{"id":20850,"date":"2019-01-04T06:20:17","date_gmt":"2019-01-04T11:20:17","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/?p=20850"},"modified":"2019-01-04T06:20:17","modified_gmt":"2019-01-04T11:20:17","slug":"all-the-snowflakes-the-pennies-the-carefully-stacked-blessings-of-all-the-days","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/2019\/01\/all-the-snowflakes-the-pennies-the-carefully-stacked-blessings-of-all-the-days\/","title":{"rendered":"All the Snowflakes, the Pennies, the Carefully Stacked Blessings of All the Days"},"content":{"rendered":"<div class=\"intrinsic-container intrinsic-container-16x9\"><iframe loading=\"lazy\" src=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/jymS_7zyy7c\" width=\"800\" height=\"504\" frameborder=\"0\" allowfullscreen=\"allowfullscreen\"><span style=\"display: inline-block; width: 0px; overflow: hidden; line-height: 0;\" data-mce-type=\"bookmark\" class=\"mce_SELRES_start\">?<\/span><\/iframe><\/div>\n<p class=\"smalltext\"><em>[About the video: Monk&#8217;s &#8220;Ruby, My Dear&#8221; inspired one of the two Billy Collins poems below; he might have been listening to it while creating the other, too.]<\/em><\/p>\n<p>From <a title=\"whiskey river: 'Calendars,' by Jim Harrison\" href=\"http:\/\/whiskeyriver.blogspot.com\/2018\/12\/calendars-back-in-blue-chair-in-front.html\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\"><em>whiskey river<\/em><\/a>:<\/p>\n<blockquote><p><strong>Calendars<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>Back in the blue chair in front of the green studio<br \/>\nanother year has passed, or so they say, but calendars lie.<br \/>\nThey&#8217;re a kind of cosmic business machine like<br \/>\ntheir cousin clocks but break down at inopportune times.<br \/>\nFifty years ago I learned to jump off the calendar<br \/>\nbut I kept getting drawn back on for reasons<br \/>\nof greed and my imperishable stupidity.<br \/>\nOf late I&#8217;ve escaped those fatal squares<br \/>\nwith their razor-sharp numbers for longer and longer.<br \/>\nI had to become the moving water I already am,<br \/>\nfalling back into the human shape in order<br \/>\nnot to frighten my children, grandchildren, dogs and friends.<br \/>\nOur old cat doesn&#8217;t care. He laps the water where my face used to be.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n<p>(Jim Harrison [<a title=\"Google Books: 'In Search of Small Gods,' by Jim Harrison\" href=\"https:\/\/books.google.com\/books?id=ms44_tG2d1UC&amp;pg=PT10#v=onepage&amp;q&amp;f=false\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\"><em>source<\/em><\/a>])<\/p>\n<p>&#8230;<a title=\"\" href=\"http:\/\/whiskey river: Howard W. Hunter, on speaking your love (New Year's resolution)\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">and<\/a>:<\/p>\n<blockquote><p>This [year], mend a quarrel. Seek out a forgotten friend. Dismiss suspicion and replace it with trust. Write a letter. Give a soft answer. Encourage youth. Keep a promise. Forgo a grudge. Forgive an enemy. Apologize. Try to understand. Examine your demands on others. Think first of someone else. Be kind. Be gentle. Laugh a little more. Express your gratitude. Welcome a stranger. Gladden the heart of a child. Take pleasure in the beauty and wonder of the earth. Speak your love and then speak it again.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n<p>(Howard W. Hunter [<a title=\"lds.org: Gospel Classics\" href=\"https:\/\/www.lds.org\/ensign\/2002\/12\/the-gifts-of-christmas?lang=eng\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\"><em>source<\/em><\/a>])<\/p>\n<p>&#8230;<a title=\"whiskey river (ibid.): Jan Richardson (misattributed to John O'Donohue), 'Blessing in the Chaos'\" href=\"http:\/\/whiskeyriver.blogspot.com\/2019\/01\/let-there-be-calming-of-clamoring.html\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">and<\/a> (in different format, without the first stanza):<\/p>\n<blockquote><p><strong>Blessing in the Chaos<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>To all that is chaotic<br \/>\nin you,<br \/>\nlet there come silence.<\/p>\n<p>Let there be<br \/>\na calming<br \/>\nof the clamoring,<br \/>\na stilling<br \/>\nof the voices that<br \/>\nhave laid their claim<br \/>\non you,<br \/>\nthat have made their<br \/>\nhome in you,<\/p>\n<p>that go with you<br \/>\neven to the<br \/>\nholy places<br \/>\nbut will not<br \/>\nlet you rest,<br \/>\nwill not let you<br \/>\nhear your life<br \/>\nwith wholeness<br \/>\nor feel the grace<br \/>\nthat fashioned you.