Sign of The Times
Noting that among all the McCain/Palin signs in the neighborhood there were a few Obama/Biden signs, Jim and Amanda decided to have an election party for the Democratic “yardsigners.” What a great idea! An opportunity to meet some of our like-minded neighbors, having wine and cheese, while sharing our thoughts and hopes as the election results reshaped the US electoral map.
She will sit and stare at charts on CNN.
(But aren’t we redeemed by what they cannot show?
The struggle in each restless heart to know
The terms on which the nation’s fate depends.)
She will think how, at last, millions have spoken as one,
That freedom requires an open mind and hand,
And the strength to be forgiven and understand,
And that tomorrow morning it has all just begun.
— From “Election Day,” by J. D. McClatchy
Read what people are saying about the election of Barack Obama.
kenne
Thank you, Kenne and Joy for joining us at our small–but empowered!–soiree where we mutually looked forward to and were rewarded by Barack’s historic and seminal victory. Here is a beloved poem, by way of comment, on the tasks and sacrifice ahead:
A Little Bit About the Soul
by Wislawa Szymborska (1996 Nobel Prize for literature; translated by Joanna Trzeciak)
A soul is something we have every now and then.
Nobody has one all the time
or forever
Day after day,
year after year,
can go by without one.
Only sometimes in rapture
or in the fears of childhood
it nests a little longer.
Only sometimes in the wonderment
that we are old.
It rarely assists us
during tiresome tasks,
such as moving furniture,
carrying suitcases,
or traveling on foot in shoes too tight.
When we’re filling out questionnaires
or chopping meat
It’s usually given time off.
Out of our thousand conversations
it participates in one,
and even that isn’t a given,
for it prefers silence.
When the body starts to ache and ache
It quietly steals from its post.
It’s choosy: not happy to see us in crowds,
sickened by our struggle for any old advantage
and the drone of business dealings.
It doesn’t see joy and sorrow
as two different feelings.
It is with us
Only in their union.
We can count on it when we’re not sure of anything
and curious about everything.
Of all material objects
It likes grandfather clocks
and mirrors, which work diligently
even when no one is looking.
It doesn’t state where it comes from
or when it will vanish again,
but clearly it awaits such questions.
Evidently,
just as we need it,
it can also use us
for something.
What a beautiful and thought provoking poem. As we know, some things defy definition, which is where poets come in. How do you define “soul” when the very act of doing so changes its very nature. So, it is in the acts of experiencing soul that we are able to give meaning to what it is – at least at the time of the act. In his poem, Szymborska shares why this elusive feeling we call soul cannot be pinned down. As we experience being, soul becomes that which gives meaning to our inter-being. Thanks for sharing.
As for getting to meet the two of you the other evening, let me quote one of my favorite existential philosopher, Martin Buber; “All real living is meeting.”
kenne