What Are Years? (Birthday Journal)

 

“My father used to say … ‘The deepest feeling always shows itself in silence; not in silence, but restraint.’” Marianne Moore, Silence

I know the summer has arrived when I hear the sound of lobster creels dropping into the sea in the early hours of the morning from a fishing boat. It has a delicate sound like the sound of a pebble tossed into the water. 

But the creels have stones that are much heavier than pebbles. The stones are attached or tied into position inside to weight the creels down on the seabed. The fishermen's job is very physical. It is no wonder why they have to be very fit and also, retire early from the repetitive strain injury to their backs.

I am having a quiet week this week since it is the week I will be celebrating my 39^th birthday. It gives me a chance to take a breather and meditate on the changing sky and nature. I feel much calmer when I focus on nature. 

Even if I take a moment to look at the sky, flowers or passing clouds from my window and temporarily move away from the manmade objects, I feel contented. It slows down my mind and the passage of time seems to stand still. 

Kabir, a fifteenth-century Indian poet wrote: "Student, tell me, what is God? He is breath inside the breath." "When you really look for me, you will see me instantly - you will find me in the tiniest house of time." The Kabir Book by Robert Bly (Boston: Beacon Press, 1977)

The weather has been a blessing so far. It is a joy to walk in the sun-dappled woodland every morning. It is now warm enough to leave the windows open and this is how I hear the sound of creels going into the sea and a harsh cry of the seagulls when I wake up in the morning.

I have a habit of waking up early in the morning so that I can start the day in a silent meditation. I associate the life of the city with rushing, traffic congestion and the sound of sirens which make me anxious. In the rural life by the sea, I become a spiritual seeker or to use Yeats’ words, "a pilgrim soul". 

I find solace in the lap of nature and the sound of sea waves slapping softly at the boats as the rising tide creeps up has an ability to soothe and repair me. I do not think that I shall ever miss of going to the city.

The tranquillity of early dawn before the sunrise gives me a different experience of time. My mind stops wandering into the past or the future. This quality of serenity can pull me momentarily into the Garden of Eden from which each one of us is exiled. 

The east wind brings the smell of seaweeds after baking in the sun all day. The smell of the sea is intensified and becomes more pungent under the sun. But I love it. These days are so vivid to me and they leave me with a sense of renewed strength.   

I find consolation in the gifts of ordinariness that nature and seasons give me in the misty morning. The sea is calm and rippling like satin gowns in the cool wind and the fields of barley and rapeseed give a patchwork of colours as if they have been patiently embroidered by hand. 

By the hillside, there are white rhododendrons in full bloom. A bounty of snowy blooms has a frothy appearance which makes me think of the exotic, sacred flowers from Tibet.

When I come back from my walk, I have my breakfast and a nice cup of tea while I look out to the sea from the dining room. And then I write my journal and read a book of poetry. 

Canon by Missa Johnouchi (classically-trained Japanese composer) is an incredibly relaxing and therapeutic album and it is the kind of music that I love listening to when I arrange flowers in the morning. 

Marianne Moore's poem, What are years? is such a profound poem. I have been thinking about the meaning behind this poem. It seems most apt for my birthday reflections. 

I am reading the complete poems of Marianne Moore. One of the poems that I love is called “What are years?” There is a beautiful line in this poem: “The very bird,/ grown taller as he sings, steels/ his form straight up. Though he is captive,/ his mighty singing says, satisfaction is a lowly/ thing, how pure a thing is joy.”

I find Moore’s use of the words “Though he is captive” (captivity is symbolic of inwardness) and “Joy” (not happiness) particularly compelling. Happiness is a feeling which can be fleeting. Joy is closer to contentment which comes from the inside. It is a state of being and more lasting than happiness. Moore’s poem guides us inward because joy is something that cannot be found out there – in our worldly activities because it is inside us.

“The very bird,/ grown taller as he sings, steels/ his form straight up. Though he is captive,/ his mighty singing says, satisfaction is a lowly/ thing, how pure a thing is joy.”
~ What are years? ~ Marianne Moore ~ (1941)

The speaker in Moore’s poem encourages us to make the best of “what is”. The past is gone, and the future is yet to be. All that exists is now. The poem poses a finite question – what are years when we can experience the sense of the eternal in the fullness of the moment?

