The world's a sage . . .
It's a Satyr's day . . . a true friend of Dionysus, dancing with Spring in Okieland.
Yesterday was the 204th anniversary of Maine joining the union, leading to the survival of our democracy. – Heather Cox Richardson.
“If it could have been solved with words, it would have been solved already...There is something else within us…” – Cynthia Bourgeault, opening the Metapmorphosis Forum on Contemplative-based social change: An alternative to the negative bias in our reptilian brains and in journalism. A video summary report from the Garrison Institute. Worth your time.
‘All the world’s a stage’ is not just a Shakespearian metaphor. It's also the truth about the how, where, and even the when of our public and private lives. – Lucy McDonald writing for Aeon in The Magic of the Mundane, 15 March 2024.
The imperfect beauty of wabi-sabi.
Debra Ponemon, this morning, applied wabi-sabi to walking the nobel path for the answer to the question “Why does stuff happen?”
In Kenneth Branagh's film adaptation of Shakespeare's "Much Ado About Nothing" (1993), Beatrice, played by Emma Thompson, recites a poem to open the film, setting the tone for the story. Branagh's film is known for its faithful adaptation of Shakespeare's play, and the opening with Beatrice reciting the poem is one of the many elements that captures the essence of the original work, notwithstanding he uses the original speech by Balthazar (a male) which appears later in the Shakespeare text. Purposeful wabi-sabi if ever there was one. – with Chat/GTP assistance.
(from Much Ado About Nothing – film version opening by Beatrice)
Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more.
Men were deceivers ever,
One foot in sea, and one on shore,
To one thing constant never.
Then sigh not so, but let them go,
And be you blithe and bonny,
Converting all your sounds of woe
Into hey nonny, nonny.
The Ides have infinite edges . . .
It's Frey's day … Brisk Northerlies have returned to Okieland, reminding us that Spring is still unfolding . . .
It's the birthday of Ruth Bader Ginsburg. The U.S. Supreme Court Justice was born today in1933, Brooklyn, New York. https://www.history.com/topics/womens-history/ruth-bader-ginsburg
Today marks The Ides of March, about which Shakespeare was prompted to say we were to “beware.” It was on this day, in 44 B.C., that Caesar was assassinated by a group of about 60 conspirators. Which probable gave the idea to The Bard.
It's the 106th birthday of biographer Richard Ellmann, born in 1918 Highland Park, Michigan. He wrote biographies of Yeats, Joyce, and Oscar Wilde.
In 1956 the musical My Fair Lady opened on Broadway. An unknown Julie Andrews had to be convinced to audition for the role of Eliza. She starred with Rex Harrison, and the Broadway musical ran for more than 2,700 performances.
Yesterday was the 145th anniversary of Albert Einstein's birth. The physicist/mathematician was born on this day in 1879 Ulm, Germany.
Also, yesterday, bookseller and publisher Sylvia Beach was born 137 years ago. The founder of Shakespeare and Company bookstore in Paris was born in 1887 Baltimore, Maryland.
And yesterday was Pi day … hope your celebration was infinite.
We make facing reality difficult. We are not human beings on The Way toward Spirit; we are already spiritual beings on a journey toward becoming fully human, which for some reason seems harder—precisely because it is so ordinary. – Richard Rohr at CAC. A reminder: Many find the “God” terms Fr. Rohr uses – he is Franciscan “not yet defrocked” (his quote) – loaded with the baggage of history's blunders in the name of Christianity. I'm among them. I do find, however, that substituting the term “creation” or “The Way” (of Lao Tzu) often opens helpful insights. And, while I've not inquired of Richard, I'm fairly certain my edit would not offend him. Hope the same holds for you.
The Edge You Carry with You
You know / so very well / the edge / of darkness
you have / always carried with you /
… What is this / beguiling reluctance /
to be happy?
– David Whyte, in Still Possible, Many Rivers Press; Unabridged edition (January 1, 2022)
[There is] no cure for the facts of life . . .
It's Odin's Day … Strong Southerlies here in TulseyTown are blowing more jetsam into the mailbox this morning … as Colorado prepares for a major snowstorm on the front range.
It's only absurd when I try to make sense of it:
Homo sapiens – us – have been around for at least 350,000 years, hominids three-and-a-half million.
AI's extinction possibilities appear to be increasing and likely to be ignored . . .
Four years ago Monday, shortly after Noon Eastern time … The true Covid toll ...
The best four-sentence answer to the question “why poetry?” I've read yet:
“One afternoon in the summer of 1994 I was driving to work and I heard Garrison Keillor read Stephen Dunn’s poem ‘Tenderness’ on The Writer’s Almanac. After he finished the poem I pulled my car over and sat for some time. I had to. That is why I write poems. I want to make somebody else late for work.” – Erik Campbell online at Rattle, March 12, 2024.
When I begin to doubt that I have what it takes to stay present with impermanence, egolessness, and suffering, it uplifts me to remember Trungpa Rinpoche’s cheerful reminder that there is no cure for hot and cold. There is no cure for the facts of life. – Pema Chödrön
Twilight Comes
… At winter's end ...The mountains
From their place behind our shoulders
Lean close a moment, as if for a
Final inspection, but with kindness,
A benediction as the darkness
Falls ... I tilt my head to study the last
Silvery light of the western sky
In the pine boughs. I smile. Then
I smile again, just because I can.
I am not an old man. Not yet.
– from "Twilight Comes" by Hayden Carruth, in Collected Shorter Poems 1946-1991. © Copper Canyon Press, 1992.