A Poem for October

 

Mid-October rises like heat, staying close
To the walls of a late summer sun,
Not wanting to let go to the breeze
Coming from the north, let it come.

Let the orange hues emerge to light
The paths of Autumn treads, fading
Leaves decorate the ground, confetti
Of a season, muted beauty abating.

Here at last, a taste of Autumn -
Butternut, acorn, pumpkin, spices
Invigorate and encapsulate a season
Of harvest and plenty of nature's devices.

For the Love of Libraries

 

Then dead souls woke; the thoughts of men
Whose bones were dust revived again;
The cloister's silence found a tongue,
Old prophets spake, old poets sung.

And here, to-day, the dead look down,
The kings of mind again we crown;
We hear the voices lost so long,
The sage's words, the sibyl's song.

Here Greek and Roman find themselves
Alive along these crowded shelves;
And Shakespeare treads again his stage,
And Chaucer paints anew his age.

As if some Pantheon's marbles broke
Their stony trance, and lived and spoke,
Life thrills along the alcoved hall,
The lords of thought await our call!

(from "The Library" by John Greenleaf Whittier)

I will always contend that libraries are magical places. What other place can offer thousands of worlds to explore? Thousands of different eyes to see through. In our world so inundated in tech where everything is about the newest devices and apps are required for everything, I feel myself going the opposite way to the tangible and lasting things that won't run out of battery, won't rely on anything else to work, or won't track our every move. 

My local library just re-opened, after a couple years of construction updating and upgrading. They also added an area that is a local history/cultural museum, which tells the story of our city. I was delighted to visit recently, and I won't be a stranger as I have been over the construction period. I will get back into a routine of going on a regular basis for lunch or just tea in the café (Black & Brew), having a browse on the shelves of the books for sale, and enjoying a wander through the fiction/non-fiction/poetry/mystery/etc shelves for a few reads to check-out. This time, I picked up two Agatha Christie mysteries and a book of Jorge Luis Borges' poems. 

Literary experience heals the wound, without undermining the privilege, of individuality. There are mass emotions which heal the wound; but they destroy the privilege. In them our separate selves are pooled and we sink back into sub-individuality. But in reading great literature I become a thousand men and yet remain myself. Like the night sky in the Greek poem, I see with a myriad eyes, but it is still I who see. Here, as in worship, in love, in moral action, and in knowing, I transcend myself; and am never more myself than when I do. 

(C.S. Lewis)

My visit re-ignited my love for libraries, which has always been there and always will be. They are wonder-filled places. You never know what you are going to find. Kind of like a used bookstore. Except it's free. In a time where the costs of everything has risen, and continues to rise, the library is still free. Thousands of books at your fingertips. A place to relax and browse. A place to meet up with others. A place to study and think. A place to warm up during cold days, or cool down during long summer days. A place to greet the books and let a few find their way into your hands.

And now I commend you again to your books. Books are delightful society. If you go into a room and find it full of books - and without even taking them down from their shelves - they seem to speak to you, to bid you welcome.

( W.E. Gladstone)

So, welcome the the library. Go check it out and see what grabs you. And enjoy learning amazing things.

Visiting Rodin

 

I recently visited with the Rodin sculpture collection on display right now at the Polk Museum of Art, something I have wanted to do for a few months when it first opened. It closes at the end of October.

I sometimes forget how much I enjoy a good visit to an art museum until I go and engage with the artist, the work, and the stories. I am always up for some art and history (the two usually go together), but Auguste Rodin also touches a note of the familiar (many of these sculptures are so well known). Another artist I have deeply appreciated for years is the German poet Rainer Maria Rilke, who worked for Rodin in the early 1900's. So, I have known of Rodin, but never known his works in real life in an up-close way. So, I was very much looking forward to a little visit when I heard of this exhibit opening.

I picked a good time to go on a Sunday afternoon. It was not very busy and I could take my time walking around, reading all the info provided. I really didn't know much about Rodin, except his connection with Rilke, so it was enjoyable to learn about his life and work. "The Gates of Hell" was a piece modelled after Dante's The Divine Comedy, so naturally that drew my attention and interest. "The Benedictions" was kind of angelic and mythical. The story of the "Burghers of Calais" was a moving tale (with accompanying sculptures of the individual persons) of a siege during the Hundred Years' War when the French town of Calais was taken by the English and the town's supplies was completely cut off so the people starved for 11 months. Until 6 people offered themselves as sacrifices to the Lords of England in exchange for relief to the town. Rodin sculpted each of the 6 people, most were on display, but apparently they were never executed as the King's wife changed his mind in the end, but that willingness to walk into certain death to relieve the siege of the town is memorialized in these bronze figures.

 So, a little art date to the museum to see the Rodin sculptures was a great way to spend a little time. Something about sculptures fascinates me. How they are molded and formed into a new creation is a wonder to my non-artistic mind. An art filled visit engages my senses and words with a bit of history brought to my doorstep, so close by at the Polk Museum of Art.

Melancholy, The Anatomy of

 

We love the world too much; God too little; our neighbor not at all, or for our own ends.

I didn't mean to read The Anatomy of Melancholy all the way through at once. I was going to dip in and out of topics and just kind of meander through some pages like a dictionary or encyclopedia. But I accidently read the whole thing. It was that enjoyable I started and just kept reading. 

Every morning with my coffee and journal, I would read just a couple pages. I would follow the tangents that Robert Burton would go on, which would last for pages, and sometimes the next day I would continue on that same tangent. I try to put my finger on what this book is to describe it: is it a dictionary? A journal? A research project on love, morals, and ethics? Inspirational and motivational reminders of Biblical truths? A book of quotes and poetry from ancient wisdom? Tales of woe from those who stray? Thoughts and musings from the author on various topics of health, food, exercise, reading, studying, and magic? A big book of lists?

