Hibernating ...

You Reading this, Be Ready


Starting here, what do you want to remember?
How sunlight creeps along the shining floor?
What scent of old wood hovers, what softened
Sound from the outside fills the air?


Will you bring a better gift for the world
Than the breathing respect that you carry
Wherever you go right now?  Are you waiting
For time to show you some better thoughts?


When you turn around, starting here, lift this
New glimpse that you found; carry into evening
All that you want from this day.  The interval you spent
Reading or hearing this, keep it for life -


When can anyone give you greater than now,
Starting here, right now in this room, when you turn around?


William Stafford


This poem was tucked into a book by May Sarton (House by the Sea) that a dear friend sent me as a present.  She loves this poem.  And I say:  how can you not love this poem?  The page she typed this on has been sitting on my dining room table for days now, shuffled here and there....  And I realized I wanted to "inscribe" it into my blog so that I wouldn't have to worry about how to hold on to this so impermanent piece of paper, so that I could return again and again to re-read this exquisitely simple and profound piece.
I have been hibernating lately in this grey winter time, attempting to dose myself with healthful remedies so that I can be strong and full of energy for my trip to Italy.  It is as though an old pattern was struggling to assert itself one more time, that pattern of getting sick before I'm about to travel afar, or do something big (like go on a one month silent retreat!)...  and it looks as though I saw this pattern coming and with some degree of kindness, greeted it, and then fed myself more tincture of esoteric herbs, more hot tea, more Chinese sizzling rice soup... and lo and behold, I think the gift was appreciated and the temporary "guest" is about to depart.  I love that poem of Rumi's called "The Guest," which speaks to greeting each and every event, both pleasant and unpleasant, with the same hospitality and ease.   To hold ourselves and all others with kindness, yes, this is part of the path....  And kindness begets kindness, doesn't it?  Obama's speech last night to the grieving citizens of Tucson talked of all of us being part of the same family, and because of that interweaving of our beings, the necessity for us to speak and act with genuine good will.  It was a healing speech, I felt, and my heart felt good to hear this young president who has been struggling rise to this place of dignity to point the way out of this landscape of divisiveness and ignorance.
Today I am grateful for William Stafford's poem, the mysterious workings of herbal remedies, the grayness outdoors that makes hibernation all the easier, for Obama's heartful words, for my beautiful cat Jackson who lays on my stomach and purrs every so quietly when I rest ...  Let us all find good rest during this dark winter, cease the doing and bring on the peace.