The Least, First

Monte Asbury's blog

Robinson Jeffers, burnout and beauty

with 4 comments

My friend Honestpoet Robinson Jeffersencouraged me to look into the poetry of Robinson Jeffers. I looked for him in Wikipedia, and found some pretty compelling comments:

…Jeffers continued to explore the questions of how human beings could find their proper relationship (free of human egocentrism) with the divinity of the beauty of things.

Mankind was too self-centered, he complained, and too indifferent to the “astonishing beauty of things”.

In January of 2002 I had what we used to call a “nervous breakdown.” Utterly disabled, off work for months, I could feel almost nothing but loss.

Beauty was the path that opened the possibility of healing. It started with a counselor’s suggestion that I learn about delight (which, in those parched beginnings, meant a cup of coffee and a newspaper at the health-food co-op).  Eventually, I came to agree with Joan Chittister, who wrote, “A loss of commitment to beauty is the surest sign that we have lost our way to God.” (Illuminated Life: Monastic Wisdom for Seekers of God).

Much has happened since then. But as I read this poem of Jeffers this morning, I felt called again to the life of healing-by-beauty, thus permitting (what seems to me to be) one gentle, feather’s-weight sensitization to its inventor’s whispers.

Thanks, HP – you have helped me.

Love The Wild Swan
“I hate my verses, every line, every word.
Oh pale and brittle pencils ever to try
One grass-blade’s curve, or the throat of one bird
That clings to twig, ruffled against white sky.
Oh cracked and twilight mirrors ever to catch
One color, one glinting
Hash, of the splendor of things.
Unlucky hunter, Oh bullets of wax,
The lion beauty, the wild-swan wings, the storm of the wings.”
–This wild swan of a world is no hunter’s game.
Better bullets than yours would miss the white breast
Better mirrors than yours would crack in the flame.
Does it matter whether you hate your . . . self?
At least Love your eyes that can see, your mind that can
Hear the music, the thunder of the wings. Love the wild swan.
Robinson Jeffers


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Written by Monte

April 18, 2007 at 12:16 pm

4 Responses

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  1. And not only to me, HP – look at the comments of my friends!
    Thanks, Glenn and Sharon!

    Monte

    April 19, 2007 at 2:47 pm

  2. Glad to be of service, Monte.

    honestpoet

    April 19, 2007 at 12:46 pm

  3. Hi M,
    I chose beauty yesterday. On purpose turning my back on advancement and declined a committment that would have put much stress in my life. There is financial loss and the presteige of ‘looking good’. Then I read your blog and your responses!
    Because of my actions, Governments will not play fair. They will not honor Truth. Churches will not hang for love, joy, peace, patirnce, kindness…. self control. But, I for one, have a sense of well being anda desire to persue poetry armed with a hot cup of almond tea and puppies. Somehow facing beauty wiped away doubt. Thanks friend
    Sharon

    Sharm

    April 19, 2007 at 7:45 am

  4. Monte…

    Thank you for sharing your story. I too was stricken by grief and loss at about the same time and I am still fighting my way out of it.

    The poem was beautiful. When I can enjoy beauty, then, I am alive!

    glenn

    April 18, 2007 at 11:21 pm


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