Remembering we have it in us
A dear friend e-mailed to share her thoughts on Jason Shindler’s poem “Living,” which I posted last Thursday:
“Just that it sounded like hope, stupid hope.” Let me share with you my Easter reflection:
The older I get, the less I know. Heck, when I was in my twenties, I had a formula to save the world; today, I’m afraid all I have are questions. I’ve stumbled more often than succeeded. But I pick myself up anyway in the stubborn hope I will be prepared for the next curveball. This much then I know » Hope triumphs. And life, as difficult or humdrum or sad it may be, and for all the complex science to it, is an awesome gift that lets you restart anytime you’re ready.
Happy Easter. . . .
Thank you and happy Easter to you, my friend. Thanks, too, to rudyoldeschulte and bourbakiaxiom and to all of you who have been so kind to like, reblog, or comment on my posts this month. Rudy recommends Sven Birkerts’s The Other Walk, a book of essays. I’ve read an excerpt, which confirms this is the kind of writing that takes me to “the beautiful trail.” For all of us who continue to walk and stumble and hope and restart any way we can, here’s the last sentence of the book’s first essay:
And yes, I did think, right then, that spring does have its own special character, unlike any other time, and that part of what happens in spring is remembering we have it in us to surprise ourselves—things do come fresh again.