He came to sell me books

Would you like to buy some books?

I've plenty of books.
Thank you.

But these are life-changing books.
Here are some Dr. Seuss books.
And here is an entire set of children's encyclopedias. You receive one a month until you have the entire set.

Yes, I'll take those.
The Dr. Seuss books and the encyclopedias.
I will read them from cover to cover.
I'll know words. And see how rhymes and wit are created.
And how the world works.

I have more books for you to buy. These are text books. You have to have them. You could rent them, but I think it's better to buy them. That way you'll have them forever.

Yes. Yes, I should buy them. Space is tight on the shelf, but I'll find a place for them. How many are there?

Well, that's a hard question. Learning is a lifetime activity. You'll probably need to buy about 12 text books each year.

For how long?

For a very long time.

Is it a subscription?

Sort of. You can cancel at anytime. Well, not really at any time. But any time after the first eight years, although it is not advised.

Okay. Which ones should I buy first?

Oh, the reading books and arithmetic and science are the best books to start with. And later you can add books on social science, art, theatre, and music. You cannot have enough music books.

And so the books began to fill my life. Shelf after shelf became full. And then they appeared in stacks on my bedside table...and on the coffee table, and I began to buy more shelves, and they found their way into plastic storage bins. They were everywhere; they are everywhere.

The books became more complicated. He continued selling them to me.

Here are some categories of books that I suggest you consider:

• Adolescence: Why it is Important and How to Have Social Conflict, Inner Turmoil, and Daily Existential Crises at Least Hourly for Six-Eight Years (And Share with Others).
• Religion: How to Do What You're Told, Believe without Questioning, and Develop Expertise in the Cycle of Shame, Blame, and Forgiveness.
• Career: Determining Your Talents and Interests and then Comparing Those to What Will Bring You the Greatest Monetary Rewards.
• Higher Education: Why the Joy of Learning Will Always Be Greater than the Number of Opportunities to Share Knowledge.
• Relationships: Surviving on the Continuum of Family, Friends, Lovers, and Co-Workers--Why Being Genuine and Honest Rarely Pay Off.
• Recreation: How to Determine What is Best for You and Then Struggle to Fit It In to Your Daily Existence (Without Pissing Everyone Off).
• Aging: Conquering the Myths.

I have books.

Well, by this stage of my life, I think I've read nearly all of these. Some were very helpful. But many left me feeling empty, confused, or as though I just wasn't getting it.

Thank you for the books. I will continue reading some of these and others. But I think I have to put some of the books down to make time for living. For getting out and learning by doing. It's been helpful to learn from what others write about. I've read those books, marked passages, written reflections, and completed end-of-the-chapter exercises and activities. I've even encouraged others to read these books.

I even give books as gifts.

But now I need to pay attention to me, and the world, and other people.

Would you like to buy some books?

Prayer of an Anonymous Abbess

“Prayer of an Anonymous Abbess:

Lord, thou knowest better than myself that I am growing older and will soon be old. Keep me from becoming too talkative, and especially from the unfortunate habit of thinking that I must say something on every subject and at every opportunity.

Release me from the idea that I must straighten out other peoples' affairs. With my immense treasure of experience and wisdom, it seems a pity not to let everybody partake of it. But thou knowest, Lord, that in the end I will need a few friends.

Keep me from the recital of endless details; give me wings to get to the point.

Grant me the patience to listen to the complaints of others; help me to endure them with charity. But seal my lips on my own aches and pains -- they increase with the increasing years and my inclination to recount them is also increasing.

I will not ask thee for improved memory, only for a little more humility and less self-assurance when my own memory doesn't agree with that of others. Teach me the glorious lesson that occasionally I may be wrong.

Keep me reasonably gentle. I do not have the ambition to become a saint -- it is so hard to live with some of them -- but a harsh old person is one of the devil's masterpieces.

Make me sympathetic without being sentimental, helpful but not bossy. Let me discover merits where I had not expected them, and talents in people whom I had not thought to possess any. And, Lord, give me the grace to tell them so.

Amen”

Margot Benary-Isbert

Resolutions 2011

This year I will strive for more proportionality. In my physical, mental,
emotional, social, and spiritual health.

I will seek ways to bring balance in all that I do.

I will have more integrity, following through with all commitments.

And I will be more creative...embracing who I am as an artist and educator.
I will take more photos.

And, I will run faster and have more fun.

And fewer martinis. Maybe.

Here is one of my favorite poems. It is by Mark Doty.

