Stay, Stay at Home....

Being a total literature geek has its perks.  Whenever something happens in my life, literature presents a connection that I can contemplate.  Trying to remain strong and pure despite what life throws at you?  Read Tess of the d’Urbervilles by Thomas Hardy.  Wishing you could do some good in a world gone bad?  Read The Power of One by Bryce Courtenay.  Need some sound advice for living well?  Read the poem “If” by Rudyard Kipling.  Also, a smaller perk is that I can sound smart at gatherings by talking about what good old Thomas Hardy wrote about his wonderful heroine Tess d’Urberville, and people think it’s neat that I can say “d’Urberville” so nicely.  I mean, you kind of sound smart when you’re throwing names around like that.  Also, it’s nice to sometimes drive home from work and quote a meaningful line of poetry (and I’m really bad at memorization).  After a hurried week or bad traffic, it’s usually a line from a William Wordsworth poem:

The world is too much with us; late and soon,

Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers: 
Little we see in Nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!

There’s comfort offered in Wordsworth’s poem, and it’s nice to know that I’m not the only one who has felt that the world might be spinning out of control.  This is where a lot of literature’s power comes from:  We find ourselves and our situations when we enter the pages of a novel or poem or play, and it’s nice to find companions in our sorrows and successes, even if they are fictional. 

As I ponder the ways I can fill my summer with valuable, soul-filling things, it should be no surprise that I turn to literature.  Here’s a little poem from Henry Wadsworth Longfellow called “Song”:

Stay, stay at home, my heart, and rest;

Home-keeping hearts are happiest,
For those that wander they know not where
Are full of trouble and full of care;
    To stay at home is best.

Weary and homesick and distressed,

They wander east, they wander west,
And are baffled and beaten and blown about
By the winds of the wilderness of doubt;
    To stay at home is best.

Then stay at home, my heart, and rest;

The bird is safest in its nest;
O'er all that flutter their wings and fly
A hawk is hovering in the sky;
    To stay at home is best.

This poem is imploring.  The speaker is begging his (or her) heart to find rest within the comforts of home.  Wandering and seeking are good things; in fact, everyone should travel outside their home country so that they can expand their world view.  But this poem reminds us that sometimes the best seeking and wandering can be done from the comforts of home.  This speaker is also very cautious of the dangers that lurk outside of the nest.  Sometimes the lure of far-off, distant things can be a treacherous trap.  We perhaps think, “If only I could go to Paris!  Then I would find my heart’s passion!”  or “If only I had gone to college!  Then I would have a more fulfilling career,” or “If only I could afford to travel to a tropical place!  Then I could finally relax….”

If only, if only, if only. 

It’s too easy to get caught up in the “If only” game.   I do it to myself all the time.  “If only I didn’t have to grade so many papers, I could….” or “If only I had more time to read for pleasure during the school year…” or “If only summer vacation weren’t so busy, I could…”  I’m starting to realize that I’m entangled and bound up by my “If onlys.”  They are becoming (to make an allusion to Samuel Taylor Coleridge’s poem “The Rime of the Ancient Mariner”) an albatross around my neck, dragging me down and holding me back.  What does life offer you today, in this place, this time, and under the current circumstances?  Grab onto the opportunity that is within arm’s reach!

So, this summer I’m going to take Longfellow’s advice.  I am going to stay, stay at home and rest my heart.  It will be fun to “travel” through my own little town and act like a tourist (after all, lots of travelers from all over the country like to travel here for the summer!).  My husband and I can visit the local museum, eat at a café, and walk Sherman Avenue like we’ve never been here before.  To be honest, I’m pretty excited about the prospects available these next eight weeks. 

So here’s to making the most of the moments we are given and the places in which we live.