Week 1 2020: The Thread

It has been several weeks since my last blog post, and my well of thoughts has been covered over with a wet leafy mat of holiday activity and future planning. I’m not quite sure what I want to say. I feel like I ought to make it good, this being 2020 and all, and not having written in a while. Ah well, I’ll just get started and see what comes out.

It has been almost exactly a year since my first blog post “an experiment in progress”. I just reread it and rather like it. It pondered what future me would wish that current me were doing differently. I imagined that future me would want current me to write more, and to make more of a sustained and successful effort to prioritize doing the things I keep wanting to do for my own sake but don’t.  

Well, I have been writing more, and find that the more regularly I sit down to do it, the more I miss it when I don’t. I feel more attuned to my inner self when I’m writing than speaking for some reason. So many layers of reserve and muddlement and watching for others’ reactions when saying things out loud to people. I’m proud of myself for regularly making the time to go for nature walks, take photos and write last year, and I have this blog to thank for that. I shall endeavor to keep it up.

I have made one enormous rather scary leap in the “prioritize something I want to do for my own sake” category. It’s my big squiggle. I got approval from my boss and his boss to take a 4 ½ month sabbatical from work this year – from late April through early September – and approval from my family to journey on my own in May. The dutiful, responsible part of me feels incredibly guilty. The longing part of me is thrilled beyond words. The supportive response from my family, coworkers and friends means the world to me.

There is so much that I want to do with this time, both alone and with my family, that I feel embarrassed even bringing it up. And I read that telling people you plan to do something makes you less likely to do it. And some of it is likely crazy given my poor physical condition and history of back problems. But the thread of longing tugs me forwards and I shall follow for once (and endeavor to train!). I am busy making arrangements and might say more once things are more settled. In fact, once I start talking, I’ll probably be hard to shut up.

For now, I’ll just say that my hopes are very much in line with my goals from a year ago – to become strong and fit, awake and courageous and grateful, and to have a long stint of nature hermit-y refuge. And also, to fulfill my longstanding desire to enjoy a summer off with my family before they scatter.

This poem by William Stafford has come to mind quite often throughout this process:

The Way It Is

There’s a thread you follow. It goes among
things that change. But it doesn’t change.
People wonder about what you are pursuing.
You have to explain about the thread.
But it is hard for others to see.
While you hold it you can’t get lost.
Tragedies happen; people get hurt
or die; and you suffer and get old.
Nothing you do can stop time’s unfolding.
You don’t ever let go of the thread.

I can’t say what future me will think of my actions this year, but I am following my thread. They say it is better to live your own life imperfectly than someone else’s perfectly. I guess I’ll find out!

In searching for the poem online, I found the Monday poem blog and learned that William Stafford taught Naomi Shihab Nye, author of one of my favorite ever poems “Kindness”. (Also, Stafford wrote this poem less than a month before he died.) Nye had this to say about Stafford:

 “In our time there has been no poet who revived human hearts and spirits more convincingly than William Stafford. There has been no one who gave more courage to a journey with words, and silence, and an awakened life.”

Naomi Shihab Nye

A journey with words, and silence, and an awakened life. How perfectly worded.

I was fretting over the fact that I don’t have a great photo to post this week, but now know that I have. I visited the Philadelphia Museum of Art last week with the kids, while we were enjoying a wonderful visit with Dorian’s family in the area. It’s an incredible museum full of impressive paintings and architecture (including a Japanese tea house and Spanish monastic courtyard!). I could have easily spent an entire day there on my own. I really liked the Monet landscapes with cliffs and trees. But of everything there, this Rembrandt painting lingers particularly. I love Rembrandt. His portrait subjects are always so quiet and real and full of interior life. This one is no exception, and speaks to my current pensive mood.

There are so many things to wish for in 2020 and the decade to come. But at the moment my hermit side is ascendent, and I’ll go with courage for a journey with words, and silence, and an awakened life. Cherishing family and friends, good health, and solving the problems of the world would be good, too!