"THANKS" BY W. S. MERWIN

Today is Sunday.  I usually go to church, but today we did not.  My back kept me home.  The idea of hopping in the car in the cold, getting to early service on time, then up and down, sitting, standing and kneeling, wasn't a happy thought.  Staying in has been good. 

 
Sitting by the fire with a heating pad and cups of tea, I reread a poem that, although written nearly forty years ago, is timeless.  Well, good poetry is, isn't it.  "Thanks," by W. W. Merwin (1927-2019) is amazingly prescient of today, a day in which the Ukranians, the Israelis and Palestinians, we ourselves, and many others across the globe are suffering.  Suffering, yet want to give thanks and prepare for the Holy Days of whatever faith is ours.  

"Thanks" was published in 1988, but it could have been written yesterday. Merwin's depiction of gratitude goes far beyond the usual, but I suspect that we can identify with the need to broaden our thankfulness in in the midst of tragedy, violence and chaos.  We almost have to, if we're going to be thankful at all.

The poem begins with a word any speaker might say: "Listen . . . ."   The first stanza isn't too surprising.  As night falls and we look at the water, we give thanks (S1).  But after that, the details change, and thankfulness becomes more challenging.  The reality of our weaknesses and strengths are parsed.  

                 

Thanks
Listen
with the night falling we are saying thank you
we are stopping on the bridge to bow from the railings
we are running out of the glass rooms
with our mouths full of food to look at the sky
and say thank you
we are standing by the water looking out
in different directions

back from a series of hospitals back from a mugging
after funerals we are saying thank you
after the news of the dead
whether or not we knew them we are saying thank you
in a culture up to its chin in shame
living in the stench it has chosen we are saying thank you

over telephones we are saying thank you
in doorways and in the backs of cars and in elevators
remembering wars and the police at the back door
and the beatings on stairs we are saying thank you
in the banks that use us we are saying thank you
with the crooks in office with the rich and fashionable
unchanged we go on saying thank you thank you

with the animals dying around us
our lost feelings we are saying thank you
with the forests falling faster than the minutes
of our lives we are saying thank you
with the words going out like cells of a brain
with the cities growing over us like the earth
we are saying thank you faster and faster
with nobody listening we are saying thank you
we are saying thank you and waving
dark though it is 
(1988) 

The poem overlays realistic detail with the generosity of unconditional thanks, an old-fashioned praise poem of tribute or gratitude. But here we are grateful not only when running out to look at the sky with mouths full of food(S1), but also after funerals and hospital visits and muggings (S2). One of the most powerful lines is "in a culture up to its chin in shame / living in the stench it has chosen we are saying thank you." (S2) How did the poet foresee our dysfunctional government, the violence against Jews and Muslims both, the necessity for #Me Too and #Black Lives Matter, the war against trans children?  

In S3 he says that we remember beatings on stairs, the police at the door, and wars and say "thank you."  He writes, "[W] ith the crooks in office with the rich and fashionable / unchanged we go on saying thank you thank you."  With the forests being stripped and the earth covered in asphalt (S4) we say thank you.   

I don't think we are meant to feel foolish for saying thank you midst injustice--illness, muggings, political shame, environmental destruction.  Rather, it is in our nature to find the good and praise it.  Didn't we all just find gratitude in our hearts this Thanksgiving?  And will again during Advent and on Christmas.  We are thankful for those who heal us and for teachers, for surviving natural and human-caused catastrophes, for our soldiers, for those who visit us in our valleys, for hostages returned and prisoners freed, and finally for the burial of the very bodies we love.   That we find something for which to be thankful in these situations, I think is what the poem means. 

