I have taught myself joy, over and over again.
It’s not such a wide gulf to cross, then,
from survival to poetry.
Barbara Kingsolver
Yesterday, as I was searching for a Sunday poem, I came across Barbara Kingsolver’s quotation about the necessity of teaching one’s self joy, a lifetime task as it turns out.
After all, joy, too, rides the wave of impermanence.
I think I knew that or at least had assumed it but assumptions are light weight, if they have any merit at all. Joy is full-bodied, serious in significance, its own gravity.
Is it the secret to survival? Maybe or maybe not. I think it is.
Crossing the gulf to poetry–whatever form that may take–is not a river too wide. Nothing grounds me like a poem. Nothing. It brings me to life right where I am; I survive only to learn all over again.
Sometimes the poetry of Sunday overflows into Monday. It is the teaching of joy.
Aim for Even posts offer equanimity a dose at a time. No day or dose is ever the same, even if the aim is. You may read about the origins of Aim for Even here or on this site’s About page.
Poetry is the language of emotions, and is a perfect way to express joy. Do you write poetry as well?
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In another lifetime I tried to write poetry, Craig, but my efforts fell short. Perhaps that has made me love poetry even more. I like to think so.
Karen
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