Belated happy birthday! I like that you are content at whatever age you are. Too many seem to regret aging, wishing they could go back to a time that was not as perfect as they remember it to be. Age is just a number. You are as old as you feel you are.
I do not read poetry as a rule. (I know, my loss.) I’m not familiar with the works of Philip Larkin, but now I’m prompted to get a book of his poetry. Thank you.
I came across a posting by someone, & thought it worth remembering: The cemetery is filled with people who wish they could have your crappy day.
Rather than words comes the thought of high windows:
The sun-comprehending glass,
And beyond it, the deep blue air, that shows
Nothing, and is nowhere, and is endless.
-------
That's where the long slide leads. How we get there is a matter of choices and chance.
Choices and chance have gotten YOU to 49, so Happy Birthday, Whippersnapper! I'm 20 years past you and I must say (selfishly) I'm so glad you've been here for these past few strange ones. I always feel better after reading you
Of course you do. It's your BIRTHDAY! But the decline and fall part is more Larkinian to me. I like the last stanza because of the invocation of the church windows (Anglican, no stained glass) and the blue sky of nothingness beyond. I think he is having his cake and eating it here. Anyway, I hope you had/have your cake and enjoy eating it, too!
I’ve not been exposed to Larkin previously, but I do believe I will take some of my money from the second floor and get me some Larkin poetry. He uses pretty understated language but packs a whallop. I’m of a similar age (just turned 51) so these ideas resonate with me as well. Congrats on another successful orbit Greg 🪐🚀
I think I mentioned before that I wrote a poem and send it to Larkin and he sent me a letter back on blue parchment. It was dated Christmas Eve, and he sent it from the library in Hull, England where he worked. I found it so sad that he was spending his Christmas Eve working in the library. He liked the poem; thanked me. Somewhere during my many moves in NYC, this note got lost. I will be devastated forever! I’m so happy you wrote about Larkin again. Very poignant. Happy birthday, Greg, and many more!
I must be the oldest member of your substack community, but being just a wee bit "something" I will not reveal here the magic number of my years! Suffice it to say, with each subsequent birthday leading to that great "wherever," I treasure every moment of being alive. For me, that has nothing to do with acquiring or spending money. I am drowning amid the "stuff" of all those shallow years when money did mean something. I feel for whoever has to deal with it all when I'm gone. Sometimes, if a person sees something in my home that appeals to them, I just give it to them. One less piece of stuff to worry about or dust. And as with money, you can't take "stuff" with you!
My mother used to say when she was of sound mind, that she had more friends and family in heaven than on earth. Now, I fully understand what she means. This pandemic only increased my reverence for shared living experiences, shared love, the absolute beauty of the planet, and the urgency to do something to keep it beautiful and to keep healthy ALL of those who live on it now and those who will come.
I read what you wrote yesterday and it's stuck with me since. My grandmother died at almost 99, in the house she lived in most of her life, and the attic was empty. She had never let things accumulate. And I don't believe you are the oldest, BTW, although someone must be! Thank you!
I have tried to follow that old rule of "nothing comes into this house until something goes out" but it hasn't helped much. Even after several garage sales over the years and downsize moving, here's what happens to some of us who outlive others: I have inherited my late husband's "stuff," his mother's "stuff" (he was an only), and his grandmother's "stuff" (his mother was also an only.) In addition to that, I have inherited a boatload of "stuff" from my deceased father (all of his WWII "stuff"), the "stuff" from my mother's estate sale and the "stuff" from my late brother's estate sale. I have enough books in this house to sink a ship and enough dishes for an entire neighborhood. I have my dad's handmade papier mache clown collection, his antique book collection, everything he ever wrote (plus my own "stuff") and all the family photos from my parents. I dread packages at Christmas because lately, my sisters have been sending me MORE "stuff" from all of these estates - they have their own "stuff" to deal with, it seems!
Someone should write a book or a script entitled just "Stuff" - it could be a dramedy I guess! It should not be confused with hoarding - an altogether different disease.
Hope your birthday was fun. This quote reminds me of you.
. "There is a beautiful thing inside you that is thousands of years old. Too old to be captured in poems. Too old to be loved by everyone. But loved so very deeply by a chosen few."
Ha!
Larkin gets it: Life is about Time & Money. Yet these only matter to the Living folks -- afterwards they won't matter anymore
I recently turned 56 contemplating Impermanence & the Great Awakening that remains undisclosed to me. Peace
Thanks! He sure does.
Google Image: great awakening zen skull
Belated happy birthday! I like that you are content at whatever age you are. Too many seem to regret aging, wishing they could go back to a time that was not as perfect as they remember it to be. Age is just a number. You are as old as you feel you are.
I do not read poetry as a rule. (I know, my loss.) I’m not familiar with the works of Philip Larkin, but now I’m prompted to get a book of his poetry. Thank you.
I came across a posting by someone, & thought it worth remembering: The cemetery is filled with people who wish they could have your crappy day.