It is worth remembering “satisfaction is a lowly thing” and “How pure a thing is joy”. I need to write down these phrases in my journal so that I shall never forget. When I mentioned the name of the poem What are years? to Gordon, his jocular reply to such question was: "Who is counting?". It seems apparent that he has stopped counting his age. 

I lost my momentum in my reading a few weeks ago while I was distracted by mundane and repetitive tasks. I feel quite guilty for losing my interest in my most favourite hobby of reading. So, I thought I would expiate it by listening to the audio books while I bake and cook in the kitchen or arrange flowers. 

I listened to Elizabeth von Arnim's novel, In the Mountains on BBC Radio 4 last week and it made me fell in love with Arnim's writing all over again. 

I am glad that one evening last week I tuned into the BBC Radio 4’s without knowing what the reading of book at bedtime. It turned out to be an abridged audio book of my favourite novel, “In the Mountains” by Elizabeth von Arnim (1866-1941). 

The presenter on the radio announced that the story is about “A grief-stricken English woman flees to her Swiss chalet at the end of the First World War, seeking solace amid the fresh air and dramatic scenery.” 

The voice of the narrator in Elizabeth von Arnim's novel, In the Mountains, struck a chord with me. She wrote in her journal: "August 7th: Every morning now when I wake and see the patch of bright sunshine on the wall at the foot of my bed that means another perfect day, my heart goes out in an eager prayer that I may not disgrace so great a blessing by private gloom. And I do think each of these last days has been a little less disgraced than its yesterday." Elizabeth von Arnim, In the Mountains  

This synopsis instantly appealed to me. It is not very often that one stumbles across an intriguing story like this on Radio 4 these days. But who had written this beautiful story? Was it by a contemporary author? It still did not occur to me that it was by Elizabeth von Arnim. Only half way through the reading on the radio, I realised that the story sounds very familiar. It was beautifully read by Ruth Gemmell.

Although Elizabeth von Arnim will be mainly remembered for her famous novels “Elizabeth and her German Garden” (1898) and “The Enchanted April” (1922), my favourite books by her are “In the Mountains” (1920) and “The Solitary Summer” (1899). I have not read “In the Mountains” for many years and no wonder why I did not have a recollection of the story when I first heard it on Radio 4 last week. 

A book is like a garden carried in a pocket. ~ Ancient Proverb ~ 

I absolutely love Elizabeth von Arnim's The Solitary Summer. It is the one book that I must read every summer. 

"August 3rd: These burning August days, when I live in so great a glory of light and colour that it is like living in the glowing heart of a jewel, how impossible it is to keep from gratitude. I'm so grateful to be here, to have here to come to. Really I think I'm beginning to feel different - remote from the old unhappy things that were strangling me dead; restored; almost as though I might really some day be in tune again." Elizabeth von Arnim

I read Elizabeth von Arnim's novel, “The Solitary Summer” every summer. I love her introspective style of writing and lyrical intensity. Both "The Solitary Summer" and "In the Mountains" were written in the form of a diary. Her writing has a tonic quality and a peculiarly engrossing effect on the readers. 

After listening to the audio book on BBC Radio 4 before going to sleep everyday last week, I fell in love with Elizabeth von Arnim’s story “In the Mountains” all over again.

I've already started to make a list of books that I would like to take with me for my holiday in the Lake District in the autumn. I'm always interested in Jung ever since I read his autobiography called "Memories, dreams and reflections" (1962). And I admire James Hillman, a Jungian psychoanalyst. Gordon gave me Hillman's book titled "Mythic Figures" as a gift for my birthday.

Mountains: An Anthology compiled by the English philosopher, Anthony Kenny contains sublime passages of nature writings about the mountains. I read it during the several months of lockdown and it inspired and uplifted me and also gave me a bit of escapism during the period when our physical realities were restrained. I would like to take this book again when I go away for my holiday.    

