Friday
Feb252011
Keep Quiet
Friday, February 25, 2011 at 07:15PM
Submitted by Jennifer Egert, Ph.D. (before her retreat!)
I’ve been deep in reading to prepare for a 9-day intensive practicum in Mindfulness Based Stress Reduction at the Center for Mindfulness in Medicine, Health Care and Society. Finishing Jon Kabat’s Zinn’s “Full Catastrophe Living,” I was struck by the poem that ended the book by Pablo Neruda, beautifully articulating the call to silence:
Keeping Quiet by Pablo Neruda
Now we will count to twelve
and we will all keep still.
For once on the face of the earth,
let’s not speak in any language;
let’s stop for one second,
and not move our arms so much.
It would be an exotic moment
without rush, without engines;
we would all be together
in a sudden strangeness.
Fishermen in the cold sea
would not harm whales
and the man gathering salt
would look at his hurt hands.
Those who prepare green wars,
wars with gas, wars with fire,
victories with no survivors,
would put on clean clothes
and walk about with their brothers
in the shade, doing nothing.
What I want should not be confused
with total inactivity.
Life is what it is about;
I want no truck with death.
If we were not so single-minded
about keeping our lives moving,
and for once could do nothing,
perhaps a huge silence might interrupt this sadness
of never understanding ourselves
and of threatening ourselves with death.
Perhaps the earth can teach us
as when everything seems dead
and later proves to be alive.
Now I’ll count up to twelve
and you keep quiet and I will go.
I’ve been deep in reading to prepare for a 9-day intensive practicum in Mindfulness Based Stress Reduction at the Center for Mindfulness in Medicine, Health Care and Society. Finishing Jon Kabat’s Zinn’s “Full Catastrophe Living,” I was struck by the poem that ended the book by Pablo Neruda, beautifully articulating the call to silence:
Keeping Quiet by Pablo Neruda
Now we will count to twelve
and we will all keep still.
For once on the face of the earth,
let’s not speak in any language;
let’s stop for one second,
and not move our arms so much.
It would be an exotic moment
without rush, without engines;
we would all be together
in a sudden strangeness.
Fishermen in the cold sea
would not harm whales
and the man gathering salt
would look at his hurt hands.
Those who prepare green wars,
wars with gas, wars with fire,
victories with no survivors,
would put on clean clothes
and walk about with their brothers
in the shade, doing nothing.
What I want should not be confused
with total inactivity.
Life is what it is about;
I want no truck with death.
If we were not so single-minded
about keeping our lives moving,
and for once could do nothing,
perhaps a huge silence might interrupt this sadness
of never understanding ourselves
and of threatening ourselves with death.
Perhaps the earth can teach us
as when everything seems dead
and later proves to be alive.
Now I’ll count up to twelve
and you keep quiet and I will go.
tagged Pablo Neruda, poem, quiet in Non-striving