WILD THINGS AND STORMS

“I come into the peace of wild things […] and am free.”

     -- Wendell Berry, “The Peace of Wild Things”

     Along with the scariness of the storm that struck the East Coast yesterday and last night, there was, for me, a strange sense of peace in the midst of the wild winds. There were times when I felt almost serene, times when I was somewhat anxious and yet also feeling afloat on a cloud of almost perfect peace. The winds were roaring around our house and bending the biggest trees in unbelievable ways, and yet there was sometimes stillness inside me, and sometimes an honest smile on my face. Admittedly, I occasionally felt like crawling under a cover and crying out for the storm to stop, but those times were offset by this strange peacefulness I’m speaking of – a peacefulness in the presence of the wildest storm the East has seen in years. Wendell Berry found peace among the wild things of our world, but is it possible, too, that the harshest storms can spread, along with their awe-inspiring winds, feelings of peace and appreciation for this passionate universe we’re lucky to live in?     

LILY SHOWERS

“… in thy sight

Storm flakes were scroll-leaved flowers, lily showers – sweet heaven was

astrew in them.”

      -- Gerard Manley Hopkins, “The Wreck of the Deutschland”

     As a ferocious storm advances toward us this morning, I’ve been reading this poem about another storm, and feeling inspired by the spirit of confidence and courage that runs through it. The poet portrays a Franciscan nun who was aboard a ship that sank in a storm as being pugnaciously stubborn in facing down the fury of the storm. For her and her faith, the snowflakes swirling around the ship were “scroll-leaved flowers” and the driving rain was like “lily showers”. There’s a sense, in the poem, of trust and assurance that the force of faith in a higher power can easily disarm the fearsomeness of nature’s storms. As I sit beside the window typing and taking in the sight of trees outside spectacularly swaying in the winds, I’m reassured by the quiet but equally spectacular strength of the thoughts arising inside me -- thoughts that settle me and cause me to remember that powers like acceptance and confidence and composure can easily cancel the sense of dread brought on by a storm. There’s a beauty, I notice, in the bending down of the long limbs of the trees and the furious rush of leaves in the street and certainly in the faces of some children chasing each other round and round among swirling leaves in our neighbor’s lawn. They know no fears about the storm, only the excitement of it all, the greatness of getting a day off from school, the sheer goodness of going around in circles in storm-blown leaves. For them, the coming storm is a “sweet heaven” of thrills, and so will it be, I hope, for me.       

DOING JUSTICE

 I sometimes pause to wonder if I do justice in my day-to-day life. Do I treat all the skirmishes and successes fairly and with full appreciation? Do I do justice to all the occurrences that come along -- to even the passing of cars on streets, to flowers falling over the top of a pot on a table, to the look of the light in the moon? Do I treat them all with attentiveness and earnest concern? Do I treat them fairly, giving each incident the kind of principled consideration each one deserves? Most importantly, do I treat the moments of my day with full thankfulness, focusing on the little miracles that live inside each one? We speak of appreciating a work of art, which is precisely the sense in which I should be grateful for the passing moments, those shimmering, irreplaceable creations in a cosmos that works constant wonders. 

BROTHERHOOD AND SISTERHOOD

“I look upon everything

as a brotherhood and a sisterhood…”

     -- Mary Oliver, “When Death Comes”

     It’s strange to me that I ever feel like I’m alone, since we all live among sisters and brothers as bright and beneficial as lights in darkness. Mary Oliver knows this, and I sometimes sense it as I pass through these days in the presence of colorful and affectionate fall trees and gracious winds swirling leaves on lawns. Nothing leaves us behind, and nothing says it doesn’t know us. The sidewalks my wife and I walk before sunrise are our assistants in staying fit, and the streets we drive on stay stretched out for us so we get where we’re going. The great gift of each moment is the reminder that all the things we see live in us and we live in them. The stars at night shine inside us when we see them, and every morning makes its start inside our minds and hearts as we head into the day surrounded and sheltered by the family of this safeguarding world.

WORDS

There are words he wishes 
he could carry with him
and hold out to others as gifts, 
and words made of wind 
and sunshine that settle 
inside his life like little friends.
There are words in books 
that break out into songs and dances
and don't seem to care 
if he's there or not, 
and never-ending words 
with never-ending meanings 
that make sentences slide
down hills to the sea 
where they disappear 
and leave him standing 
and shaking his head.

SOME CANDLE CLEAR

“Some candle clear burns somewhere I come by.”

-- Gerard Manley Hopkins, “The Candle Indoors”

     I love these words of Hopkins, mostly because they bring to mind the brightness of this world I live and work in. They speak of the shining lights that look out from each situation I’m in and each person I come into contact with. The world around me is sunny with the wisdom of the universe, splendid with the clear illumination of intelligence. Just sitting in a small chair beside a window is enough to show me the glow of this grand life I’m living. A single streetlight outside in the morning darkness is a symbol of the light that lives in every second, every place, every person that passes by as the day brings its offerings to all of us.      

CORDIAL AIR

“That cordial air made those kind people a hood/

All over…” 
-- from a poem by Gerard Manley Hopkins, “In the Valley of the Elwy”

     It’s always been my hope to have a cordial classroom, a place for people to come together in good-natured camaraderie. The very air in my room, I hope, has a happy feel about it, as though it’s found it’s special place among my students and me. The word “cordial” comes from the Latin word for “heart”, and indeed, there hopefully is a heartwarming quality in the air – a sense of pervasive and persistent kindness – as the students come in. Learning to use the wisdom the universe gives us to listen to the words of writers is what English class is all about, and being in a place of kindheartedness and consideration surely helps that process. In Hopkins’ words, it’s like having “a hood all over” us, a protective covering under which we can feel the influence of books and our own best thoughts.