October 28: "A Question About Birds," Puppy's Favorite Toy, Universal

When I throw my puppy's favorite toy, I see her joy when she snatches it out of the air.  When I sit on the couch in the living room at night, I hear my son's joy as he plays video games with his friends.  When I walked across campus to teach this morning, I passed two young men walking together, holding hands, joyful in each other's closeness and love.  When I ate a blueberry muffin my wife made this afternoon, I tasted joy.

Joy needs no translator.

Billy Collins goes birdwatching . . . 

A Question About Birds

by: Billy Collins

I am going to sit on a rock near some water 

or on a slope of grass 

under a high ceiling of white clouds, 

and I am going to stop talking 

so I can wander around in that spot 

the way John Audubon might have wandered 

through a forest of speckled sunlight, 

stopping now and then to lean 

against an elm, mop his brow, 

and listen to the songs of birds. 

Did he wonder, as I often do, 

how they regard the songs of other species? 

Would it be like listening to the Chinese 

merchants at an outdoor market? 

Or do all the birds perfectly understand one another? 

Or is that nervous chittering 

I often hear from the upper branches 

the sound of some tireless little translator?

Of course, the catalyst for joy is different for all creatures.  I can't feel joy over a fat earthworm, but a robin can.  I will sing Billy Joel's "Captain Jack" at the top of my lungs every time I hear it, but my son makes me turn off my music when I drop him off at school in the morning.  Some evenings, I watch rabbits graze joyfully on the grass in my backyard, the antennae of their ears twitching for danger.

Some afternoons, I walk down to Lake Superior to listen to waves as I eat my lunch.  That brings me joy.  Tonight, I listened to an arrow of geese flying overhead, and their joyful blats and honks sounded like a New Year's Eve party.  Even autumn leaves spinning in whirlwinds look like kids on a merry-go-round, dizzy with joy.

While Collins wonders if birdsongs need translation from one feathered chanteuse to another, I think joy is pretty universal--I recognize it everywhere.  That doesn't mean that I'm perpetually joyful.  However, it does mean that joy is as abundant as oxygen.  Take a deep breath, and you can taste it.

Saint Marty is now going to joyfully brush his teeth and watch a little Hocus Pocus on Disney+.

August 12: "Yes! No!", Opinions and Assholes, Endless and Proper Work

Mary Oliver expresses some opinions . . . 

Yes!  No!

by:  Mary Oliver

How necessary it is to have opinions!  I think the spotted trout lilies are satisfied, standing a few inches above the earth.  I think serenity is not something you just find in the world, like a plum tree, holding up its white petals.

The violets, along the river, are opening their blue faces, like small dark lanterns.

The green mosses, being so many, are as good as brawny.

How important it is to walk along, not in haste but slowly, looking at everything and calling out.

Yes!  No!  The

swan, for all his pomp, his robes of glass and petals, wants only to be allowed to live on the nameless pond.  The catbrier is without fault.  The water thrushes, down among the sloppy rocks, are going crazy with happiness.  Imagination is better than a sharp instrument.  To pay attention, this is our endless and proper work.

The first line of this poem says it all:  it is necessary to have opinions.  Oliver wants to share her beliefs about the world, and for the rest of the stanzas, that's what she does.  She calls attention to ideas she holds dear.

I have opinions.  Anybody who personally knows me knows that I'm opinionated.  Sometimes obnoxiously so.  Oliver's poem is a list of her opinions, right down to her last sentence:  "To pay attention, this is our endless and proper work."

I try to avoid expressing too many opinions in my blog posts.  One of my father's favorite sayings was, "Opinions are like assholes.  Everybody has one."  Scroll through Facebook if you want to witness the truth of this statement.  So, I'm very careful about with whom I share my opinions, lest I look like an asshole.  Tonight, however, I'm going to express a few of my opinions, but I will try to avoid topics that deal with politics or religion.

Here goes . . .

The Empire Strikes Back is the best Star Wars movie ever made.

I prefer Captain Kirk to Captain Picard.

Poetry and art and music can save your life.

Climate change is real.  Ask the polar bears.

Jesus was a person of color who hung out with hookers, lepers, and tax collectors.

My puppy is the sweetest, smartest, prettiest dog ever.

Rain is better than snow, but snow is pretty cool, too.

The best Billy Joel song is "Captain Jack."  Listen to it.

The guy standing outside Walmart holding a sign ("Haven't eaten in three days") is an angel.

So is the lady at the Taco Bell drive-thru who gives my puppy treats every Sunday morning.

Both my kids are way smarter than me.

Baja Blast Zero is the best Mountain Dew flavor ever.

The pandemic was real.  Facemasks worked.  Vaccines saved hundreds of thousands of lives.  (Again, this is science, not politics.)

Politicians are not scientists.  Neither are religious leaders.

I used to believe in Bigfoot when I was a kid.  Now I believe in wonder.  

Bigfoot and wonder are the same thing.

Tonight, when I go to bed, I will lie awake for a while and listen to my wife's breaths, counting them like starfish on a beach.

Paying attention is our endless and proper work.  So is love.

Love is love is love.

Here endeth Saint Marty's lesson for tonight.