So, this Sunday was good.  Poetry, serious thoughts, a worthwhile way to spend a day. I hope you have days that feel that way too.  Best wishes, Nina Naomi







 

IT'S CHRISTMAS, LET IT GO

It's never too late to let something go, is it?  As we shop online and in stores and ponder all the complexities of the holidays, I'm thinking we'll have more lightness in our hearts if we let go of a few things.  Jettisoning some things is crucial to our well-being; some we ought to let go of are serious or self-defeating; some are plain useless and some just inconvenient.  But each takes a commitment to let go.  Here's my quick list of what I'd like to leave behind.  I bet our lists aren't that much different:

Fearing what the future holds

Spending excessive time looking at my phone

Desiring more things

Dwelling on the past

Rushing through life

Complaining

Ignoring my inner voice

Feeling entitled

Expecting the worst

Needing to control

Needing to be right

Being uncomfortable with not knowing

Believing I am too old

Not liking my body

Getting involved in gossip

Helplessness

Judging others

If I can get rid of just a few of these, it will be a HAPPY HOLIDAY for sure. 

 

GENTLE THINGS

 

GENTLE THINGS 

• the first and last light of the day
• the last turning leaves of the season
• a bone china teacup and saucer from an antique shop
• the safe and cozy energy of gathered friends
• waking gradually
• a clear sign that you're on the right path
• wonderful kitchen smells of food cooking
• shadows, on the wall, under the trees; deep rich shadows
• sunlight streaming, its warmth felt in your bones
• your lightly snoring (or purring) pet
• that special look from the one you love
• the beginning of your favorite season
• cozy clean sheets after a warm shower
• a tender clean body to hold
• entering a friend's home for a visit
• open windows, fresh air
• your favorite clothes for around the house, soft from washing
• cashmere sweaters and gloves
• looking at your past with a sympathetic eye
• [add more, and more . . . ]

Nina Naomi

WHERE BETHLEHEM LIES

 Have mercy on us Lord,

And hear our solemn prayer.

We come to hear your living word;

It saves us from despair. 

These are the words of the hymn we sang this Sunday.  As we sang, I hoped that God's Word would save us from despair.  There is much to despair of these days. 

For so long we've been thinking of the Ukranians.  We have no trouble sorting good from evil in that war.  Now we have something more complex.  People switch from anger to grief and back again.  There are no simple answers, maybe no realistic answers at all. As we await Advent and the countdown to Christ's birth, we cannot help but grieve.  Not only for the Israelis killed wantonly on Oct 7, but also for Gazan children killed randomly today. 

Bethlehem lies less than 10 miles south of the city of Jerusalem.  Jerusalem is only 62 miles from Gaza.  We will be singing carols about the little town of Bethlehem but the disconnect between Christ's birth there and the advanced warfare of today sickens the heart. Tensions between the Palestinians and Israel date back decades, but tensions is not the word to use anymore.  On October 7th over 1,200 Jews of all ages were butchered.  Over 240 were taken hostage.  Since that date over 11,000 Palestinians have been killed, most of them women and children.  The number grows daily.  Some premature babies who need medical care are surviving evacuation, some are not. What is left behind is rubble.  Pictures from Ukraine and from Gaza look the same. 

I am not an ethicist or a historian, but I expect they have no more or better answers than the rest of us.  "Thoughts and prayers" has become a platitude.  Politicians use it after mass shootings as the rest of us wait for the next one.   

With the Holy Land a war zone, I wonder if anyone else feels like it will take extra effort this year to picture a baby born on a silent night in Bethlehem. 

One thing that we can hope for is that as the days march on to Christmas, the Lord will enter our minds and hearts and help us bear the sinful world in which we live. That has happened before.  We've had wars before.  We can ask the Almighty to be with the innocents--in their death shrouds, in hiding or held hostage, or digging through the wreckage--whether they pray to God, Jehovah or Allah. Mired in the world, we have often been lifted up to find gratitude and praise.  

I don't know what to expect.  But let us hope together for God's mercy and his Word to save us from despair.  

Old Mission Santa Ines, CA 1804
A Place to Pray

WHAT IS THE PAST FOR YOU?

Here is a question I came across:  

Is the past an asset or a liability for you?

