I feel I have to post something about today’s tragic events. My heart goes out to the parents and families whose little children are now dead, lost to them forever. There are no words for this tragedy, and no amount of words can bring back a dead 4, 5 or 6 year old. The empty hole of grief and loss will accompany a parent for the rest of his/her life, and for sure right now life itself is absolutely unbearable…
I picked up my own lovely 5 year old from school with a heavy heart, knowing that those parents have been robbed of this simple reuniting ritual, and robbed of their little child. I know there are no words, but poets sometimes know what to say to express the unbearable for the rest of us. I turn to the Auden poem I posted this week in relation to a discussion of death and funeral rituals. Here are the parts that pertain to today, written in April 1936:
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong…
The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
This poem has come to me often at different times of death and loss. “For nothing now can come to any good.” True hard words. What kind of world do we live in that such unspeakable acts can happen? Even before today, I have been asking myself this over the last several weeks. I admit part of this came from TV. I randomly watched several episodes of Oliver Stone’s Showtime tv documentary about the untold history of the united states, filled with footage of World War 2 and then a lot about the first atom bomb. I reflected a lot about these scenes and words. How human history is a long unending story of wars and killings and destruction. Hearing the narrative string together everything did not help to make any sense of this awful part of human nature. Even though we are not in World War 3, there is enough senseless killing and other unspeakable acts happening all over the world, in hot spots like the mid east, but also everywhere else, all the time, constantly, and today in Newtown, Connecticut.
There is no period in history that is not filled with the blood of innocents, no ethnicity or culture that is free of such evil. Whether in wars, each worse than the other, no matter where, or in “peaceful” nations such as ours, although we never seem to be free of killing our own and others somewhere usually far away: Korea, Vietnam, Cambodia, Afghanistan, Iraq, Pakistan, etc. I doubt there is ANY time in our nation’s history that is not like this.
I remember as a quite young child reading the Diary of Ann Frank and getting obsessed with her story and the tragedy and strangeness of her dying and her diary somehow surviving. A kind of triumph that her beautiful voice is there to be heard for the next generations; it is only through reading and other arts such as painting and music, that we are reminded that wonder still exists and some piece of goodness in some small place is shining through the constant darkness. For me, though my own preferred way of self expression is nonverbal painting, drawing and collage, I often turn to words and books for something, because of the paradox of the unspeakable and the miracle of words coming together in a simple poem or young girl’s diary that manage to express some hope for humankind…Or actually just put in words the horror of the endlessly destructive part of humanity we can’t seem to escape from, the very real hopelessness and unending emotional pain and suffering that is life in this world…
Over the summer a dear friend gave my daughter a wonderful children’s chapter book called “The BFG”, by Roald Dahl. Whatever age you are, read it soon! Suffice it to say without a long description of this great tale, there is a very instructive scene in which little Sophie, our heroine, is talking serious philosophy, ie. the strange awfulness of the nature of “human beans” with the Big Friendly Giant. I would like to end this post with that dialogue:
Sophie is lamenting the other bad giants’ endless killing and eating of humans when the BFG in his broken English reminds her,
I found this beautiful moving and inspirational poem on someone’s Facebook status on my personal Facebook feed and just loved it as it is so true. I posted it on my Tribeca Healing Arts Facebook page, but here on my blog I can reflect more than just requote the poem…
The writer captures the best in a human being, the important things in life that just are not easily “taught” the way writing, reading and math are taught. Interestingly, creative expression is an important element of this writer’s idea of how to strive to live in a loving, caring fashion but also loving oneself. As one five year old in Kindergarten has said, “And I love Me of course, because you have to love yourself!” as well as on her list of best friends (more than one as five year olds can handle being friends with several people and not want to “put them in an orderly list” starting with “best” friend, she says the people she loves as her best friends and either starts or ends with “and (her own name) of course because you are your own best friend!” Indeed, the world would be a much more beautiful place to live in if only we could take what we learned in Kindergarten as the Foundation for true happiness and truly be on the path to a “life well lived.” There is spirituality all over this beautiful poem with no mention of any religion or deity, as we can live peacefully and lovingly if we truly carry with us these things that we learned so long ago…
It’s the last sentence that gets me the most, “Be aware of Wonder.” Wonder is indeed something to hold on tight to, as it can be one of your best friends throughout your life and will serve you at all moments of living. Well, I am biased about the value of wonder; not for nothing “Alice in Wonderland” is probably my favorite book which I have reread throughout my life. (Last reading was this summer in July on my vacation.)
All I Really Need To Know I Learned In Kindergarten
by Robert Fulghum
To know about how to live
And what to do and how to be
I learned in kindergarten.
Wisdom was not at the top
Of the graduate school mountain,
But there in the sandpile at Sunday school.These are the things I learned:Share everything.
Don’t hit people.
Put things back where you found them.
Clean up your own mess.
Don’t take things that aren’t yours.
Say you’re sorry when you hurt somebody.
Wash your hands before you eat.
Warm cookies and cold milk are good for you.
Live a balanced life –
Learn some and think some
And draw and paint and sing and dance
And play and work everyday some.
Take a nap every afternoon.
When you go out into the world,
Watch out for traffic,
Hold hands and stick together.
Be aware of wonder.