There is something about a bowl full of apples that makes me feel like everything is going to be alright. Here's a bowl full of apples at my house. Isn't it beautiful?

I had to wake Dan up in the middle of the night on Wednesday, my entire face, throat, and even my teeth were in the type of pain that you have to concentrate on, that makes you wriggle around, that you have to breath through. I'd had a flu for about a week and the pain turned out to be from an ear infection. I've had trouble with these in the past, but never had pain that radiated around my whole face. I was so relieved when the Doctor looked in my ear and said, "Oooooo. Yeah. That's bad," that I started crying, humbled. Please, no get well wishes. I am on the mend- send your prayers to someone who needs them more. 

When I studied Zen Haiku with writer and artist Jeb Barton (Here is a link to Jeb's Zenga paintings) he said that when you see something beautiful what is really happening in that moment is that you become beauty. Last night, after I finally slept for a little bit for the first time in nearly 48 hours, we put everyone in the car and drove a block to the little park near our house. It was a beautiful fall evening, the sky was orange, the leaves were dusky pinks and reds, and the trees were black silhouettes. I drank the beauty in like a glass of cool water and was nourished.

When I first began studying with Jeb, he told me that Haiku was anti-poetry. It's cutting out the tools that writers most depend on- descriptors, metaphors, and language that tries to "do" something. Haiku is about the moment before a moment. It's when something strikes you and you don't know why, and you examine what's in front of you and try to get back to the source of what struck you. It's trying to get to that pure place where you were struck, before any of your thoughts got in the way and tried to impose meaning and story. It's actually quite difficult to do. (Oh and also, forget the whole 5, 7, 5 thing being a requirement. Apparently it doesn't really translate from Japanese to English.)

I wish I could write a Haiku about the bowlful of apples and figure out why it strikes me and comforts me, but I'll have to let that one percolate. Anyone have any Haikus they've written? Or want to share a moment of beauty that nourished them this week?  

Comment