Author: itoccurstocp

Ideals

From Howard Thurman’s Deep Is the Hunger:

“Perhaps the simplest definition of art is that it is the activity by which [people] realize their ideals….  We are all artists in the sense that we are all engaged in some kind of activity by which we are realizing our ideals.”

Then comes the zinger:

“What kind of ideals are you realizing?  There is no neutrality here.  Everybody is engaged in this activity.”

I like that.  Our art is the activity through which we reach our ideals.  Which of course begs the question – through what activity(ies) am I reaching my ideals. Thought of another way, we are all painting pictures, writing stories, composing music [pick an artistic endeavor] in our pursuit of our ideals.

I suppose the planet is our collective museum.

Photo and Text Sunday

Photo taken recently in Galveston. Emily Dickinson text. It reminded me of another favorite quote of mine from Justice Felix Frankfurter: “Wisdom too often never comes, and so one ought not to reject it merely because it comes late.” I guess the combination of the two is that truth dazzles gradually resulting, if we are lucky, in wisdom.

Emphasis &Treasure

Today, from Howard Thurman:

“A man who depends upon externals for his significance, who must look to others for the nod of the head, is one whose life is constantly at the mercy of whatever it is he is courting in his environment.  He can easily become the victim of envy and jealousy.  Often, he ends up by stretching himself out of shape in trying to be to others what he can never be but what someone else could be without trying.  Where do you place your emphasis.”

Boy, there’s a lot to unwind there: “stretching himself out of shape in trying to be to others what he can never be but what someone else could be without trying.”

That brings to mind the Emerson quote: “Make the most of yourself, for that is all of you there is.”

Darkness and Light

It occurs to me that we are perhaps at our human best when we set aside our hubris and recognize our imperfections, our challenges, our humanity – that is, that we are all just feeling our way through.  This occurred to me today reading an Emily Dickinson poem, untitled as many are.  Never a Dickinson fan, but this one wins me over for her ability to convey much in little space, and to do so with some dry humor mixed in – at least I think she was being humorous.  Oh, and I love her free use of dashes, which I rely on a good deal, always assuming that such is frowned on by those who know.

We grow accustomed to the Dark –

When light is put away –

As when the Neighbor holds the Lamp

To witness her Goodbye –

A Moment – we uncertain step

For newness of the night –

Then – fit our Vision to the Dark –

And meet the Road – erect –

And so of larter – Darkness –

Those Evenings of the Brain –

When not a Moon disclose a sign –

Or Star – come out – within –

The Bravest – grope a little –

And sometimes hit a Tree

Directly in the Forehead –

But as they learn to see –

Either the Darkness alters –

Or something in the sight

Adjusts itself to Midnight –

And Life steps almost straight.

Wow. 

“We uncertain step for the newness of the night – Then – fit our Vision to the Dark –And meet the Road – erect — “

“But as they learn to see – either the Darkness alters – Or something in the sight Adjusts itself to Midnight – And Life steps almost straight.”

Such hope in those last words – “And Life steps almost straight.”

Sometimes

Each time I cycle back around to this poem in Garrison Keillor’s Good Poems collection seems to be the right time to do so – though I am not sure there would ever be a bad time to read Sometimes by Sheenagh Pugh.  In part:

Sometimes things don’t go wrong after all….

Sometimes our best efforts do not go amiss;

Sometimes we do as we meant to.

The sun will sometimes melt a field of sorrow

that seemed hard frozen; may it happen for you.

Only after reading this poem a few times have I come to recognize the hope, the expectation, the faith imbued within that single word – “sometimes.” Hearing it or reading it, I have come to understand the importance of focusing on what follows — which often has a prayer-like quality

Choosing Weapons in the Battle

Great writing and truth (perhaps they are the same thing) have the same effect – to stop me in my tracks and make me fully present in the moment.  Fully present in the world, yes, but somehow, at the same time, transcending that, “fully present” with no need for any other description – FULLY present. 

The moment, the sensation, slips away too quickly, but leaves behind some indelible mark that somehow, when put together with all the others, writes the story.  By way of example, today’s reading from Howard Thurman, Deep Is The Hunger:

“’No one ever wins a fight.’ This suggests that there is always some other way, or does it mean that man can always choose the weapon he shall use?  Not to fight at all is to choose a weapon by which one fights.  Perhaps the authentic moral statute of a man is determined by his choice of weapons which he uses in his fight against the adversary.  Of all weapons, love is the most deadly and devastating, and few there be who date trust their fate in its hands.”

I so love that – “…the authentic moral stature of a man is determined by his choice of weapons which he uses in his fight….”  This at one time acknowledges the “battle,” that we each have a role in it, and that our “choice of weapons” has import.