Today was poem in your pocket day. Do any of you participate in this? You leave and take poems and carry one around in your pocket. I did not find any, but I left a few copies of an old favorite around town today. I wonder who found them? If any.
I know I am deathless,
I know this orbit of mine cannot be swept by a carpenter’s compass,
I know I shall not pass like a child’s carlacue cut with a burnt
stick at night.
I know I am august,
I do not trouble my spirit to vindicate itself or be understood,
I see that the elementary laws never apologize,
(I reckon I behave no prouder than the level I plant my house by,
I exist as I am, that is enough,
If no other in the world be aware I sit content,
And if each and all be aware I sit content.
One world is aware and by far the largest to me, and that is myself,
And whether I come to my own to-day or in ten thousand or ten
I can cheerfully take it now, or with equal cheerfulness I can wait.
My foothold is tenon’d and mortis’d in granite, I laugh at what you call dissolution, And I know the amplitude of time.”
-Walt Whitman (from “Song of Myself”)
An old favorite. I know much of it by heart. It comforts me and helps bring me back to the present moment. It reminds me to slow down, have patience. The last lines are good for feeling grounded.
Another phrase keeps coming to mind lately, simply, “It is what it is.” For some reason, it comforts me. About situations which are beyond my control, that I am unhappy with, it helps me let go. Helps me be present.
It is what it is.