When I was in college, I majored in English and, with probably one or two more classes, I would have concentrated in poetry. The almost-concentration wasn’t something I planned but failed to complete: I just happened to take a lot of poetry classes. (All of this can also be said for creative writing too. Guess what I wrote primarily? Poetry.)
What does that have to do with anything, right?
Well, I was trying to think of a quippy bird idiom to name this post, and kept coming back to one of my favorite poems. The title comes from Jane Kenyon’s “Having It Out with Melancholy,” which is a transparent, raw look at depression. I’ve been thinking about the last part of the poem lately, “Wood Thrush:” the perfect line break, the twisting emotions, the haunting last line. There’s something about the pivotal moment Kenyon captures — awaking from sadness — and keying into the world around you, honing all your attention into a singular place, forgetting pain that resonates with me so deeply lately.
Skirt: Old Navy
Shoes: Naturalizer via DSW
I’ve felt like these photos a lot lately: distant, aloof, off kilter. There’s a lot swirling around, between a number of huge museum endeavors this month, a sudden death of someone at the theatre, back pain, exhaustion, etc. But through this, I’m trying to hold onto those brilliant moments that pierce through it all: a striated sunrise or golden light through leaves. The days are long and tough, but they’re marked with such beauty.
(I guess if there was any one thing I learned from my failed meditation training session this weekend, it’s this: breathe and observe.)