Saturday, December 23, 2023

December 21, 22, 23: "Self Portrait," Self-Awareness, T-I-R-E-D

Mary Oliver introspects a little bit . . . 

Self-Portrait

by:  Mary Oliver

I wish I was twenty and in love with life
     and still full of beans.

Onward, old legs!
There are the long, pale dunes; on the other side
the roses are blooming and finding their labor
no adversity to the spirit.

Upward, old legs!  There are the roses, and there is the sea
shining like a song, like a body
I want to touch

though I'm not twenty
and won't be again but ah! seventy.  And still
in love with life.  And still
full of beans.



I've always thought of Mary Oliver as a very self-aware person.  In fact, most poets I know are pretty self-aware.  It sort of goes with the territory.  Oliver, in this poem, is very aware of her age and limitations.  She has to order her old legs to go "Onward" and "Upward" as if they are soldiers who need a morale boost.  Yet, Oliver also feels no different than she did when she was twenty:  she has been, is, and always will be full of beans.

I apologize for being absent again for another three days.  I used to be able to function on three or four hours of sleep, write daily blog posts and poems, teach, work, and go for long walks.  Now, I' lucky if my eyes aren't on the heavy side by 9 p.m.  So, like Oliver, I have identified and accepted by limitations.

In the past three days, I have hosted a Winter Solstice Zoom open mic with some friends, one of whom was actually born on the solstice:



And I did some last-minute shopping for Christmas yesterday (Friday).  There were hundreds and hundreds of people who were doing the same thing.  The shelves were pretty empty.  I couldn't even find a bottle of Light Corn Syrup.  (By the way, Dante forgot the tenth circle of the Inferno--Walmart two days before Christmas Eve.):



Today, our family celebrated its first official Christmas gathering.  We had a turkey dinner, drank mimosas, opened presents, and enjoyed each other's company with my wife's side of the family.  Every time my cup was empty, someone took it from my hand and refilled it.  When we left the gathering, I was filled with the Christmas spirits, literally and figuratively.

Then I played for a church service.  (In case you are wondering, I was mostly sober for playing the pipe organ.  If I made any mistakes, I didn't notice.  

I share all of this information to say:  I am t-i-r-e-d right now.  Feeling my age.  Like Oliver, I often feel no different from when I was 20.  Yet, my body reminds me of its true mileage.  Right now, I am practically comatose.  

Here are the things that haven't changed since I was 20:  I still love Christmas; I still love poetry; I still have terrible sleeping habits (I just feel the effects of my insomnia a LOT more); I still believe in the goodness of people; and, in case you are wondering, I, like Oliver,  am full of beans, too.

That's Saint Marty's lesson in self-awareness for today.



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