What's the Nugget?

It seems to me that what we expect to remember about our lives and what we actually think about when we're reminiscing are usually quite different. A friend of mine once remarked that life is more like a slide show than a news reel, and I'm inclined to agree.

I went hunting with some friends in Virginia once a few years ago. After a harrowing climb up a tree stand with very skinny steps and no rails I sat in the cold and waited for a deer that never came for about three hours. By all accounts the trip was a failure, but about halfway through I heard something behind me so I turned to look. One tree over, maybe about eight feet, was a woodpecker, blissfully unaware of my presence. "Maybe this is it," I thought. "Maybe seeing this bird is the nugget." It turns out that it was.

I'm of the opinion that our lives are ordered in such a way as to provide us opportunities for moral development, and it follows from that that there is something to learn from every situation. for some things, like touching a hot stove, the lesson is immediately clear. For others, like cancer, it's a complicated answer that unfolds over time. But there's a nugget in there somewhere, every time.

It doesn't eliminate the fear and discomfort of life to know that it's possible to grow from everything you do, but it certainly can add some perspective.

Of course, this only works if you think you'll live forever somewhere, and will benefit from those lessons indefinitely.

Just my two cents.

"Air"

I don't have any deep philosophical musings tonight, only a recommendation. I'm posting a link to J.S. Bach's Air (on the G string), presented only with the comment that the soul is nurtured by Truth, Beauty, and Goodness, and that Bach was a devout Lutheran who gave the world much Beauty to be nurtured by.

Air (On the G String)


I also want to present a poem that's come to be meaningful to me, in the hopes that it might speak to someone else as well:

Pablo Neruda

Tu Risa

Your Laughter

Quítame el pan, si quieres, quítame el aire, pero no me quites tu risa

Take the bread from me, if you want take the air from me, but do not take from me your laughter

No me quites la rosa, la lanza que desgranas, el agua que de pronto estalla en tu alegría, la repentina ola de plata que te nace.

Do not take away the rose, the lanceflower that you pluck, the water that suddenly bursts forth in your joy, the sudden wave of silver born in you.

Mi lucha es dura y vuelvo con los ojos cansados a veces de haber visto la tierra que no cambia, pero al entrar tu risa sube al cielo buscándome y abre para mí todas las puertas de la vida.

My struggle is harsh and I come back with eyes tired at times from having seen the unchanging earth, but when your laughter enters it rises to the sky seeking me and it opens for me all the doors of life.

Amor mío, en la hora más oscura desgrana tu risa, y si de pronto ves que mi sangre mancha las piedras de la calle, ríe, porque tu risa será para mis manos como una espada fresca.

My love, in the darkest hour your laughter opens, and if suddenly you see my blood staining the stones of the street, laugh, because your laughter will be for my hands like a fresh sword.

Junto al mar en otoño, tu risa debe alzar su cascada de espuma, y en primavera, amor, quiero tu risa como la flor que yo esperaba, la flor azul, la rosa de mi patria sonora.

Next to the sea in the autumn, your laughter must raise its foamy cascade, and in the spring, love, I want your laughter like the flower I was waiting for, the blue flower, the rose of my echoing country.

Ríete de la noche, del día, de la luna, ríete de las calles torcidas de la isla, ríete de este torpe muchacho que te quiere, pero cuando yo abro los ojos y los cierro, cuando mis pasos van, cuando vuelven mis pasos, niégame el pan, el aire, la luz, la primavera, pero tu risa nunca porque me moriría.

Laugh at the night, at the day, at the moon, laugh at the twisted streets of the island, laugh at this clumsy boy who loves you, but when I open my eyes and close them, when my steps go, when my steps return, deny me bread, air, light, spring, but never your laughter for I would die.

- translation by Donald Walsh