<\/p>\n<p>Let what distracts you<br \/>\ncease.<br \/>\nLet what divides you<br \/>\ncease.<br \/>\nLet there come an end<br \/>\nto what diminishes<br \/>\nand demeans,<br \/>\nand let depart<br \/>\nall that keeps you<br \/>\nin its cage.<\/p>\n<p>Let there be<br \/>\nan opening<br \/>\ninto the quiet<br \/>\nthat lies beneath<br \/>\nthe chaos,<br \/>\nwhere you find<br \/>\nthe peace<br \/>\nyou did not think<br \/>\npossible<br \/>\nand see what shimmers<br \/>\nwithin the storm.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n<p>(<del>John O&#8217;Donohue<\/del> Jan Richardson [<a title=\"Jan Richardson: 'Epiphany 4: Blessing in the Chaos'\" href=\"http:\/\/paintedprayerbook.com\/2012\/01\/24\/epiphany-4-blessing-in-the-chaos\/?fbclid=IwAR1bcyqn-6oHLUi3q4ZUDfbykqICdk-ZYDaGa_m_MZeOJ-zzYwhYUo-sbrs\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\"><em>source<\/em><\/a>])<\/p>\n<p><!--more--><\/p>\n<p>Not from <em>whiskey river<\/em>:<\/p>\n<blockquote><p><strong>Days<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>Each one <em>is<\/em> a gift, no doubt,<br \/>\nmysteriously placed in your waking hand<br \/>\nor set upon your forehead<br \/>\nmoments before you open your eyes.<\/p>\n<p>Today begins cold and bright,<br \/>\nthe ground heavy with snow<br \/>\nand the thick masonry of ice,<br \/>\nthe sun glinting off the turrets of clouds.<\/p>\n<p>Through the calm eye of the window<br \/>\neverything is in its place<br \/>\nbut so precariously<br \/>\nthis day might be resting somehow<\/p>\n<p>on the one before it,<br \/>\nall the days of the past stacked high<br \/>\nlike the impossible tower of dishes<br \/>\nentertainers used to build on stage.<\/p>\n<p>No wonder you find yourself<br \/>\nperched on the top of a tall ladder<br \/>\nhoping to add one more.<br \/>\nJust another Wednesday<\/p>\n<p>you whisper,<br \/>\nthen holding your breath,<br \/>\nplace this cup on yesterday\u2019s saucer<br \/>\nwithout the slightest clink.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n<p>(Billy Collins [<a title=\"Google Books: 'Sailing Alone Around the Room: New and Selected Poems,' by Billy Collins\" href=\"https:\/\/books.google.com\/books?id=_uxrn_B6nQIC&amp;pg=PA57#v=onepage&amp;q&amp;f=false\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\"><em>source<\/em><\/a>])<\/p>\n<p>&#8230;and:<\/p>\n<blockquote><p><strong>Snow<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>I cannot help noticing how this slow Monk solo<br \/>\nseems to go somehow<br \/>\nwith the snow<br \/>\nthat is coming down this morning,<\/p>\n<p>how the notes and the spaces accompany<br \/>\nits easy falling<br \/>\non the geometry of the ground,<br \/>\non the flagstone path,<br \/>\nthe slanted roof,<br \/>\nand the angles of the split rail fence<\/p>\n<p>as if he had imagined a winter scene<br \/>\nas he sat at the piano<br \/>\nlate one night at the Five Spot<br \/>\nplaying &#8220;Ruby, My Dear.&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>Then again, it&#8217;s the kind of song<br \/>\nthat would go easily with rain<br \/>\nor a tumult of leaves,<\/p>\n<p>and for that matter it&#8217;s a snow<br \/>\nthat could attend<br \/>\nan adagio for strings,<br \/>\nthe best of the Ronettes,<br \/>\nor George Thorogood and the Destroyers.<\/p>\n<p>It falls so indifferently<br \/>\ninto the spacious white parlor of the world,<br \/>\nif I were sitting here reading<br \/>\nin silence,<br \/>\nreading the morning paper<br \/>\nor reading <em>Being and Nothingness<\/em>,<br \/>\nnot even letting the spoon<br \/>\ntouch the inside of the cup,<br \/>\nI have a feeling<br \/>\nthe snow would go perfectly with that.