"I’ve come to believe you can say a whole lot of what appears to be nothing, but if you get the rhythm just right it can be enough." <--- This is basically my entire newsletter, haha 😂
The thing I always appreciate about Mary Oliver is how she distilled such beauty from tremendous pain. How can a person who survived that kind of childhood grow up to write as she did? It makes her poetry even more powerful for me.
I suspect rhythm is why I always read my writing out loud to myself repeatedly before I finalize it. It's also why I love Mary's poetry. I can imagine her reading it out loud to me. Poetry is meant to be heard, I think, and not simply read on the page, so it's inherent rhythm can be felt.
There's a line from a song 'The rhythm of life is a powerful beat...' and I believe if we surrender to that rhythm it can be the most perfect thing we could do for ourselves. But being humans, we're constantly bending the rhythm out of shape to fit into what we believe is a necessary routine.
If however, we can meld both, an intertwining of gentle purpose and mindfulness, then I reckon we might be spot on. It's giving ourselves permission to illuminate purpose with uncomplicated moments of great beauty.
I'm not sure I'm making sense - so here's an example. My dog needs walking every day. I need to walk to slow down and breathe. In that combined purpose, I find moments of great beauty - watching dolphins arc along a winter wave break, finding a weedy piece of coral in amongst washed up seawrack. Feeling the breeze teasing my hair and with it smelling the scent of the sea. And all because the dog needed walking.
The city overpowers, smothers natural rhythm with noise and city spume. Give me an island, a shore, water, birds, trees and a dog that needs walking any day.
Thank you for prompting my grey matter... Best wishes.
"I’ve come to believe you can say a whole lot of what appears to be nothing, but if you get the rhythm just right it can be enough." <--- This is basically my entire newsletter, haha 😂
The thing I always appreciate about Mary Oliver is how she distilled such beauty from tremendous pain. How can a person who survived that kind of childhood grow up to write as she did? It makes her poetry even more powerful for me.
I suspect rhythm is why I always read my writing out loud to myself repeatedly before I finalize it. It's also why I love Mary's poetry. I can imagine her reading it out loud to me. Poetry is meant to be heard, I think, and not simply read on the page, so it's inherent rhythm can be felt.
There's a line from a song 'The rhythm of life is a powerful beat...' and I believe if we surrender to that rhythm it can be the most perfect thing we could do for ourselves. But being humans, we're constantly bending the rhythm out of shape to fit into what we believe is a necessary routine.
If however, we can meld both, an intertwining of gentle purpose and mindfulness, then I reckon we might be spot on. It's giving ourselves permission to illuminate purpose with uncomplicated moments of great beauty.
I'm not sure I'm making sense - so here's an example. My dog needs walking every day. I need to walk to slow down and breathe. In that combined purpose, I find moments of great beauty - watching dolphins arc along a winter wave break, finding a weedy piece of coral in amongst washed up seawrack. Feeling the breeze teasing my hair and with it smelling the scent of the sea. And all because the dog needed walking.
The city overpowers, smothers natural rhythm with noise and city spume. Give me an island, a shore, water, birds, trees and a dog that needs walking any day.
Thank you for prompting my grey matter... Best wishes.