Dear Why Team member,
As always, thank you so much for being a member. I hope these weekly writings have been of service to you.
This week I am doing something very different.
I am introducing you to one of my favorite modern Poets. I was introduced to his work about 10 years ago during a very difficult time in my life. And had the opportunity to meet him and hear his work in person. His name is David Whyte.
Yesterday morning, I happened to open his book titled PILGRIM to page 43 and began reading his poem titled STAR - and then had the thought that this poem may have come to me for you.
Poetry uniquely challenges the left side of our brain, which prefers facts and certainty - telling us who we are and what to do. We all can benefit from engaging more of the right side of our brain, where we experience more of life without explanation.
The wonder and amazement of life is largely experienced through the right hemisphere of our brain and is engaged uniquely with various forms of art. The more left-brain dominant, the more challenging poetry can be. The invitation this week is to set aside a quiet moment and take in a bit of poetry. It's okay if it doesn't make sense.
I hope you enjoy this poem from David Whyte and will consider looking into him and his work. He has very entertaining and uplifting audio recordings as well.
Now here is-
STAR
by David Whyte:
North of Oughterard
there comes a sudden
lapse and steal of light
in the sky, the opening
of an invitation
to a different way
through land
once thought familiar,
and driving on
into the low western sun
the sense of
a parallel looked for
but not yet found,
the crack between the world
as you want it
and the world you
seem to have inherited,
the evening light beginning
to pale everything,
and the great discipline
remembering
to drive the road
into that disappearing
gleam and not lose sight
of the beckoning
interior horizon,
never to pass the door
to the liminal world,
but to go another
different way,
through Conamara
far from the traffic
that slows the mind
and the grey lash
of habit that feeds
our disappointment;
to drive and never
let the eyes fall once
to check the blurring screen,
but remember
to practice
the nobility
that comes with promise,
to drive out west,
the eyes level or lifted
the mind cleared;
the steering wheel
invisible
below the eye
but still
charting the needed course
and the body at tiptoe,
leaning toward
the windscreen,
the breath held
and the eyes
a-shiver for
a falling plume of sky;
the clear, pinpoint star
that just appeared
above Leenane,
one you
did not realize
you were following.
Make it a great week!
Steve Luckenbach