William Michaelian

Poems, Notes, and Drawings

A Hidden Life

What it comes down to, I suppose, is that most, if not all, of my behavior is neurotic. How could it be otherwise? I’m assaulted by the news of killings every day, of mass shootings and war; I’m exposed to incessant, unscrupulous advertising, noise, and to flashing, brightly lit screens; outdoors, I walk on concrete and asphalt, indoors on artificial flooring; I drive a car; I harvest most of my food from grocery store shelves; I’m cut off from the wonders of the night sky because of light pollution; I’m warmed not by fire, but by a furnace vent; and I bathe regularly, at my convenience, in water at the temperature of my own choosing. And how do I respond to all of this? I respond by collecting more books than I can possibly read, by writing every day, and by electronically publishing that writing, as if such activities were necessary and normal. I run in the dark, with no place to go and no mission involved. I exercise daily and mind what I eat. Most neurotic of all, I feel I have a positive outlook and a good sense of humor; and I’m thankful for my good fortune, and for being able to live such a life.

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Frost and a full moon — alphabetically speaking, of course.

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Read the eightieth, eighty-first, eighty-second, eighty-third, eighty-fourth, eighty-fifth, and eighty-sixth chapters of Middlemarchand the finale. Not that I’m any kind of judge, and while it’s also clear that I simply like what I like, I must say that I’m struck once again by such intelligent, insightful writing. A wonderful book.

The concluding paragraph:

Her finely touched spirit had still its fine issues, though they were not widely visible. Her full nature, like that river of which Cyrus broke the strength, spent itself in channels which had no great name on the earth. But the effect of her being on those around her was incalculably diffusive; for the growing good of the world is partly dependent on unhistoric acts; and that things are not so ill with you and me as they might have been, is half owing to the number who lived faithfully a hidden life, and rest in unvisited tombs.

October 29, 2023.

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[ 1911 ]

Categories: If It Had A Name

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