I can eat with gratitude and reverence, or I can thoughtlessly shovel it in. Either way, how I eat is how I live. If I eat thoughtlessly, my body will respond accordingly; we two will become coarse and crude, and be both cause and mirror of hunger and strife in the world. If I eat mindfully, and consume only what I need, the good food I eat will bring joy […]
After reading On the Eighth Day, the question I ask myself is this: If my writing could be turned into loaves of bread, and be given to hungry people, would I embrace that miracle, or would I want to keep the writing as it is and let the people starve? In other words, would I cling to the fleeting image of myself as a writer, even at the expense of […]
It’s been so long — I think of writing you today. Do you think of writing me? — And do you wonder what to say? So many letters set out this way — Like little rafts at sea — And we — Blind fishermen — Should Odysseus pass this way — Would he know us by our hunger — Or our bravery? Blind Fishermen. April 15, 2020. Poems, Notes, and […]
Until the robin ate the worm, he didn’t know he was hungry. And he asked himself, “Maybe this is wisdom?” . [ 1775 ]
Thirty-seven degrees. There was snow yesterday evening in hilly areas a few miles south, and hail here. Maybe this is why the robins haven’t returned to their unfinished nest in the rhododendron. A few smaller birds, though, have stopped to investigate. Otherwise, the weather continues to be rainy with cool daytime temperatures and brief intervals of sun. Our garden space is still muddy, and the soil hasn’t warmed enough to […]
Health, leisure, good fortune, and very modest means. Blueberries, and other transitory things. No desire to possess or own. Catkins and birch-bits. Sunflowers. Bees. Cucumbers. The spider in my hair, taken back outside. Aware — yes, aware — there are troubles in the world. Hunger. Suffering. Violence. Greed. Pain. Wildfire. Drought. Climate change. The poses we assume. The lies we tell. The games we play. Aware — yes, aware — […]
The grass seed farmers have started cutting their fields. The summer scent of drying grass is intense this morning, like childhood and death in one divine breath. The streets were so quiet during my run at four-thirty, it seemed the houses were all empty. I wonder how many times the world has ended today; I wonder how many times it will begin. While I was watering the hanging basket, the […]
Warm days, clear nights. The junco babies are frantic with hunger, and keeping both of their parents busy bringing food to the nest. The early-morning watering ceremony continues. Frantic, yes — but when evening comes all grows quiet and the birds sleep through the night, their tiny bodies resting and growing until dawn wakes them again. Circadian perfection will guide them all of their lives, while we torture and punish […]
When we expect or fear the worst, we increase the chance of it happening, and of making ourselves the instrument that helps bring it about. Observe; go into it carefully; the evidence is all around us. The same can be said of expecting the best. Of course, it’s worth asking if we can always, or even possibly, know what’s worst and best. The most sensible approach is to leave that […]
William Michaelian 