{"id":21321,"date":"2019-08-16T12:08:15","date_gmt":"2019-08-16T16:08:15","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/?p=21321"},"modified":"2019-08-16T12:22:45","modified_gmt":"2019-08-16T16:22:45","slug":"wild-semaphores-of-gladness","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/2019\/08\/wild-semaphores-of-gladness\/","title":{"rendered":"Wild Semaphores of Gladness"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"Image:<\/a><\/p>\n

[Image: “Of Permeable Borders,” by John E. Simpson. (Shared here under a Creative Commons License; for more information, see this page<\/a> at RAMH.) When I posted this on Instagram some months ago — as #475 in my “everydaybandw” series there — the full caption read: <\/em>even when a border’s sharply defined, stuff (and the shadows of stuff) will still pass through. Nowadays, politics seems to infuse everything… and yet stuff still slips through, and if we’re attentive we can see it.]<\/em><\/p>\n

From whiskey river<\/em><\/a>:<\/p>\n

Bargain Hunt<\/strong><\/p>\n

for Tessie<\/p>\n

Suppose you found a bargain so incredible
\nyou stood there stunned for a moment
\nunable to believe that this thing could be
\nfor sale at such a low price: that is what happens
\nwhen you are born, and as the years go by
\nthe price goes up and up until, near the end
\nof your life, it is so high that you lie there
\nstunned forever.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

(Ron Padgett [source<\/em><\/a>])<\/p>\n

…and<\/a>:<\/p>\n

The Obligation to Be Happy<\/strong><\/p>\n

It is more onerous
\nthan the rites of beauty
\nor housework, harder than love.
\nBut you expect it of me casually,
\nthe way you expect the sun
\nto come up, not in spite of rain
\nor clouds but because of them.<\/p>\n

And so I smile, as if my own fidelity
\nto sadness were a hidden vice—
\nthat downward tug on my mouth,
\nmy old suspicion that health
\nand love are brief irrelevancies,
\nno more than laughter in the warm dark
\nstrangled at dawn.<\/p>\n

Happiness. I try to hoist it
\non my narrow shoulders again—
\na knapsack heavy with gold coins.
\nI stumble around the house,
\nbump into things.
\nOnly Midas himself
\nwould understand.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

(Linda Pastan [source<\/em><\/a>])<\/p>\n

…and<\/a> (italicized portion):<\/p>\n

The reality of our day-to-day waking consciousness and these moments of liberation are so different it is almost as if a mental fence divides the two. On one side of the fence I am caught in my mind; in my thoughts, my anxieties, my judgments, and my fears. I may on occasion recognize that this is all unnecessary, and that it removes me from the present moment; but such passing insights are seldom sufficient to release my mind from the grip of my conditioning. So deeply ingrained is my attachment to what I believe I should be thinking and doing there seems no way over that fence. Indeed, for much of the time I have totally forgotten there is another way of being…<\/em><\/p>\n

Detachment is not apathy or indifference. It is the prerequisite for effective involvement. Often what we think is best for others is distorted by our attachment to our opinions: we want others to be happy in the way we think they should be happy. It is only when we want nothing for ourselves that we are able to see clearly into others’ needs and understand how to serve them.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

(Peter Russell [source<\/em><\/a>])<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

Not from whiskey river<\/em>:<\/p>\n

The Girl on the Bullard Overpass<\/strong><\/p>\n

The girl on the Bullard overpass
\nlooks happy to be there, getting soaked
\nin a light rain but waving her hands
\nto the four o’clock freeway traffic
\nin which I’m anything but happy.<\/p>\n

You might think she’s too dumb
\nto come in out of the rain, but rain
\nor shine, it doesn’t seem to matter.
\nShe’s there most every afternoon,
\nas if she does this for a living.<\/p>\n

