O Taste and See
by Denise LevertovThe world is not with us enoughO taste and see
the subway Bible poster said,meaning The Lord, meaningif anything all that livesto the imagination’s tongue,
grief, mercy, language,tangerine, weather, tobreathe them, bite,savor, chew, swallow, transform
into our flesh ourdeaths, crossing the street,plum, quince,living in the orchardand being
hungry, and pluckingthe fruit.
The Night Blooming Cereus |
Why does it often take an encounter with one's mortality to awake to the incredible, rich, gorgeous artistry of Life, all around us? I suppose the answer to that is obvious. But then....... there it is, and all one can do is stand, with mouth open, noticing, recognizing, "tasting and seeing".
Lemons from my lemon tree |
Just a week ago I spent three days in the ER at a local hospital to emerge with a diagnosis of congestive heart failure and an aneurism. Now I wait another week to have open heart surgery. An interim, a "liminal zone" of time in which I am awake. All of this, all of this I've loved, and built, and collected, the garden I love, the paintings I've done or imagine are yet to be done, the plans, the disappointments, the squabbles and the friendships, the cup I particularly like to drink tea out of, the sun coming through a yellow bottle I always notice...........it all could be over pretty soon now. Or not, but my perception of my "time" will not be the same, ever again. What does one do with that kind of awakening. Not a poetic or metaphysical abstraction, but carnal, immanent, solid? Well, gratitude helps. And,...........
O Taste and See
What a feast! What if we daily understood (meaning, to "live under "a truth) that it's such a Privilege to be here? To experience and be a part of this amazing world with all of its polarities and struggles, among vast mysterious communities of other Beings evolving in their own unique ways all around us? And each moment with its own unique Beauty that blooms and dies and seeds, so fast, so precious, so amazing. Collateral beauty, ackward beauty, dark beauty that opens the heart and teaches the hard lessons too. Who is the Conductor, who the orchestra?
For the past few years I've had the peculiar experience of having "life reviews" without the necessity of being dead. I think a lot of older people experience this. In other words, it's like long forgotten moments seem to arise from the well of my memory, often in ways that seem unrelated to whatever I am doing or even thinking about at the time.
I tend to feel those moments are part of the ineffable and timeless gestalt that I really am, and they are worth looking at for what they may have to teach me now as I try to get an overview of the threads that weave the tapestry of my long life.
Of course, so many of those memory moments aren't happy, or illuminated, many are sad or painful or embarrousing or traumatic or show me the ways I may have hurt someone, been very unconscious, hurt myself, wasted time or love or purpose. Those too are welcome now, they are wise teachers in the unfolding of this grand adventure that has been (and is still, it's not over yet!) Lauren Raine. I know, a strange post this, but I find myself in a state of awe. It's a funny thing, but I find it strange that it would take heart disease to open my heart so. May healing come to my heart, and may that vision that is with me now, remain. I think of a line from a poem I wrote a long time ago, so here I quote myself:
"We are given a vision so bountifulwe can only gaze with eyes wide,
like a child in summer's first garden.
Here is a poem by Rumi that also comes to mind today.
The Guest-House
This being human is a guest-house.Every morning a new arrival.A joy, a depression, a meanness,some momentary awareness comesas an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,who violently sweep your houseempty of its furniture,still, treat each guest honorably.He may be clearing youout for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,and invite them in.Be grateful for whoever comes,because each has been sentas a guide from beyond.