October 23: "The Guest," Delight, My Wife's Hand

It doesn't feel like I accomplished a whole lot today.  I graded assignments.  Worked on scheduling upcoming programs at the library.  Read a bunch of poetry manuscripts.  Went for a few long walks.  That's it.

Poet Ross Gay once wrote, "Delight reminds us that there is still beauty in the world, no matter how dark it may seem."

Even on days when accomplishment is nonexistent, I can still find something that brings me delight.

Billy Collins delights in hospitality . . . 

The Guest

by: Billy Collins

I know that the reason you placed nine white tulips
in a glass vase with water
here in this room a few days ago

was not to mark the passage of time
as a fish would have if nailed by the tail
to the wall above the bed of a guest.

But early this morning I did notice
their lowered heads
in the gray light,

two of them even touching the glass
table top near the window,
the blossoms falling open

as they lost their grip on themselves,
and my suitcase only half unpacked by the door.

At the present moment in the United States, delight is in short supply.  Every day I come home, there's at least six or seven political advertisements in my mail.  Facebook is crowded daily with the latest goulash of stupidity uttered by former President Felon.  And I'm more frightened by my neighbor's political signs than by their Halloween decorations.  As Ross Gay says, the world seems pretty dark.

Yet, on my walk this evening, I found delight in the cool breeze against my cheeks.  And a fat gray squirrel stuffing acorns into his cheeks.  Sunlight blazing in an autumn maple.  A man vacuuming leaves off his lawn.  My wife's hand in mine.

Delight is easy.  You just have to train your antennae to notice it.  Collins notices the nine white tulips in the glass vase in his room.  I notice the fog of my breath in the dusky air.  Delight and delight.  After I'm done typing this post, I'm going to brush my teeth, read a few pages of Tommy Orange's novel Wandering Stars, and then maybe watch a movie on Netflix.  Delight upon delight upon delight.

But first, Saint Marty is going to finish off a bowl of tapioca pudding a friend made for him.  Deeee-light.