November 10: "My Hero," Hero Worship, First Saint Marty

I think hero worship is a dangerous thing. Hero worship of movie stars leads to negative body image and eating disorders in young people. Hero worship of professional athletes leads to unrealistic expectations in college athletes. Hero worship of politicians leads to tyrants and dictators. I can vouch for the fact that hero worship of poets can lead to writer's block.

Billy Collins worships a terrapin . . .

My Hero

by: Billy Collins

Just as the hare is zipping across the finish line,

the tortoise has stopped once again

by the roadside,

this time to stick out his neck

and nibble a bit of sweet grass,

unlike the previous time

when he was distracted 

by a bee humming in the heart of a wildflower.

I understand Collins's admiration of the tortoise.  The hare is all about crossing the finish line, winning the race.  The tortoise, on the other hand, is more about being in the moment.  Stopping to find joy in sweet grass and a bee dancing in the heart of a daisy or rose.  In other words, the tortoise is a poet.

Don't get me wrong.  I've been given and won my share of accolades and awards, and it felt great.  Everyone loves to be recognized for their hard work and talents.  It doesn't ever feel great to finish last.  I used to run 5K and 10K races.  I never came in first.  (Okay, I did take first or second place in my age group a couple times.  Often, however, there were only one of two other men my age running in those races, so I was guaranteed to win some kind of prize.)

There are some poets whom I admire greatly, almost bordering on hero worship.  Sharon Olds is at the top of that list.  Mary Oliver and Galway Kinnell.  However, my admiration never crosses into hero worship territory.  Rather, these writers teach me how to be a better writer and person.  I don't want to be the next Sharon Olds or Galway Kinnell or Mary Oliver.

I want to be the first Saint Marty.

Saint Marty's moment of hope today:  putting up his Christmas tree with his wife.