Colin Thubron's To a Mountain in Tibet is one of my favourite books on Tibet and perhaps, it is one of his most moving and personal books. The book is about a spiritual journey and a meditations on loss, memory and healing. It can be read in parallel with Peter Matthiessen's book The Snow Leopard (1978).

I can see why Colin Thubron is admired by the writers such as Jan Morris and Anita Brookner. His power of imagination, poetic observation and lyricism in his prose leap off every page he writes. 

I am making a list of books to take when Gordon and I go back to the Lake District this autumn. I want to take a couple of my favourites by Elizabeth von Arnim. How I long to be back in the mountains again. I know that our time together in the mountains and fells will be a balm for our spirits.      

Have I told you before that Philomena is also a daydreamer and bibliophile?  

Birthday reflections

Earth’s crammed with heaven,/And every common bush afire with God;/But only he who sees, takes off his shoes;/The rest sit round and pluck blackberries.” Elizabeth Barrett Browning

“Which of these things derives its beauty from praise, or withers under criticism? Does an emerald lose its quality if it is not praised? And what of gold, ivory, purple, a lyre, a dagger, a flower, a bush?” ― Marcus Aurelius, Meditations

On the day of my birthday, I always love to arrange flowers in the morning. It set the mood for the day – peaceful, meditative and reassuring, an antidote to the modern way of living. It makes me feel a sense of being at one with my activity and with the universe. I love the quietness that descends, leaving me alone with my thoughts and reflections. 

I love to bake bread and arrange flowers in the morning. It set the mood for the day - quiet, peaceful and meditative. 

I think that the flowers are created to heal and refresh people who are tired and slightly world-weary. 

The effect of the gentle awaking in the early morning is enhanced by the birdsongs, refreshing fragrance of the flowers and slow ballads from June Christy’s last album, Impromptu (1977). 

It is her mature album with songs about love (much of it unrequited), longing, loneliness and survival after having outlived all the storms of autumn.

June Christy: Impromptu (1977). I have been listening to this album by June Christy for many years. I love it so much. It's her last studio album after a long period of absence. Most of the songs on this album are slow ballads about love (much of it unrequited). The erstwhile glow of her voice was now fading but her intelligent phrasing and a prevailing mood of wistful poignancy permeates the whole album.  

June Christy sings Once Upon A Summertime while I make bread in the kitchen. You were sweeter than the blossoms on the tree...Now another winter time has come and gone...You loved me once upon a summertime.

For my birthday Gordon is going to take me to my favourite cliff walk and then, to the beach in the morning after we have our breakfast. On a clear day, the colour of the sea turns blue like a transparent sapphire, a little wind would arise to ruffle the water and there is no cotton-wool wisps of clouds. The sea, so vast, and yet so intimate, and the ebb and flow of the tides take away my anxiety.   

In the morning of my birthday, Gordon is going to take me to my favourite cliff walk and then, going down to the beach.

After the walk on the beach, Gordon is taking me to a birthday lunch at Kescoweth (Cornish word for “Companion”), one of my favourite restaurants located on the top of the hill, overlooking the most picturesque countryside of Angus. 

Gordon is taking me out for my birthday lunch at my favourite restaurant, Kescoweth (Cornish word for Companion). I haven't been to this place for more than two years. I love its homemade dishes, peaceful atmosphere and stunning view of Angus countryside from their conservatory. 

I have not been to Kescoweth ever since we had the lockdown. It is a family-owned business and it relies on the best advertising method of customers’ word-of-mouth. They have a carefully crafted menu with everything homemade with fresh local ingredients and they do it so well.  It is always clean and quiet and no loud music in the background.  

The years seem to fly by so quickly and I am not sure I am ready for yet another birthday. But after the last year we had, we have to be thankful for every blessing, both large and small and friends we have in our lives. 

Marcus Aurelius in his Meditations (Book XI: 35) wrote: “Grapes are first sour, then ripe, then raisins, these are all no more than bare alterations, not into nothing, but into something which does not appear at present.” Perhaps, this is how you have to approach life.

I would like to express my sincere gratitude to you all for your friendship and support. I am delighted that our virtual paths have crossed. I am very grateful to you for visiting me and sharing this journey with me. May your lives be filled with happiness and love. Here's to you!