I wish you Many Happy Returns of the day.
Thanks, Jean. It is indeed just a number. Larkin is solid. Not the sort of poetry where even people who like poetry get lost.
I like the closing stanza of High Windows :
Rather than words comes the thought of high windows:
The sun-comprehending glass,
And beyond it, the deep blue air, that shows
Nothing, and is nowhere, and is endless.
-------
That's where the long slide leads. How we get there is a matter of choices and chance.
Choices and chance have gotten YOU to 49, so Happy Birthday, Whippersnapper! I'm 20 years past you and I must say (selfishly) I'm so glad you've been here for these past few strange ones. I always feel better after reading you
Thanks, Leah. I also like how the long slide is presented as a good thing...the slide to happiness...but is absolutely an image of decline and fall.
Of course you do. It's your BIRTHDAY! But the decline and fall part is more Larkinian to me. I like the last stanza because of the invocation of the church windows (Anglican, no stained glass) and the blue sky of nothingness beyond. I think he is having his cake and eating it here. Anyway, I hope you had/have your cake and enjoy eating it, too!
Yep. That last line saves it all. Ironic, isn’t it?
Absolutely.
I’ve not been exposed to Larkin previously, but I do believe I will take some of my money from the second floor and get me some Larkin poetry. He uses pretty understated language but packs a whallop. I’m of a similar age (just turned 51) so these ideas resonate with me as well. Congrats on another successful orbit Greg 🪐🚀
Thanks, Erin. "This Be the Verse" is him at his most cynical...
I think I mentioned before that I wrote a poem and send it to Larkin and he sent me a letter back on blue parchment. It was dated Christmas Eve, and he sent it from the library in Hull, England where he worked. I found it so sad that he was spending his Christmas Eve working in the library. He liked the poem; thanked me. Somewhere during my many moves in NYC, this note got lost. I will be devastated forever! I’m so happy you wrote about Larkin again. Very poignant. Happy birthday, Greg, and many more!
Oh, wow, awesome! That sucks it got misplaced, but it's still fabulous that you have it. Thanks so much!
Wonderful! Happy birthday.
Thanks!
Happy Birthday!
Thanks!
Happy birthday!
I must be the oldest member of your substack community, but being just a wee bit "something" I will not reveal here the magic number of my years! Suffice it to say, with each subsequent birthday leading to that great "wherever," I treasure every moment of being alive. For me, that has nothing to do with acquiring or spending money. I am drowning amid the "stuff" of all those shallow years when money did mean something. I feel for whoever has to deal with it all when I'm gone. Sometimes, if a person sees something in my home that appeals to them, I just give it to them. One less piece of stuff to worry about or dust. And as with money, you can't take "stuff" with you!
My mother used to say when she was of sound mind, that she had more friends and family in heaven than on earth. Now, I fully understand what she means. This pandemic only increased my reverence for shared living experiences, shared love, the absolute beauty of the planet, and the urgency to do something to keep it beautiful and to keep healthy ALL of those who live on it now and those who will come.
I read what you wrote yesterday and it's stuck with me since. My grandmother died at almost 99, in the house she lived in most of her life, and the attic was empty. She had never let things accumulate. And I don't believe you are the oldest, BTW, although someone must be! Thank you!
Thank YOU!
I have tried to follow that old rule of "nothing comes into this house until something goes out" but it hasn't helped much. Even after several garage sales over the years and downsize moving, here's what happens to some of us who outlive others: I have inherited my late husband's "stuff," his mother's "stuff" (he was an only), and his grandmother's "stuff" (his mother was also an only.) In addition to that, I have inherited a boatload of "stuff" from my deceased father (all of his WWII "stuff"), the "stuff" from my mother's estate sale and the "stuff" from my late brother's estate sale. I have enough books in this house to sink a ship and enough dishes for an entire neighborhood. I have my dad's handmade papier mache clown collection, his antique book collection, everything he ever wrote (plus my own "stuff") and all the family photos from my parents. I dread packages at Christmas because lately, my sisters have been sending me MORE "stuff" from all of these estates - they have their own "stuff" to deal with, it seems!
Someone should write a book or a script entitled just "Stuff" - it could be a dramedy I guess! It should not be confused with hoarding - an altogether different disease.
Happy Birthday, my friend.
Thanks!
Happy Birthday Greg
Thanks!
Hope your birthday was fun. This quote reminds me of you.
. "There is a beautiful thing inside you that is thousands of years old. Too old to be captured in poems. Too old to be loved by everyone. But loved so very deeply by a chosen few."
- Nikita Gill.
That is lovely. Thank you!
I am late with the birthday wishes. Happy 49th from this 70 year old who still likes to think of herself as being young!
Thanks. Young is a state of mind, after all!
Congrats on another successful voyage around the sun!
Thanks!
Happy birthday Greg. I hope you had a worthy celebration. And thank you for the gifts you give us with each newsletter
Thank you!