Living Is the Only Way

to tell pain from everything it’s not

Easter is a time when I think that we’re meant to think. About how by the logic of everything that’s always existed, we aren’t worth anything. About how the only thing that can save us from the mundane, harsh finality of that logic is love. About how love is the only thing above logic. Easter is when we think on how we are saved.

I’ve explained how I feel about poetry, but this one shows the tiny moments of that saving grace in the everyday.

The obvious truth is that living is the only way to get those moments, but “some of the greatest poetry is revealing to the reader the beauty in something that was so simple that you had taken it for granted.” (A quote from astrophysicist Neil deGrasse Tyson, not usually sourced for discussions of faith, but I think appropriate here.)

The poem was found by Patti. The NDT interview that quote is from was found by my wonderful brother, and if you watch it you will be in thrall for 90 minutes. Read this and then watch that. And, whatever you believe, I think it will make you grateful.

A Note

Life is the only way
to get covered in leaves,
catch your breath on the sand,
rise on wings;

to be a dog,
or stroke its warm fur;

to tell pain
from everything it’s not;

to squeeze inside events,
dawdle in views,
to seek the least of all possible mistakes.

An extraordinary chance
to remember for a moment
a conversation held
with the lamp switched off;

and if only once
to stumble upon a stone,
end up soaked in one downpour or another,

mislay your keys in the grass;
and to follow a spark on the wind with your eyes;
and to keep on not knowing
something important.

Wislawa Szymborska