This definitely got me thinking.  Why?  Because our past never leaves us.  It informs our present more than anything else.  How we were raised, whether we felt loved, what experiences we survived, of what we are proud and of what ashamed.  A long list.  Our past lasts all the way up to this morning.   

And another reason:  we are part of the past of others.  Is our contribution to their life an asset or liability?  I've never exactly thought of it that way before. 

In general, I'd say my childhood is a plus.  We were truly last-century middle class.  Went to public schools, owned a falling-down-well-loved house, lived payday to payday--all the cliches.  My dad started college the year I did; he worked all day and went to class at night.  My mom taught school.  They both loved me till the day they died.

I could have begun differently, however.  I could admit that for a time my dad drank too much and all that entails; that as a newlywed with two babies, not realizing what my mom was dealing with, I was too hard on her.  A different picture, including my own insensitivity. But I seldom think of it that way.  It's all in how we construe things, isn't it?  

A colleague was mistreated as a child.  Then she became a professor and a feminist and a help to many.  Would she have achieved so much without the drive to overcome her past?  If someone grew up without enough to eat and became an advocate for the poor because of that, was their impoverished past an asset? Someone else I know was raised in a loving home with nothing lacking.  This person has now overcome an addiction that began early on.  Might a life of privilege have fostered a sense of entitlement that contributed to these failures?  Or are they unrelated?  Is the past asset or liability?  I think this person would say asset, that the past provided the character to overcome the addiction. 

Or perhaps most of us would say both, times that lead to despair and times that produce strength.  We know that traumatic pasts can give rise to post-traumatic growth--positive psychological changes that result from highly challenging situations. The most dreaded losses, for example, can inform an appreciation for life.  Personal growth is in fact common after overcoming hard situations. People who have been tested are wonderful people.    

An asset is something valuable, not necessarily a synonym for good.  A liability is a disadvantage, not necessarily a synonym for something bad. A moneyed past, for instance, can be an asset or a liability.  Combine these thoughts with the gift of forgiveness for great wrongs as a path toward peace.  Not condonation, but a decision to forego revenge.  There's no eye-for-an-eye in forgiveness.  Certainly, my mother forgave my father the years he drank.  He lived to 94 and was sober the last 45 years of his life.   We should forgive sins (even our own).  I have, and I hope to have been forgiven in return.  

Each of us is a part of many people's pasts.  Children, neighbors, friends, even strangers.  I would like to bring value to each life that I touch, although I am certain that I have not. A smile or kind world or compliment, simple eye contact, can make a morning better.  A harsh word or ignoring someone can affect their mood and even self-esteem.  In a parking lot incident, an angry driver called me a name.  It took a deep breath to remind myself that the driver had the problem, not me.  But for that moment I felt diminished.  This ugly event is now part of my past.  Can I make it an asset somehow?  

These are observations.  I don't have a moral or conclusion or advice.  Often our thoughts, like life, cannot be tied into a bow.  Nothing wrong with that.  

                                                                   Nina Naomi

   

 

EVERYDAY SAYINGS AND THOUGHTS

An Everyday Wonder

 Just a Few Everyday Sayings, Ideas and Thoughts

Taking care of yourself doesn't mean me first, it means me too.

There's a sunrise and a sunset every single day.  They're absolutely free.  Don't miss so many of them. 

A quiet nook and a book--good for the mind, body, heart and spirit.

Fire warms us, feeds us, illuminates us and bewitches us.  Fire doesn't just set the mood.  Fire is the mood. 

Let your children see you slow down, because when they grow up, they'll know how to slow down too. 

A tiny red-capped mushroom spent all night pushing its way up through the leaf litter to surprise me this morning.  I bet the blue berry-like seed cones on the red cedar tree are meant to please me too.   Finding joy in little things is not crazy.  

A key to slow living is not to think about what has to be done next.  Ahh . . . 

Care of the soul never ends.

We don't need to find meaning in everything. 