Some living, I’d say. Doesn’t she ever
\nget bored, or wish someone would stop
\nand say, “Where to?” and her life would change?
\nThat’s how I’d be, hating the noise,
\nthe stink of exhaust, the press of people.<\/p>\n

I can’t imagine what her life is;
\nmine is confused and often fretful.
\nBut there’s something brave about standing alone
\nin the rain, waving wild semaphores
\nof gladness to impatient passersby<\/p>\n

too tired or preoccupied to care.
\nSeeing her at her familiar station
\nI suddenly grin like a fool, wave back,
\nand forgive the driver to my right,
\nwho is sullen and staring as I pass.<\/p>\n

I find her in my rear-view mirror,
\nthen head for a needed drink and supper.
\nI don’t know where she goes, but I hope
\nit’s to a place she loves. I hope the rain
\nlets up. I hope she’s there tomorrow.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

(Peter Everwine, Listening Long and Late [source<\/em><\/a>])<\/p>\n

…and:<\/p>\n

What I \u201cdiscovered\u201d was that happiness is not something that happens. It is not the result of good fortune or random chance. It is not something that money can buy or power command. It does not depend on outside events, but, rather, on how we interpret them. Happiness, in fact, is a condition that must be prepared for, cultivated, and defended privately by each person. People who learn to control inner experience will be able to determine the quality of their lives, which is as close as any of us can come to being happy.<\/p>\n

Yet we cannot reach happiness by consciously searching for it. “Ask yourself whether you are happy,” said J.S. Mill, “and you cease to be so.” It is by being fully involved with every detail of our lives, whether good or bad, that we find happiness, not by trying to look for it directly.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

(Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi [source<\/em><\/a>])<\/p>\n

…and:<\/p>\n

Pancake?<\/strong><\/p>\n

Who wants a pancake,
\nSweet and piping hot?
\nGood little Grace looks up and says,
\n“I’ll take the one on top.”
\nWho else wants a pancake,
\nFresh off the griddle?
\nTerrible Teresa smiles and says,
\n“I’ll take the one in the middle.”<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

(Shel Silverstein [source<\/em><\/a>])<\/p>\n

__________________________<\/p>\n

Note:<\/strong> If you’ve kept more careful track than I have of the poems (etc.) I include in this <\/em>whiskey river fridays series, you may recognize Peter Everwine’s “The Girl on the Bullard Overpass” from a post<\/a> in November, 2017. Obviously, something about the poem strikes a chime in me!<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

[Image: “Of Permeable Borders,” by John E. Simpson. (Shared here under a Creative Commons License; for more information, see this page at RAMH.) When I posted this on Instagram some months ago — as #475 in my “everydaybandw” series there — the full caption read: even when a border’s sharply defined, stuff (and the shadows […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":21331,"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":"Ron Padgett, Linda Pastan, et al.: 'Wild Semaphores of Gladness'","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":[247,1393,4701,250,5,251,4159],"tags":[249,271,1812,4387,4565,4956,4957,4958,4959],"class_list":{"0":"post-21321","1":"post","2":"type-post","3":"status-publish","4":"format-standard","5":"has-post-thumbnail","7":"category-ruminations","8":"category-whiskey-river-runningaftermyhat","9":"category-my-photography","10":"category-art","11":"category-06_writing","12":"category-poetry-writing_cat","13":"category-essays","14":"tag-unhappiness","15":"tag-happiness","16":"tag-linda-pastan","17":"tag-peter-everwine","18":"tag-ron-padgett","19":"tag-peter-russell","20":"tag-mihaly-csikszentmihalyi","21":"tag-shel-silverstein","22":"tag-the-golden-middle","23":"entry"},"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/08\/ofpermeableborders_johnesimpson_thumb.jpg?fit=500%2C334&ssl=1","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p6kZSG-5xT","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/21321","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=21321"}],"version-history":[{"count":12,"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/21321\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":21336,"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/21321\/revisions\/21336"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/21331"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=21321"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=21321"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=21321"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}