From Here to There
Living in the moment. Right here. Right now. When we’re young and carefree these things come naturally. But as we take on more responsibilities, we shift our sights to the future and focus on how to get from here to there.
Last week as I was sitting in the waiting room, I thought about how it’s so engrained in me to multitask that I have to give myself permission to live in the moment. I always thought the act of waiting was wasting time and energy. I had no idea that patience could be such a powerful tool. But patience invites her friends Faith, Trust, and Meticulousness to join her wherever she goes.
Those of you who’ve been reading me for a while will remember my saying this, but this example I carry with me: When you sit on your yoga mat, you’re only concerned with what’s happening on the mat, right here, right now. Not the pose 30 seconds ago, no regret. No anticipation of the poses ahead. Just right now.
And even though the mind is always trying to connect here to there, we’ve got to slow it down. “Why? Let’s just get there!” part of my brain screams, which today prompted another part of my brain to whisper, “I learnt the world that space was for.” That’s not mine. It’s a line of poetry from a little purple book. I have it somewhere…
Found it: The Great Cloak by John Montague. The line is from his poem “Working Dream.” It’s a short, powerful little poem, so I’ll give it to you in full:
Working Dream
At the end of a manuscript
I was studying, a secret message.
A star, a honeycomb, a seashell,
The stately glory of a peacock’s tail
Spiralled colour across the page
To end with a space between a lean I
And a warm and open-armed You.
An hour later, you were at the door;
I learnt the world that space was for.
-John Montague
Montague was an American-born Irish poet who eventually became Ireland’s equivalent of Poet Laureate. He lived from 1929-2016, working at prestigious universities in New York, Iowa, California, and then living and writing in Paris and Ireland. He wrote of his boyhood, of love, family relationships, personal and Irish history… He’s published extensively.
I’ve had this little purple book a long time. The price tag is still on the back of the book and it’s dated 3-04-96. And though I haven’t thought of that poem in a while, here it is, right when I need it. [Sometimes the writer brain is a lot like making soup: You pull random ingredients (words) from various cabinets and places in the fridge (brain) and toss them all together to see what happens.]
Poetry, like music, is subjective. There’s what the writer was thinking about, and then there’s what the readers/listeners sense from their own experiences when taking in the music or poetry. (And yet, poetry can be so off-putting to people while music draws them in. Hmm…) So, this poem, to me, is talking about the poet’s love interest, and how these two are not connected at the hip at every moment. There are the things that come between them, beautiful and glorious things, tiny things and wondrous things, which the writer concludes is why the space between them exists. Just a few small words to describe with specific detail a universal feeling. It’s no surprise to me that Montague’s words continue to rattle around in my head after all this time.
The space between now and the future we’re building is equally filled with amazing things. As a kid, I always wanted to stick to the path and just get there already. I never liked dawdling with the side adventures. But I’m learning. In books, in musicals, in life, there are always side stories and they lead to fascinating things. In the beginning of my children’s book, Sully & Friends Cross the Road, Juniper, a young frog, is in a rush to get going and Sully, the wizened old turtle tells him, “Life is full of adventures, Juniper. And they happen during journeys.”
One way or another, we’ll get from here to there. We’ll chase down these dreams and hold them in our hands. And despite our patience and our great focus on the path ahead, we’ll get sidetracked along the way, have some adventures, help some friends, and we’ll discover the whole world that space was for.
