So, I guess I should start with the poem that names this blog, "I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud," by William Wordsworth.
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils,
Beside the lake, beneath the trees
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the Milky Way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
The waves beside them danced, but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee: -
A poet could not but be gay
In such a jocund company:
I gazed -and gazed -but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought.
For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills
And dances with the daffodils.
This has always been a favorite of mine, because of its simple message. Yet, within its simplicity is depth beyond compare. At its most basic, the poem is about Nature and memory...specifically, how our memories of our experiences with Nature can serve to refresh and restore our souls and minds in times of need. This is further enhanced by the fact that, at the time, we rarely realize the importance our experiences are going to have on our future selves ("I gazed and gazed but little thought / What wealth the show to me had brought"). When we need it, however, we can always seem to draw on some past experience that will help us through the tough times ("For oft when on my couch I lie / In vacant or in pensive mood"). I, myself, have turned to past experiences for comfort, whether those experiences are based in Nature, or based instead on fellowship with friends and family, and I find that, good or bad, those experiences have played a significant role in making me who I am.
I recall a time growing up in Virginia, when, as an innocent youth, I would get the utmost pleasure out of climbing a tree with my best friend or playing kickball with the neighborhood kids. I remember riding bikes with my best friend, Charles, in Georgia, trying to create a breeze on a hot and humid summer day. I remember Alaska and my mother waking me up in the middle of the night, so I could see the Northern Lights. Each of these memories, each of these experiences, is a part of me, and I find myself thinking on them more and more as I get older. Each time I do, I find that I feel better.
In vacant or pensive mood? An example. While walking through a park last summer, I came to a bridge over a small creek. Stopping at the center of the bridge, I looked out over the water and listened to the breeze as it fluttered through the branches of the trees lining the bank. Standing there, marveling in the beauty before me, I was transported back in time to my childhood. Suddenly, I was six years old, walking to my friend's house. As I neared the end of our building, I paused. Before me, I could see and hear the breeze blowing through the boughs of a large oak tree. Why that memory came to mind, I cannot begin to guess, but finding myself back on the bridge, I continued my walk with a little more bounce in my step. Why? I do not know. What I do know is that a simple memory allowed me to relive a moment of youth; yet it also refreshed me enough to make the rest of that walk a good one, regardless of the heat.
What is the point of all this? Again, I do not know. I guess I want to encourage all of you to take a few moments to pause and consider the world around you. I promise you will not regret it. In fact, that simple pause may take you back to a place or time that helps you in a time of need...a place or time that flashes on your "inward eye" and causes you to "dance with the daffodils." :)
"Dancing" is my spiritual specialty! AMEN to this!
ReplyDeleteSounds like you may be feeling a little extra age right now. I know when I had my foot surgery, I felt even older than usual and longed for days as a kid (the good days, obviously, not the bad)when I could run a little or ride a bike. This too shall pass. Keep on writing, so I can keep on reading. Next time I make it into town, I will definitely be making a pit stop by your house, maybe with a four year old monster in tow:)Sending big hugs your way!!!!
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