Illustration picture from the anime Kimi ni Todoke, which should mean “Reaching You”. Â One can only hope.
So by “coincidence”, as some people believe in, I found this small poem by William Butler Yeats on a friend’s blog last night. Â He only uses a few words from it, but it struck me straight in the forehead, because it describes in condensed beauty something I have tried repeatedly to write about, but don’t seem to have uploaded anywhere on this site. So, take it away Yeats!
My fiftieth year had come and gone.
I sat, a solitary man,
In a crowded London shop,
An open book and empty cup
On the marble table-top.
While on the shop and street I gazed
My body for a moment blazed,
And twenty minutes, more or less
It seemed, so great my happiness,
That I was blessed, and could bless.
Does this sound familiar? Apart from the fact that I turned 51 last week, I mean. What he describes is what I in my old journal entries called “pleasure attacks”, but which Ryuho Okawa more precisely calls “moments of bliss”. Â Okawa, author of The Science of Happiness where he also writes about this and much more, has a theory that people start having more and more of these moments if they love knowledge for its own sake, not as a tool. Â He specifically mentions reading lots of books as a typical activity for this kind of people. Â So it is disturbingly spot on when you see the poem and its open book image.
Of course Okawa may well have read Yeats, but I had not when I first started writing about this phenomenon. At the time I also had no idea about its connection to the love of knowledge and reading, but I have had several online friends verify this.
It is interesting that the moment of bliss (or blaze, as Yeats dubs this barely containable surge of energy) is associated with being blessed and able to bless. It is in other words a deeply spiritual experience, and one aimed beyond the individual who receives it. Â This fits with Okawa’s theory that the bliss is an early stage of inspiration, caused by being close to High Spirits (angels, saints, saviors, or at a minimum the spirits of great artists or leaders that have gone before us). Â These spirits live in the Realm of Light and above, and this Light and life and joy radiates from them to people who come close to them. Â (Not geographically, but by alignment of the mind.)
When inspiration breaks through in a clearer form, its purpose is always to create or bring into the world something of lasting value, some contribution to the beauty or knowledge or virtue that goes beyond the individual. Â It is indeed like a Light from above breaking through into this world.
The purpose then is not my pleasure as an ego. Â It would anyway be meaningless for me to love knowledge for its own sake in order to experience this bliss, because then it would no longer be for its own sake. This paradox vanishes when I realize that I am not just blessed for my own sake, but on behalf of those around me.
As for why most of us don’t really begin to see these things until we are past the midday of our lives… I guess it may be a natural cycle of life, but there are some few who arrive sooner (and many who die from old age having never reached it). So I just notice that this is how it was for Yeats and me, although Okawa seems to have passed this way before he was 30. Â Your mileage may vary. Â But as long as you live, it is not to late to be blessed and to bless. Â And perhaps even after this life, for some?
In any case, my 50th year was one in which I learned a whole lot about the spiritual dimension of life. That won’t help me unless I actually become transformed, of course. But it is still quite interesting. Â It really is as if a new quality is opening to life. It reminds me of when I was in high school and for fun put on my cousin’s glasses. And suddenly realized that it was possible to see the world clearly at a distance. Until then I had thought that humans simply did not see individual leaves on a tree until coming quite close, and that things far away were inherently foggy. Â Suddenly everything came into focus, and when I got my own glasses shortly after, I spent weeks just staring at things, amazed at the rich details of the world.
It’s happening again. Â I truly am blessed, but do I manage to share that blessing? I wonder. Â I should try harder.
When it became obvious that I have no discernible talent in any expressive form, I at least went into a field where I can guide others toward great works that express things in ways that I wish I could. Yeats is one of the great writers. It’s difficult to believe you haven’t been exposed to him before. Still, I like Hopkins for such things. He nails emotions so well. You didn’t like his “sprung rhythm”, if I remember correctly, but check out The Windhover about a hawk and the relatedness of God and beauty and nature and joy in one’s heart. God’s Grandeur is another good one. http://www.bartleby.com/122/12.html and http://www.bartleby.com/122/7.html. Very different types of feelings, and neither is exactly what Yeats writes of above, but each is very worthwhile and is a very condensed, distilled “attack” of a different type of pleasure. The Windhover is more of an animal/nature/look what God has made! feeling, while God’s Grandeur shows more of a reflective, even penitent, yet finally warm and comforting and nurturing truth. And, personally, I like his language.
I think sharing the blessing is what we were talking about the other day, isn’t it? We are required by law in Texas to have a “moment of silence” at the beginning of our school day. At first I was somewhat resentful, because although I have no problem with prayer in school I do not want any child who is not of my faith to feel uncomfortable, of course. I wouldn’t want people pushing another religion on my children if we were not in a Christian community, for example, and although we call it a “moment of silence” and there is, technically, nothing required (other than “reverent silence”, which is what I require of my students, out of respect for anyone who might be praying), everyone knows that it is a time for prayer. So, after my initial qualms about the constitutionality of this, I decided it wasn’t my battle to fight and started taking advantage of it for myself. I have no trouble remembering to pray at night and at meals, but I have trouble remembering and/or taking time to pray in the mornings because we’re running around like maniacs. So, at that point, I ask to somehow be a blessing to those around me, whether they be students, other teachers, parents, or . . . whoever. In whatever way I can. I worry, because like we said, if you’re given much you should give back much, and I don’t feel that I’ve accomplished nearly what I should have with what I’ve been given. Still, though, maybe small blessings from day to day will add up. It isn’t as though I’m going to endow a foundation to vaccinate the population of the world like the Gateses or anything . . . but . . . you know what I mean.
Sleepy now and talking too much!
I approve of this comment.
Unfortunately, poetry is far less international than prose. And English is still very much a second language here. So trust me when I say this was the first time I saw that poem, although I vaguely recognize his name.
It is wonderful to have a job where you can bless others. Right now I feel painfully that this is no longer the case for me, but I still hope it can be so again, and then perhaps I will cherish the opportunity more than before.