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n<p>(Billy Collins [<a title=\"Amazon.com: 'Sailing Alone Around the Room: New and Selected Poems,' by Billy Collins\" href=\"https:\/\/www.amazon.com\/Sailing-Alone-Around-Room-Selected-ebook\/dp\/B000XUDH7U\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\"><em>source<\/em><\/a>])<\/p>\n<p>&#8230;and:<\/p>\n<blockquote><p>When I was six or seven years old, growing up in Pittsburgh, I used to take a precious penny of my own and hide it for someone else to find. It was a curious compulsion; sadly, I\u2019ve never been seized by it since. For some reason I always &#8220;hid&#8221; the penny along the same stretch of sidewalk up the street. I would cradle it at the roots of a sycamore, say, or in a hole left by a chipped-off piece of sidewalk. Then I would take a piece of chalk, and, staring at either end of the block, draw huge arrows leading up to the penny from both directions. After I learned to write I labeled the arrows: SURPRISE AHEAD or MONEY THIS WAY. I was greatly excited, during all this arrow-drawing, at the thought of the first lucky passer-by who would receive in this way, regardless of merit, a free gift from the universe&#8230;<\/p>\n<p>It is still the first week in January, and I&#8217;ve got great plans. I\u2019ve been thinking about seeing. There are lots of things to see, unwrapped gifts and free surprises. The world is fairly studded and strewn with pennies cast broadside from a generous hand. But&#8212;and this is the point&#8212;who gets excited by a mere penny? If you follow one arrow, if you crouch motionless on a bank to watch a tremulous ripple thrill on the water and are rewarded by the sight of a muskrat kit paddling from its den, will you count that sight a chip of copper only, an go your rueful way? It is dire poverty indeed when a man is so malnourished and fatigued that he won\u2019t stoop to pick up a penny. But if you cultivate a healthy poverty and simplicity, so that finding a penny will literally make your day, then, since the world is in fact planted in pennies, you have with your poverty bought a lifetime of days. It is that simple. What you see is what you get.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n<p>(Annie Dillard [<a title=\"Awakin.org: 'What You See Is What You Get' (excerpt from 'Pilgrim at Tinker Creek'), by Annie Dillard\" href=\"http:\/\/www.awakin.org\/read\/view.php?tid=989\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\"><em>source<\/em><\/a>])<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>? [About the video: Monk&#8217;s &#8220;Ruby, My Dear&#8221; inspired one of the two Billy Collins poems below; he might have been listening to it while creating the other, too.] From whiskey river: Calendars Back in the blue chair in front of the green studio another year has passed, or so they say, but calendars lie. [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"_genesis_hide_title":false,"_genesis_hide_breadcrumbs":false,"_genesis_hide_singular_image":false,"_genesis_hide_footer_widgets":false,"_genesis_custom_body_class":"","_genesis_custom_post_class":"","_genesis_layout":"","h5ap_radio_sources":[],"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"activitypub_content_warning":"","activitypub_content_visibility":"","activitypub_max_image_attachments":3,"activitypub_interaction_policy_quote":"anyone","activitypub_status":"","footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"Thelonious Monk, Billy Collins, Annie Dillard, et al.: 'All the Snowflakes, the Pennies, the Carefully Stacked Blessings of All the Days'","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[183,247,1393,74,5,251,372,4159],"tags":[295,1141,4306,4850,4851,4852],"class_list":{"0":"post-20850","1":"post","2":"type-post","3":"status-publish","4":"format-standard","6":"category-everyday-life","7":"category-ruminations","8":"category-whiskey-river-runningaftermyhat","9":"category-music","10":"category-06_writing","11":"category-poetry-writing_cat","12":"category-style-and-craft","13":"category-essays","14":"tag-annie-dillard","15":"tag-billy-collins","16":"tag-jim-harrison","17":"tag-jan-richardson","18":"tag-howard-w-hunter","19":"tag-thelonious-monk","20":"entry"},"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p6kZSG-5qi","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/20850","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=20850"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/20850\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":20855,"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/20850\/revisions\/20855"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=20850"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=20850"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=20850"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}