The Year of the Hula Hoop
And the Eternal Yes
It’s been a day.
I woke up, scanned the headlines.
Rescanned the headlines, just in case I made it all up.
Took my dog for a walk.
The world feels alien when I read the newspaper, but, outside in the morning, seeing the way my dog sniffs the curb, pees on a forsythia bush, barks at the sound of leaves blowing across the street — all against the backdrop of some of the most beautiful mountains in the world — reminds me that nature is more stubborn and more sure of herself and more solid and dependable than all the powerful men in the world.
Which makes me think of windows. (Also, defenestration, but that’s a thought for a different day.)
I had a poetry professor who said that the job of a poet is to show the reader the view out the poet’s particular window.
So, let’s pretend that everyone who says anything, is a poet. And all the poets (be they good or bad) are only showing us what they see out the window.
If you were sitting next to me right now, looking out my window, you might see a chimney, a street lamp, the beige stucco house with stains down the eaves. And when I look out my window with you, I might see the thumbs of leaves from the silver birch, the pink edge of the clouds, the snow etching out ridges on the mountain, the memory of the night we all ran out in the rain.
Same window. So many possible stories.
Right now though, it doesn’t feel like we’re looking out windows. It feels like we’re all looking through hula hoops — and we’re chasing these hula hoops down the street as they roll and roll and the stories change and change and change.
So, I guess the thing is, we all need to make sure we’re chasing the hula hoop we want to be chasing.
Like George. George from the 1985 film adaptation of A Room with a View. In one of my favorite scenes, he climbs a tree and then shouts with all the energy of his soul:
Joy!
Beauty!
Truth!
Love!
And his father explains to the picnickers nearby that:
He’s saying his creed.
He’s declaring the eternal yes!
I guess that’s the hula hoop I want to chase.
I want to look out at the world with people who have a creed of joy, beauty, truth, and love. I want to be with people declaring the eternal yes.
I can’t start wars, or end them. But I can at least write about the view from my room. And remind myself, and maybe even you, that the roots of the mountains are deep and the sky is enchanting at all times of day.