Well, it's all of the above. Mashed into one giant book weighing in at about 1,080 pages. It's a mammoth collection of Robert Burton's thoughts and quotes from ancient sources that I often wondered how he had access to. Was he making some of this up? Latin quotes fill some of the paragraphs, which thankfully he almost always translates. 

In avoiding errors, fools rush to the opposite extremes.

Whether he was making some of this stuff up, it doesn't really matter. In one tale he tells he actually states at the end that it doesn't matter whether the story is true, it plays the role to tell a truth he wanted to tell. I laughed often whilst reading passages, sometimes because of archaic language not used anymore, sometimes situations are just humorous. It was not only entertaining and informative, it was interesting to read from the perspective of his time in Oxford (he lived there all his life). Published in 1621 (400 years ago!), there are bits of history and politics mixed into his perspective. And indeed, his religious life is the undertone of the whole book.

The chief thing we respect is our commodity: and what we do, is for fear of worldly punishment, for vainglory, praise of men, fashion, and such by-respects, not for God's sake. We neither know God aright, nor seek, love, or worship him as we should. And for these defects, we involve ourselves into a multitude of errors, we swerve from this true love and worship of God: which is a cause unto us of unspeakable miseries; running into both extremes, we become fools, madmen, without sense, as now in the next place I will show you.

I think Robert Burton would have been a hoot to hang out with and talk to. Historic notes from people he associated with noted how friendly and pleasant he was to be around. While he says he wrote this book to keep himself out of despair and melancholy, he states very simply that the solution for melancholy is "be not solitary, by not idle". Writing this book was his way of fulfilling those pieces of advice. I imagine he walked around Oxford conversing with all kinds of people gathering stories and ideas for entering into his book later, because he kept adding to this book once it was published.

He who blends the useful with the charming wins every vote.

He offers sections that are symptoms of melancholy, showing us that we all have the tendency to fall into such a state. He has subsections and tangents. Then, he has a cures section that attempts to encourage ways to resolve the issue at hand - 

For if thou dost not ply thy book,
By candlelight to study bent,
Employ'd about some honest thing,
Envy or Love shall thee torment.

In other words, stay busy, keep focused, work on something that is worth paying attention to. This is a cure for love melancholy, which comprises a whole section in the book. The spiritual battle that we all deal with on different levels. 

Following Plato, calls these two loves, two Devils, or good and bad Angels according to us, which are still hovering about our souls. The one rears to heaven, the other depresseth us to hell; the one good, which stirs us up to the contemplation of that divine beauty, for whose sake we perform Justice, and all godly offices, study Philosophy, &c., the other base, and through bad, yet to be respected; for indeed both are good in their own natures...

It was a pleasure to accidentally read the whole of The Anatomy of Melancholy. I will revisit this book very often. I underlined so many passages and made notes everywhere.  It is most certainly a top favourite book of mine, and sits at a ready stance on my shelf; easy to grab and linger over. 

Komdu blessaður

 

Komdu blessaður

Come, and be blessed.

When I travel, I have the profound feeling of being blessed. Visiting churches in foreign countries helps to bring that to the forefront on my mind. I love to go into a church and experience the quiet, beauty, and calm of the place, and take a few moments if possible. All the elements of travel have their uncertainty, and I experience and reflect in a mode of deep thanksgiving that I get to see some places of the world that God has so creatively set in motion. To me, it is truly a gift to get to travel (and I say "get to" because I feel it's such a special thing).

When I get to travel, I feel immensely blessed because I know it's not the norm, especially to places I love to go to, like Iceland and the UK. These are not cheap, quick flights and journeys. Because travel is important to me, I save up my money for a long time, and then take one amazing trip. 

For me, these big trips to my favourite places provide years of inspiration and reflection after the trip. I still reflect on my first trips to the UK (2009, 2010), those first sights of Oxford, the days all to myself exploring Newcastle, England, the epic road trip around Scotland with my brother, and if I go back these kinds of memories go back even farther to my childhood/teens. Travel became a priority for my parents to let us four children experience the U.S. as we never had before. This, I think, installed in me a love for exploring places from an early age that are full of stories, histories, and much different landscapes than I am used to. It awakened in me a resource of inspiration and way to write about things I never would have thought of before.

Reflecting on this kind of lifelong thankfulness as we pass the 13 year mark of losing Dad, I think about how he loved to explore and learn the history of places. He never pushed that on any of us (we were usually impatient for the next thing), but he was the one in every museum and at every historical site reading every plaque and looking slowly at every artifact or monument. He didn't care about the touristy things or the busy-ness of cities. He was there to experience the place and learn about it. He was a great example of what we now might call a "slow traveler". This is how I have adapted my way of travel as I grew up to adulthood, very much modelled after Dad's way of travel. He paid attention to the history and meaning of a place, as I seek to do. 

My family would travel mostly in the Winter (usually around Christmas time when all us kids were on holiday break and Dad could leave because the lawns he mowed weren't growing). So, I have this deep sense of love for all things Winter. That's when I got to travel growing up. That's when I would get to see the amazing Western U.S. played in snow, skied, hiked mountains, gazed at towering waterfalls, and explored the Northeast. I am so deeply thankful to my parents for saving up and taking us four children on such adventures, as I still reflect on those many trips.

The simple act of reflecting in thankfulness can make us feel the blessing that has been present all along life's journey. Sometimes we see the darkness growing, we feel the suffering that comes with being human, and we get lost in a feeling of despair. If you get caught in the spiral of despair, turn your inward eyes toward God, and focus on what you are thankful for now and in the past, knowing it came from Him and He doesn't change. He still wants to bless you. Let the blessing of your past remind you of the blessing that is still present within you now and lighting the way for your future.