Long Point Light

Long Point's aparitional
this warm spring morning,
the strand a blur of sandy light,

and the square white
of the lighthouse-separated from us
by the bay's ultramarine

as if it were nowhere
we could ever go-gleams
like a tower's ghost, hazing

into the rinsed blue of March,
our last outpost in the huge
indetermination of sea.

It seems cheerful enough,
in the strengthening sunlight,
fixed point accompanying our walk

along the shore. Sometimes I think
it's the where-we-will be,
only not yet, like some visible outcropping

of the afterlife. In the dark
its deeper invitations emerge:
green witness at night's end,

flickering margin of horizon,
marker of safety and limit.
but limitless, the way it calls us,

and where it seems to want us
to come, And so I invite it
into the poem, to speak,

and the lighthouse says:
Here is the world you asked for,
gorgeous and opportune,

here is nine o'clock, harbor-wide,
and a glinting code: promise and warning.
The morning's the size of heaven.

What will you do with it? 

Wandering Around an Albuquerque Airport Terminal

by Naomi Shihab Nye

“After learning my flight was detained 4 hours, I heard the announcement: ‘If anyone in the vicinity of gate 4-A understands any Arabic, please come to the gate immediately.’

“Well -- one pauses these days. Gate 4-A was my own gate. I went there. An older woman in full traditional Palestinian dress, just like my grandma wore, was crumpled to the floor, wailing loudly.

“Help,” said the flight service person. “Talk to her. What is her problem? We told her the flight was going to be four hours late and she did this.”

“I put my arm around her and spoke to her haltingly. Shu dow-a, shu-biduck habibti, stani stani schway, min fadlick, sho bit se-wee?

The minute she heard any words she knew -- however poorly used - she stopped crying. She thought our flight had been cancelled entirely. She needed to be in El Paso for some major medical treatment the following day. I said no, no, we're fine, you'll get there, just late, who is picking you up? Let's call him and tell him. We called her son and I spoke with him in English.

“I told him I would stay with his mother till we got on the plane and would ride next to her -- Southwest. She talked to him. Then we called her other sons just for the fun of it. Then we called my dad and he and she spoke for a while in Arabic and found out of course they had ten shared friends. “Then I thought, just for the heck of it, why not call some Palestinian poets I know and let them chat with her. This all took up about 2 hours. She was laughing a lot by then, telling me about her life. Answering questions.

“She had pulled a sack of homemade mamool cookies -- little powdered sugar crumbly mounds stuffed with dates and nuts -- out of her bag -- and was offering them to all the women at the gate. To my amazement, not a single woman declined one. It was like a sacrament. The traveler from Argentina, the traveler from California, the lovely woman from Laredo--we were all covered with the same powdered sugar. And smiling. There are no better cookies.

“And then the airline broke out the free beverages from huge coolers -- non-alcoholic -- and the two little girls waiting for our flight, one African-American, one Mexican-American -- ran around serving us all apple juice and lemonade and they were covered with powdered sugar, too.

“And I noticed my new best friend -- by now we were holding hands – had a potted plant poking out of her bag, some medicinal thing, with green furry leaves; such an old- country traveling tradition. Always carry a plant. Always stay rooted to somewhere.

“And I looked around that gate of late and weary ones and thought, this is the world I want to live in. The shared world. Not a single person in this gate -- once the crying of confusion stopped -- has seemed apprehensive about any other person. They took the cookies. I wanted to hug all those other women, too.

“This can still happen, anywhere. Not everything is lost.”

Do not cling to life; just let the moment be

now two old ladies sit peacefully knitting,
and their names are sometimes and always

"i can't understand what life could have seen in him" stitch
-counting always severely remarks;and her sister(suppress-
ing a yawn)counters "o i don't know;death's rather attractive"
—"attractive!why how can you say such a thing?when i think
of my poor dear husband"—"now don't be absurd:what i said was
'rather attractive',my dear;and you know very well that
never was very much more than attractive,never was

stunning"(a crash. Both jump)"good
heavens!" always exclaims "what
was that?"—"well here comes your daughter"
soothes sometimes;at which

death's pretty young wife enters;wringing her hands,and wailing
"that terrible child!"—"what"(sometimes and always together
cry)"now?"—"my doll:my beautiful doll;the very
first doll you gave me, mother(when i could scarcely
walk)with the eyes that opened and shut(you remember:
don't you,auntie;we called her love)and i've treasured
her all these years,and today i went through a closet
looking for something;and opened a box, and there she
lay:and when he saw her, he begged me to let him
hold her;just once:and i told him "mankind,be careful;
she's terribly fragile:don't break her,or mother'll be angry'"

and then(except for
the clicking of needles)there was silence