Tuesday, September 16, 2014

The Sparrow

I was recently reading a book called The Sparrow by Mary Doria Russell and came across a quote that I found to be foundational for me. Before I get into that, I would like to talk about my history with this book. 

I had first been "assigned" to read it before entering my senior year Humanities class. As I had been a late arrival for the class, I did not get to read it over the summer. I began reading it, but found it dry and slow. 

Many years later and still many years ago, I tried again to the same result. This year, however, I began reading it and found it to be quite astonishing. 

The quote that really struck me was: "So many people buried the soul's pain in their bodies, Edward thought." As I was writing about this with my students (because I just had to give this to them as their "Do Now"), I began reflecting on how I not only agreed with this but also realized that this is a foundational belief for me. 

Before I became Muslim, I felt a sort of emptiness in my soul, and rather than answer this call and try to find the truth, I attempted to silence it with bodily pursuits. Whenever I would drink, however, I would still find myself wandering away from others for personal reflection, as if that was what my inner nature really desired. 

It all ties back to one of my favorite poems on this theme, one that I mentioned briefly during 'itikaf this year: Bluebird by Charles Bukowski.

Charles Bukowski

there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too tough for him,
I say, stay in there, I'm not going
to let anybody see
you.
there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I pour whiskey on him and inhale
cigarette smoke
and the whores and the bartenders
and the grocery clerks
never know that
he's
in there.

there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too tough for him,
I say,
stay down, do you want to mess
me up?
you want to screw up the
works?
you want to blow my book sales in
Europe?
there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too clever, I only let him out
at night sometimes
when everybody's asleep.
I say, I know that you're there,
so don't be
sad.
then I put him back,
but he's singing a little
in there, I haven't quite let him
die
and we sleep together like
that
with our
secret pact
and it's nice enough to
make a man
weep, but I don't
weep, do
you?