"There is ecstasy
in paying attention.
You can get into a kind of
to the world,
where you see in everything
the essence of holiness."
Anne Lamott, writer
relating to or characteristic of the English poet William Wordsworth or his works.
"this form of Wordsworthian reverence for nature was immensely influential in American life"
a student or admirer of the English poet William Wordsworth or his works.
"even Wordsworthians are cautious in commenting on the poem
How brilliant a life must be to have a word made up around your name and have everyone naturally connect the dots, right?
If you have been reading along with me of late, my last post was turned entirely over to the loss of a friend; a friend gone way too soon.
This Lamott quote, leading the day, is a good one, for it encapsulates my immediate shift to see in everything the essence of holiness because that is just what happens. Every moment is suspended in time and place, to grasp its pure beauty, capture its essence, and breathe in its holiness; and all I can wonder -- just how long this Wordsworthian feeling is going to last?
My Heart Leaps Up by William Wordsworth
My heart leaps up when I behold
A rainbow in the sky:
So was it when my life began;
So is it now I am a man;
So be it when I shall grow old,
Or let me die!
The Child is father of the Man;
And I could wish my days to be
Bound each to each by natural piety
I know the ridiculousness of life will seep back in, like tales of our creepy Uncle Joe -- there is that.
And just like that, we're back to the sleazy business, multiple personalities, reckless reality of politics, political correctness, principles or the lack thereof...and just maybe, some twisted combination of all.
Any essence of holiness in any of it? um, that would be a resounding, no.
'Tis the season to use whatever tools, history, video, one can muster to change minds and sway loyalties, right?
The thing is, what's truly creepy is the timing of these "new" revelations, when quite honestly, are years in the making. [And that Vox article, linked above, does a splendid job in explaining it.]
We've all joked about Joe being Joe -- but now, oh my gosh -- now -- as if his behavior has suddenly taken a turn, Joe just being Joe is now just too creepy to overlook anymore; his political holiness, notwithstanding. I mean, we're talking past Vice President to President Obama; like, he was next in line to the crown with every whisper in the ear, every kiss to the back of the head or popped, smack, straight on the kisser. It's just Joe being Joe.
But I have to say -- not one woman seemed all that upset at the time; not one woman stepped back, away for good ole Joe, landing a decent slap to the face in a proper, timely turn. No. All the women seemed to be smiling, almost enjoying the sweet, personal attention from the senior statesman.
Perhaps I just don't get this hashtag drama of late, this #metoo movement...
For -- if I were in charge of the world of this hashtag -- I would be upset that some women are twisting their truth, and basically usurping the hashtag for nothing more than personal gain, to amass their fifteen minutes of fame -- or, with more devious motives in mind, aim to totally upend a political career, even if such a career is already forty years strong.
I would just be sick about it.
How dare these women reduce the seriousness of real sexual assault to a tactic.
Perhaps the truth of Biden's actions lands somewhere over the rainbow while under a dark cloud, simultaneously.
[I wandered lonely as a Cloud] by William Wordsworth
I wandered lonely as a Cloud
That floats on high o'er Vales and Hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host of golden Daffodils;
Beside the Lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the Milky Way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
The waves beside them danced, but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:—
A Poet could not but be gay
In such a jocund company:
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the shew to me had brought:
For oft when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude,
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the Daffodils
Surely, given the climate of the day, even a saintonian like Wordsworth would have to apologize for using the word "gay" -- and in matters surrounding the essence of holiness for the entire community of gay people, be forced to find another way to say gay that rhymes with they.
Unlike Wordsworthian, pulling a Joe-Bidenian, is not one for the history books; the Bidenian openness to the world is challenged by nature and nurture in multiple dimensions --- but still, isn't he still a decent guy? Isn't he? [It's complicated, right, Joe?]
The thing is -- returning back to how this day began -- the tight rope of managing and living in reality while recognizing the pure beauty, sanctity, and "ecstasy in paying attention. You can get into a kind of Wordsworthian openness to the world, where you see in everything the essence of holiness."
This is where we should aim to live as much of the day as humanly possible. It's just a great goal.
Life is full of beautiful things.
And to end this day, firmly and soundly, this girl is moving to a certain Letter to the Philippians, written by the Apostle Paul, because it is probably one of the prettiest verses in all the Bible (and its a repeat on G):
whatever is true,
whatever is noble,
whatever is right,
whatever is pure,
whatever is lovely,
whatever is admirable --
if anything is excellent
or praiseworthy --
think about such things."
and finally, finally, please recognize that Paul was speaking to both men AND women, in a brotherly love kind of way...in other words, this verse of Wordsworthian proportion and significance and grace, is gender neutral, k.
Make it a Good Day, G