
It's been a while...
I'm thinking about beauty. I'm thinking about art. Keats and "Ode on a Grecian Urn" and Bishop and "One Art". About loss. And how, right now with all that is happening in so many parts of our worlds every loss is huge--whole neighborhoods destroyed in LA, wars in too many parts of the world, being awakened by sirens at 3am and sitting in your stairwell because you can't make it down to the bomb shelter in time. And change. And aging parents. And bearing the weight of your pain, and that of your loved ones, and the world.
Impermanence.
Maybe age has reduced my ability to withstand anything too pithy or trite. Promises that this too shall pass. At the same time, bitterness and victimization just make me feel stuck. So what do I do? A friend reminded me last week of the importance of beauty--actively seeking it, cultivating beautiful body-centered practices, filling one's ears and eyes and taste buds with beauty. One's mind. And soul.
And Bishop reminds me to write. In the last stanza of "One Art", we hear:
—Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan’t have lied. It’s evident
the art of losing’s not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.
And Keats reminds me, in those last iconic lines:
"Beauty is truth, truth beauty,—that is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know."
I am reminded every day that we hold the paradox of life--Bishop's disaster and Keats' beauty. The other day I had coffee with a friend and saw this bench. It grabbed my attention. It looked so beautiful, basking in the sun, taking a moment out of serving, being ignored, probably not thanked for providing a soft place to land. But there she was, sunning herself. Grabbing a moment of warmth. Beautiful. And I carried her with me all day.
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