I subscribe to the
poets.org "Poem of the Day" program. Usually during the week, they feature up-and-coming
poets, and on the weekend, I receive something old and/or well known. This past
Saturday the feature was one with which I was unfamiliar: “Deep in the Quiet Wood”
by James Weldon Johnson. I don’t think I had ever read anything by this
Johnson, let alone recall hearing his name. Granted, there are many poets out
there and even more who play as pseudo-poets for a season. (It’s fun. You
should try it. Be a Transcendentalist for a while; then switch to a Romantic for a day or six before dabbling in haiku and finishing up with a week of sonneteering.)
I digress (something else
poets do). I haven’t written a poem in a while (21 October 2013) unless you
count zombie haiku (20 October 2014) or simple fill-in-the-blank ditties that any
seventh grader could do (16 May 2014 and 8 May 2014). And I’m supposed to teach a poetry class
this summer?
See, now I have digressed
again. I read this new (to me) poem, which J.W. Johnson penned back in 1917,
and it struck home.
“Deep in the Quiet Wood”
by James Weldon Johnson
Are you bowed down in heart?
Do you but hear the clashing discords and the din of life?
Then come away, come to the peaceful wood,
Here bathe your soul in silence. Listen! Now,
From out the palpitating solitude
Do you not catch, yet faint, elusive strains?
They are above, around, within you, everywhere.
Silently listen! Clear, and still more clear, they come.
They bubble up in rippling notes, and swell in singing tones.
Now let your soul run the whole gamut of the wondrous scale
Until, responsive to the tonic chord,
It touches the diapason of God’s grand cathedral organ,
Filling earth for you with heavenly peace
And holy harmonies.
Life for a teacher is extremely busy, especially the last week of
the term due to the world of procrastination that we live in. Students are
constantly expecting 24-7 service when they haven’t paid 24 minutes of
attention over the course of 7 days. And because they have not planned
accordingly, they create a lot of noise. The world is full of noise. My life is full of unnecessary noise right now. Chaos and confusion lurk everywhere.
Don’t get me wrong. I enjoy a hyped-up crowd at a basketball
game, a thrashing mosh pit at a concert, or a good throbbing dance party just like anybody else, but there is something to be
said for silence and solitude. Depeche Mode got it right: we are meant to "Enjoy the Silence," not fear it or shy away from it.
Learning to embrace silence is a gift worth pursuing. If you
have not read Chaim Potok’s The Chosen,
repent and purchase it now. If you have read it, you know what I am talking
about.
True inspiration or revelation comes during
quiet times when we either physically or mentally turn off the stereo, unplug the
phone, terminate the conversations and other distractions of the world. When
you have a conversation with your conscience, the muse, the Holy Ghost, or even
the voices in your head, deep contemplation, clarification, or realization or communion
with God happens. Surely we all need more of these quiet times. I know I could
use more inspiration and revelation.
Sure, you can accomplish a
great deal with others, or __________ (insert your form of distraction here) in
the background. There is nothing wrong with occasional racket or causing a hullabaloo every so often, but your most important efforts are not nearly as effective as when
undertaken in solitude. Commotion is necessary and often even fun, but as L. Tom
Perry said, “We must never let the noise of the world overpower and overwhelm that still small voice” that we need to speak to us.
Sorry, but as a former
liar, one who once thought he did his best work in front of the TV with a CD or
two playing while conversing on the phone with friends of the female
persuasion, I know these things are merely interference. Isolation and quiet reflection can offer more.
I like to think that I am
fairly outgoing; however, if I am truly honest with myself, the introvert wins
out. I enjoy solitude. There was a
reason why Thoreau spoke to me many years ago. If I have company, I prefer one
or two close friends or family members, especially my wife. Most of my work
happens in silence: blog posts, poems, narratives, talks, life decisions. My Masters occurred
in an abandoned apartment and a lonesome park bench, my Doctorate is happening
in the library and my school during the summer. My salvation occurs in the
quiet moments I create for my soul. The closest person-to-person interactions
transpire when neither party speaks: holding hands with my wife, snuggling one of my children, sitting with a friend, praying to my God. “Words are {often} very unnecessary.” Good call,
DM.
Silence, despite the cliché,
is golden.
I have more to say on this matter, but it will have to wait. It's getting a little loud in here.
