This is what you have been waiting for

Krista Tippett has a fabulous interview with Marie Howe, who teaches writing at Sarah Lawrence College, and is the current State Poet of New York. The episode is called "The Poetry of Ordinary Time."

This is a poem she wrote of her brother, John, who died of AIDS at age 28.

"The Gate."
I had no idea that the gate I would step through
to finally enter this world
would be the space my brother's body made. He was
a little taller than me: a young man
but grown, himself by then,
done at twenty-eight, having folded every sheet,
rinsed every glass he would ever rinse under the cold
and running water.
This is what you have been waiting for, he used to say to me.
And I'd say, What?
And he'd say, This — holding up my cheese and mustard sandwich.
And I'd say, What?
And he'd say, This, sort of looking around.

"[H]ere's another line from "Nowhere." "This is how things happen, cup by cup, familiar gesture after gesture. What else can we know of safety or of fruitfulness?"

They go on to talk more about the sacredness of the every-day. The transcript is here.

May you revel in the kingdom of ordinary time, this day and every day.

On not living in Dread

As I mentioned in a previous post, I'm going my best not to focus on the bad number from my recent blood work. I'm fond of saying that "I refuse to live in Dread. It's a bad place and I won't live there."

The following is a quotation from a wonderful book I'm reading, Travels with Epicurus, by Daniel Klein:

ON RAGE AND STOICISM

"God knows, I can all too easily get into raging against the dying of the light. The entire prospect of gradually and inevitably falling apart, with death as the only possible relief, not only fills me with terror; it overwhelms me with anger. Not fair, any of it. 'This is the final payoff for having lived a long and fruitful life? Who made the rules? I hate it, all of it.

But what can come of my rage? Even if it feels authentic to cry foul in face of this ultimate cosmic joke, is howling with fury the way I want to spend the period of my life before old old age gets me? The Stoics, both Greek and Roman, would certainly argue against taking the rage route.

Stoicism, founded in Athens by Zeno of Citium, not long before Epicurus took up residence there, developed over the course of more than three centuries, reaching into all regions of Greece and to Rome, where such philosophers as Seneca and Marcus Aurelius refined and elaborated upon its fundamental tenets. This philosophy's most abiding idea is that people should liberate themselves from their passions and surrender uncomplainingly to what is unavoidable, because dwelling on what is out of our control invites pain without any conceivable gain.

Zeno out-Zenned Epicurus in his prescription for a calm and comforting happiness; he advocated fully detaching ourselves from our desires rather than, as Epicurus proposed, calibrating and mapping out various routes to contentment. Epictetus, a first-century Greek, succinctly expressed the results of practicing Stoic philosophy: "Show me one who is sick and yet happy, in peril and yet happy, dying and yet happy, in exile and happy, in disgrace and happy. Show him me. By the gods I Would fain see a Stoic."

The Stoics, then, would advise us to cut loose at the very source of our rage against the horrors of old old age by becoming indifferent to old old age's claim on us. After all, it is out of our control anyhow. With no expectations or desires, we will experience no geriatric depression.

I do not think I am able to do that. Sometimes the practice of Stoicism feels more like denying pain than transcending it, and denial of any kind has rarely seemed to me like an authentic way to live. ('Mere are also times when the practice of Stoicism seems like a mind game, one that comes perilously close to singing to oneself "Don't Worry, Be Happy.") But one compelling idea that I do take away from Stoic philosophy is the business about letting go of matters over which I have no control. Focusing on the horrors of old old age before I get there would get me nowhere. For starters, it would be a waste of precious and very limited time."

Here's hoping we can all avoid wasting our precious and limited time living in Dread.

Diva series: Single Ladies

And here I didn't think I liked Beyoncé.

Single Ladies (Put A Ring On It)

If this doesn't get your toes tapping, I don't know what will.

I confess to feeling a bit of guilt posting this series at the same time that there are so many world crises happening from Syria to North Korea. But maybe, referencing the latter, it's Kim Jung Un's way of saying "Put a ring on it."

Diva series: The Girl in 14G

The best of both worlds of Kristin Chenoweth:

Composed by Jeanine Tesori,
written for Ms. Chenoweth's debut CD, "Let Yourself Go"

Tootling, toddling, & stitching on this cloudy day. Rehearsal in Melrose tonight for the kiddie concert on Sunday. Not a fan of pops concert format - everything fast, loud, & high.

Diva series: Stars and the Moon

This one always makes me cry.

Audra McDonald sings Stars and the Moon by Jason Robert Brown

Heading off soon for an Alexander lesson. Then some laundry & stitching.
 

Diva Series: I will wait forever

Ol' scarface with a fantastic rendition of this classic:

Jessye Norman singing "I will wait for you" from Michel Legrand and
 Jacques Demy's  The Umbrellas of Cherbourg (1964)

Heading off soon for a teeth cleaning - then tootling, etc. Lovely cool day today.

Diva Series: It Never Entered My Mind

The marvelous Dawn Upshaw who was @ the Manhattan School when I was. How two career paths differ.

It Never Entered My Mind.
From the 1940 Rodgers and Hart musical Higher and Higher

Gorgeous day out there after walloping thunderstorms yesterday afternoon. Tootling, toddling, stitching & perhaps laundry on tap for later on.

Diva series: You must believe

For those of you looking forward to warmer temps:




Jessye Norman - You must believe in spring (Michel Legrand)

Gotta get myself tootling soon though I'm feeling really lazy today.Toddling to & from the bank & stitching also on tap, as is a Melrose rehearsal tonight.