April 2012
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Silence
Sometimes we don’t say anything. Sometimes we sit on the deck and stare at the masses of goldenrod where the garden used to be and watch the color change form day to day, the high yellow turning to mustard and at last to tarnish. Starlings flitter in the branches of the dead hornbeam by the fence. And are these therefore the procedures of defeat? Why am I saying all this to you anyway since you...
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“Imagination has never been one of my strong points. Still, I tried to picture a...”
– Albert Camus | The Stranger
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Instructions
Give up the world; give up self; finally, give up God. Find god in rhododendrons and rocks, passers-by, your cat. Pare your beliefs, your absolutes. Make it simple; make it clean. No carry-on luggage allowed. Examine all you have with a loving and critical eye, then throw away some more. Repeat. Repeat. Keep this and only this: what your heart beats loudly for what feels heavy and full in your...
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“Nothing was, nothing will be; everything is, everything has existence and is...”
– Hermann Hesse | Siddharta
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Falling in Love is Like Owning a Dog
First of all, it’s a big responsibility, especially in a city like New York. So think long and hard before deciding on love. On the other hand, love gives you a sense of security: when you’re walking down the street late at night and you have a leash on love ain’t no one going to mess with you. Love doesn’t like being left alone for long. But come home and love is always happy to see you. It may...
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“He was taught by the river. Incessantly, he learned from it. Most of all, he...”
– Hermann Hesse | Siddharta
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The worst is behind me
The worst is behind me —I tell myself—I’m already old. The worst is yet to come, I’m still alive. But if you must know, I was happy. Sometimes a whole day, sometimes a whole hour. sometimes only a few minutes. That’s enough.
Jaroslav Seifert
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“Beautiful was this world, looking at it thus, without searching, thus simply,...”
– Hermann Hesse | Siddharta
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Love Song
Beloved, I have to adore the earth: The wind must have heard your voice once. It echoes and sings like you. The soil must have tasted you once. It is laden with your scent. The trees honor you in gold and blush when you pass. I know why the north country is frozen. It has been trying to preserve your memory. I know why the desert burns with fever. It was wept too long without you. On hands and...
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“Slowly blossomed, slowly ripened in Siddhartha the realisation, the knowledge,...”
– Hermann Hesse | Siddharta
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Wild Geese
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...
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