And still, after all this time, the Sun has never said to the Earth,
“You owe me.”
Look what happens with love like that.
It lights up the sky.”-Rumi
American Poetry
Today was the last lecture day for my American Poetry class. We discussed a couple excerpts from Anne Carson’s Autobiography of Red and I fell in love with part “VII. Change”.
The context for this section is that Geryon— a little, red, winged, mythological creature— is meeting Herakles for the first time and they fall in love in that very moment. It helps to read the section out loud.
Somehow Geryon made it to adolescence.
______________________
Then he met Herakles and the kingdoms of his life all shfted down a few notches.
They were two superior eels
at the bottom of the tank and they recognized each other like italics.
Geryon was going into the Bus Depot
one Friday night about three a.m. to get change to call home. Herakles stepped off
the bus from New Mexico and Geryon
came fast around the corner of the platform and there it was one of those moments
that is the opposite of blindness.
The world poured back and forth between their eyes once or twice. Other people
wishing to disembark the bus from New Mexico
were jamming up behind Herakles who had stopped on the bottom step
with his suitcase in one hand
trying to tuck in his shirt with the other. Do you have change for a dollar?
Geryon heard Geryon say.
No. Herakles stared straight at Geryon. But I’ll give you a quarter for free.
Why would you do that?
I believe in being gracious. Some hours later they were down
at the railroad tracks
standing close together by the switch lights. The huge night moved overhead
scattering drops of itself.
You’re cold, said Herakles suddenly, your hands are cold. Here.
He put Geryon’s hands inside his shirt.
Musings
Three months ago, I was fortunate enough to attend the first day of The Newark Peace Education Summit here in Newark, NJ. There, I heard words of wisdom, calls to action, and stories of love and compassion by leaders such as His Holiness the Dalai Lama, Shirin Ebadi, and Jody Williams (all Nobel Laureates). Even as I read through the notes months after they were taken, I’m still captivated and inspired to live a peaceful life.
Tao Porchon-Lynch, a 92 year-old Master Yoga teacher, was asked about what the Buddhist secret was to a long, youthful life. Her response, although short and simple, is something that still resonates deeply within me:
My secret is that I love life.
Although I’m grateful for life, I’m not sure I’m ready to say that I love life the way I saw she loved life. Perhaps it won’t be anytime soon, but I’m sure I’ll fall in love with life as I continue doing the things I feel extreme personal satisfaction from, like helping others and expanding my perspective of life. Hopefully then I can look back at decades worth of love and peace.