Don't mistake knowledge for wisdom.  One helps you make a living.  The other helps you make a life. 

The ordinary acts we practice at home every day are more important to the soul than their simplicity might suggest. 

To have real conversations with people, to be open in speaking and hearing, involves courage and risk. 

Dawn is a good time to remember who you are. 

The Sacred Space, Summerland, CA

"GLIMMERS ARE THE OPPOSITE OF TRIGGERS," bella GRACE Field Guide

 

Crafting at night

Look, here are some writing prompts I found.  I think they're great.  See what you think.

• "Glimmers are the opposite of triggers; they're small moments that never fail to spark joy in our hearts.  What are your glimmers?" ( bella GRACE  Field Guide)   This one is special to me because I do have triggers.  Maybe we all do, or most of us, of different strengths.   A brief one came my way yesterday when a place that holds bad memories was mentioned.  I crossed my fingers--my own little trigger-management reminder--and went on.  But I never thought about glimmers as their opposite.  I'm going to look for mine and try to call them up when I need a bit of happiness.  Maybe a glimmer can punch an ugly trigger in the nose!  I'm feeling pretty hopeful about this idea.

• "The 'Sunday Scaries' is a feeling most people deal with.  You feel dread for the week ahead and all its tasks . . . ." (also bella GRACE Field Guide)  I definitely remember this dread from my early practice of law--all I still needed to learn to face the week as a new lawyer.  The only way around was to work on Sundays--the best solution for me (maybe) but certainly not for everyone.   The writing prompt is, "What are all the good things that come with the start of a new week?"  Why didn't I think of that then?  A new week is like a new day, a fresh start.  Maybe we need to face the same old obstacles, but it's a chance to face them in a new way.  Answer the prompt yourself.  See if it helps. 

• At the end of the day, what was one perfect moment from today?  The day I saw this prompt was a day my younger grandson called and wanted to really talk.  He had taken a bus trip with a friend and they went to a museum.  I won't see him till Christmas, but each phone call--and there are more than I had hoped for--qualifies.   Earlier this week we got an invitation to Thanksgiving dinner from our daughter-in-law--another day, another perfect moment.  I bet you have many too.  But it's nice to recognize them and name them.   Kind of like money in the bank.

• What are the little things that add more to your life?  I think one point of this prompt is that once you think of these little things, then seek them out and do them more often.  Your list will be as long as mine, so I'll just list a few:  blogging, an afternoon nap, a new tea flavor. 

• Why might we send a handwritten letter of note?  This prompt makes me nostalgic.  I could only think of a couple of reasons, the main one being someone might want something lovely and personal from us to keep.  I know that I enjoy rereading letters and cards from my mom.  I love to see her beautiful Courgette font handwriting.  Children of her generation practiced their letters in cursive.  Wouldn't we like to create something for the future?  I'd like to give and receive something that shows care.  We could think of it this way:  children love cards for their birthdays, Halloween, Christmas.  What child wants an email?  We can, for the moment, be like children. 

• It you could spend your life as someone else, who would it be and why?   What's so reassuring about this prompt is that most if not all of us wouldn't want to be someone else at all.  Even with our troubles, we'd rather keep our own than borrow new or unknown ones.  So once we answer, "I wouldn't want to spend my life as anyone but me," the interesting part is why.  All the reasons.  Maybe "I love my family, I wouldn't want a different spouse, I wouldn't really want to be famous."  We begin thinking about what we would lose as someone else rather than what we might gain.   

• And lastly, again from bella GRACE, certain activities feel like a balm to the soul.  Everyday worries lift and you stay completely in the moment.  "What activities soothe your soul?"  I put being at the beach as #1.  I've noticed that I sing or hum as a walk by the water. Then #2 working in my yard, and #3 collage journaling.  But there are more.   Working on a list of good things is always healthy, it just has to be.  

Santa Barbara Harbor

                                                                                                        From Nina Naomi