Oh the Things We Miss Because We Aren't Looking

Some days I hit "Publish" on a blog post and I wish I had taken longer to work on it. There are some that explored topics I will likely explore more fully in the future because they didn't get the time or the quality that they deserved. Thursday's post was one of those.

Here is the poem that provided some of the inspiration for that post:

Wild Geese by Mary Oliver

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.

Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting–
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

Simple, Elegant, Beautiful

In the year that the Nazis invaded Poland, physicists confirmed the process of splitting atoms, John Steinbeck's "Grapes of Wrath" was published and "Gone with the Wind" dominated the Academy Awards, we were also given the gift of "Moonlight Serenade" by Glenn Miller. The epitome of big band music, it's romantic, light, fun, happy music that makes you want to hold your partner close and dance across the floor. It brings to mind images of finely dressed men and women at tables smoking cigarettes and drinking martinis as they listen to Mr Miller.  Enjoy.

In 1965 one of the coolest men to ever walk the planet put lyrics to Miller's masterpiece. Frank Sinatra romances us with his version of "Moonlight Serenade".

And one more before we part. Something that may seem very different, but I don't see it that way.  

The Incomparable Maya Angelou

Before we begin, you must promise me something.  Promise me that you will read to the very end of this post.  You will not regret it - not because of any eloquence on my part but because of the awesomeness that is Maya Angelou.

 

The Lesson

I keep on dying again.
Veins collapse, opening like the
Small fists of sleeping
Children.
Memory of old tombs,
Rotting flesh and worms do
Not convince me against
The challenge. The years
And cold defeat live deep in
Lines along my face.
They dull my eyes, yet
I keep on dying,
Because I love to live. 

I love this poem by the beautiful Maya Angelou.  It's about hope and joy that is deep in your soul and not dependent on things we see with our eyes.  There's a saying that "seeing is believing". That is true of some things.  But i think that often we have to believe something in order to see it.  There's plenty of crap all around us but there is beauty and inspiration everywhere as well, it just isn't as obvious.  We have to look for it - external to ourselves as well as internally.  

The last two lines of this poem - "I keep on dying, Because I love to live" - have a slightly different message.  We do die when we love to live because loving life requires opening ourselves up to really experiencing life, which requires vulnerability.  And because the world is not perfect and people are human, we will inevitably die inside from time to time.  There's another saying that "Grief is the price of love".  It's true.  When we love, when we put ourselves out there and allow ourselves to really enjoy life, we are setting ourselves up to be hurt eventually.  But it's completely worth it because of the richness of life that we gain by seizing it and immersing ourselves in it.

In case you haven't heard Ms Angelou's story, you can read it here, on her own web site.  


Now, the promised jewel at the end of this post.  Maya reciting her poem "And Still I Rise".  Maya rocks!
 

 

 

Such is the mindset of Brandy at the beginning of our story.  Such is the mindset of many victims of mental and emotional abuse.  They don't want anyone to see their pain because pain and tears indicate weakness and because no one would believe them anyway.  No one would believe them because mental and emotional abuse don't leave visible scars.  The victim has no proof.  They don't even know it's abuse because at some point they began believing the things their abuser says about them.  They think they really are worthless and weak.  They believe they are a poor excuse for a wife or husband, mother or father.  They think they deserve to be treated the way they are treated.

Brandy was married to a mentally and emotionally abusive man.  She denied her anger, even to herself, during her marriage.  Years later, she is just beginning to acknowledge it and our story is about her facing her anger and refusing to let it continue controlling her. 

She begins to heal and move on with her life after falling in love with Scott.  He is not her savior though.  He is her lover and a true friend.  He shows her the beauty he sees inside her.  When she feels powerless and is tempted to quit trying he makes her dig down deep and find the strength she has buried.  Scott doesn't save Brandy.  He helps her save herself.