidance in these hostile times, in our flawed and deteriorating nation, must come from within. There is an innate knowledge of right and wrong in all of us. Instinctively we know when we are crossing a line that violates our goodness. We cannot ignore those inner standards we know without question lead us appropriately and honorably.

The eminent psychologist, Eric Fromm, wrote that in troubled, threatening times, the most critical psychological task to set for ourselves is not to feel secure, but to be able to tolerate insecurity.

That requires stable inner resources. When all the road signs are garbled, broken, or down, we have to resort to our inner compass to find our way. We know what is the right thing to do. We know. We just have to do it.

Kate Tempest reminds us,

“But the plight of a people who have forgotten their myths

and imagine that somehow

now is all that there is—

is a sorry plight

all isolation and worry

but the life in your veins

it is Godly, heroic.

You were born for greatness.

Believe it,

know it—

Take it from the tears of the poets.”

If I had five minutes to evacuate--what would I take with me?

If I was told there was a bomb in my building and I had five minutes to evacuate my apartment I’d grab a grocery bag and quickly toss these items into it: 1. A photo of my grandparents, Mom and Pop and me, when I was 15 years old. I learned what love is made of from them. I learned what it is to be kissed on and hugged in arms so tender they felt like God’s arms. I discovered self worth from those two angels in human flesh. Of all the people in my life, they were the ones who made me feel I counted. Honestly, whatever capacity I have to love others came from them. 2. A sentimental, dog-eared, stars in the margin copy of Pat Conroy’s, “The Prince of Tides.” It is a book I have read three times and often return to for its wisdom. It is a harsh, profoundly tragic novel, the story of a family so broken and tortured by such flawed and wounded people that it is sometimes difficult to turn the next page. And yet it is the story of such Herculean courage and endurance that you want...

I Saw the Delicacy of Life

I was flying Across the deep And I saw the delicacy Of life Wrinkles on the faces Of the old So pure they glistened Like awards The joy of children Running with abandon Their laughter ringing Like chimes in the wind I saw the soft moving waves Across the sea And the trees releasing Their rainbow leaves Birds joined me on my flight And I saw the surface of their wings Adorned with patterns Glorious and unfurled I saw the tears of the sad And the smiles of the glad The suffering in mourning And the celebration of birth As I descended toward the ground Slowly, slowly, softly I saw the gentle grass of the field And smelled the fresh earth It was a perfect landing © 2018 Timothy Moody

Actions Make a Difference

“We make progress in society only if we stop cursing and complaining about its shortcomings and have the courage to do something about them.” ~ Dr. Elisabeth Kubler-Ross, Physician/Author Pictured here is Kikuko Shinjo, 89 years old, a survivor of the Hiroshima atomic bomb blast. As a 17-year old nursing student she helped nurse victims of the carnage back to health. Many of them died in her care. She says she holds no grudge against America and encourages interaction between the Japanese and Americans. She has devoted her life to peace, saying, “I want all the people around the world to be friends, and I want to make my country peaceful without fighting.” Today she makes colorful paper cranes and donates them to the Children’s Peace Monument at the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Park.

The Unclad Soul

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