Thank you
And thank you, no
Dear friends,
I enjoyed diving into all of your comments last week. Thank you. The titles you’ve given — or taken or rejected or desired — are legion.
I’m writing this earlier in the week than normal, because (for the first time in years, I’ve remembered) it’s Thanksgiving in the United States this week, so my delicious colleagues deserve some time for (delicious, but not as delicious as they) food. Hence, I’m writing this on Wednesday.
I have some ambivalence about gratitude. I mean I took a walk today to think through an essay and looked at the remaining autumn leaves and a neat row of geese swimming along the Hudson and a child pedalling furiously to keep up with the leisurely cycling of a parent, and I felt gratitude. The light and the grey were gorgeous together. That’s one side of the ambivalence, which is not about feeling meh but rather about feeling two seemingly-opposing things strongly. The other side is that gratitude-as-prescription puts a burden on people who may have had to strong-arm resilience into their lives all while the structures that cause their oppression continue on merrily. Thankful lists in this circumstance? Hell no. I want the volta at the heart of revolution, not bullet-pointed gratitudes.
Or, I should say, “Hell no” for me. You can do what works for you. Of course. There are many ways to make a life. And revolution may need gratitude too. Yes yes.
I — like many of you — grew up with too many experiences that were ones of horror. I also grew up loving science fiction, and the parallel universe theory intrigues me. I wrote a poem a few years ago where I imagined a Pádraig from another world — parallel, but slightly ahead (in my science fiction, such anomalies are possible) — who was able to make a window and communicate one thing to a younger me through that world-bridging window. One thing and one thing only. What did he say?
The One Thing
There must have been some other me, who
lived some other time, who realised he
knew the one thing that would save me.
And he must have found a little window,
opened it — and shouted through it —
that saving sound that saved me.
And he must have felt a failure, I am sure,
that other me, because he failed, he did, he didn’t
save me from the other things that beat me.
And he must have sat, like some sad god
from sadder scriptures, and wept at all
he failed to do: he had so little time, and
all my life, I have been climbing up to little
windows — opening them — and saying
the one thing I can say: thank you.From Feed the Beast (Broken Sleep Books, 2022)
What did he say? I think he said “poetry”. That’s all. It wasn’t enough (it never is). But it was enough (it sometimes is).
My question to you is this: What gratitude has been hard-won for you?
In his essay “Letter from a Region in My Mind,” James Baldwin wrote, “I do not mean to be sentimental about suffering . . . but people who cannot suffer can never grow up, can never discover who they are.” Note: He did not say “people who do not suffer”, he said “cannot”, an important difference. There are some hard-won gratitudes I have — with time — come to express gratitude for. There are other things that I will never have gratitude for, because it was a terror to survive the suffering and I’m amazed I did. I know I’m not alone in this. There are things that are easy to be thankful for. There are things I will never be thankful for. And then there are things that have taken time, and it is those damned things that I am interested in hearing about this Sunday.
I’ll see you in the comments, friends. And — it’s easy to say here — thank you.
PS: For those in the NYC area: This Thursday, December 4, at 7 p.m., Krista will be in conversation with poets Joy Harjo and Tracy K. Smith — two former Poet Laureates! both with new books! — at Symphony Space in Manhattan.
Poetry in the World
A list of my events: Online and in the US (Cambridge and Stockbridge, MA; Manhattan, Kingston, and Rhinebeck, NY; Chicago, IL; Berkeley, CA; Washington, DC; Orlando, FL; Notre Dame, IN) and the UK (Iona, Scotland)
December 1, Cambridge, Massachusetts
I’m delighted to be reading with Martín Espada at the Blacksmith House Poetry Series. Admission is $5 and can be paid at the door. (For more info, click on the date heading.)
December 2, Washington, District of Columbia
If you’re in the area, join me at the Washington National Cathedral for a collect writing workshop. Reduced tickets are available for students, seniors, and those with limited income. (For more info, click on the date heading.)
December 5–7, Manhattan, New York
I’m thrilled to be part of the Irish Poetry Festival at the Irish Arts Center; I’ll be doing two events. (For more info, click on the date heading.)
I’m glad to join Mark Burrows for Reading Rilke Today, his free annual Rilke event, in this year of his 150th birthday (Rilke’s, not Mark’s) at 4 p.m. ET. (For more info, click on the date heading.)
December 11, Chicago, Illinois
I’m honored to be reading alongside E. Ethelbert Miller at the 27th Annual Peace Concert, which is a free event. (For more info, click on the date heading.)
From 7-8:30 p.m. GMT (or 2-3:30 p.m. ET), I’ll be sharing poems exploring desire, want, lack, and fulfilment as part of the Iona Community’s Advent events. (For more info, click on the date heading.)
December 19–21, Stockbridge, Massachusetts
I’m leading a retreat called “Poetry of Peace” at the Kripalu Center for Yoga & Health. (For more info, click on the date heading.)
Save the date for an online conversation between me and poet and novelist Reshma Ruia. (For more info, click on the date heading.)
January 29, Berkeley, California
I’ll be presenting an evening keynote at The Center for Faith and Justice. (For more info, click on the date heading.)
February 2, Washington, District of Columbia, and Online
Join poet Marilyn Nelson and me for a conversation at the Washington National Cathedral at 7 p.m ET. (For more info, click on the date heading.)
February 19, Manhattan, New York
I’m giving a lecture on storytelling and narrative poetry at The Morgan Library at 6:30 p.m. (For more info, click on the date heading.)
I’m giving a keynote address at Training Magazine’s annual exposition. (For more info, click on the date heading.)
February 26–March 1, Kingston, New York
I’m leading a weekend retreat workshop called “Poems of Longing”. (For more info, click on the date heading.)
I’ll be giving the keynote for a symposium at the Raclin Murphy Museum of Art. (For more info, click on the date heading.)
May 31–June 5, Rhinebeck, New York
This spring, I’m leading a six-day workshop at the Omega Institute. We’ll read and examine poems and also write and discuss our own. I’d love to see you there. (For more info, click on the date heading.)
June 27–July 3, 2026, Iona, Scotland
Krista and I will be leading a week of conversation (with some musical guests) on Iona, an island off an island off the west coast of Scotland. It is filled, but if you want to be on a waiting list, you can email the Saint Columba hotel by clicking on the title just above here. (For more info, click on the date heading.)
I recall when the sun was an insult
And I drew the shades first thing
And went into the clothes closet
Looking for mourning wear
And there, I caught the scent of you,
Buried my face in your old work shirt
where grief met gratitude.
At 13 I lost my baby sister in a tragic accident in our home. I’ve lived with survivor’s guilt for several decades now. Recently I was thinking once again of her and why am I still here at almost 80 years of age when she had only a couple of years and I suddenly thought: “You are meant to live life to the fullest for yourself, yes, but also for her. You’re living for her as well.” I smiled and laughed and have been doing so ever since, living with great joy and tremendous gratitude for being able to do so. I imagine she is smiling and laughing with me.