A Good Deal of Buzz, and Somewhere A Result Slipped In
Dear Friends,
Although Rilke and his roses and the sense of more-than-physical space await us in future weeks, we are taking today for an acknowledgement of the annoying, buzzing summer fly as an emblem of all that doesn't fit, all that seems to ruin the picture, all that we want to flick away or be rid of. We haven't directly worked with this poem before. It is very Pema Chodren, and offers something we don't want to drop, especially now that we are moving on into Rilke's delicacy of feeling and mystical completeness.
Emerson talked about the "buzz" of life that still didn't prevent results from slipping magically in. But it was Emily Dickinson's subversive, brilliant idea, in a poem about a deathbed scene with its potential glories, to have the proceedings interrupted by a fly. Here's her famous poem:
I heard a Fly buzz - when I died -
The Stillness in the Room
Was like the Stillness in the Air -
Between the Heaves of Storm -
The Eyes around - had wrung them dry -
And Breaths were gathering firm
For that last Onset - when the King
Be witnessed - in the Room -
I willed my Keepsakes - Signed away
What portion of me be
Assignable - and then it was
There interposed a Fly -
With Blue - uncertain - stumbling Buzz -
Between the light - and me -
And then the Windows failed - and then
I could not see to see -
Vast events, like birth and death and the whole significance of the world, are crashing and exploding all around us, inviting us or informing us or boosting us skyward, and we ignore it all, caught up in the buzzing of a housefly. Today, honoring this pest, we'll meditate on the things that catch us, distract us, and almost make us miss the great news. Then again, there is no world without Emily and her buzzing fly, is there?
wishing you joy in all you do,
Michael
ps: Please buy a copy of my book, Be: An Alphabet of Astonishment (Lorian Press, 2022), available here and everywhere. Or many copies! one for you, and one for each of your friends and family....
