Seeing the Sun
"I see the sun, and if I don't see the sun, I know it's there. And there's a whole life in that, in knowing that the sun is there.” Fyodor Dostoyevsky, The Brothers Karamazov
Dear friends,
This past weekend, my lovely friend Mary Kate came and visited me in Massachusetts. While she was here, we (along with my housemate, Kate) went to the Coolidge Reservation, a nature reserve located near Magnolia, MA. (Side note: I find it very fun and whimsical that our names are combinations or shortenings of the other: Kate, Mary Kate, Mary Stuart). It was a cloudy day with a brisk breeze, and the three of us sat together on the rocky cliffs looking out over the sea. We had been sitting in silence for a while when Mary Kate remarked, “I get why writers come to the sea to write.” Having just jotted the beginnings of a poem, I greatly agreed with her.
There’s something about being beside the sea without a phone that is perfect for me when it comes time to write. I find myself closest to God in nature, perhaps because of the stillness I find there. There’s just enough noise—the breaking of the waves, the call of seabirds, the rush of the wind—and yet it also feels very quiet. Not only that, but being beside the ocean makes me aware of how small I am. To look out at the roiling surf and realize that there are countries and continents both before and behind me, and that I am a very small part of them. When I think about my own niche in the vastness of time and space, I don’t feel insignificant because of my smallness. I think that my faith certainly plays a part in that perception. Instead of feeling insubstantial, I am reminded of how miraculous it is that I am here in this time and with these people that I love. And for me, it’s moments like this: sitting by the sea, enjoying a walk in the woods with the sun shining down through the leaves, savoring a sunrise, that inspire me to write, if only to keep a record of the myriad of lovely moments I have experienced. It’s an important thing to keep a record of, as I usuallyremember more difficult moments, for whatever reason. As a dear coworker of mine, Liz, often says, “God gives us good things.” It’s true, and I don’t want to forget those good things.
This idea of remembering beautiful things and being able to hold them in conjunction with the difficult times in life is why the quote I started this newsletter with speaks so much to me. The whole quote is this:
“And I seem to have such strength in me now, that I think I could stand anything, any suffering, only to be able to say and to repeat to myself every moment, " I exist". In thousands of agonies - I exist. I'm tormented on the rack - but I exist! Though I sit alone on a pillar - I exist!! I see the sun, and if I don't see the sun, I know it's there. And there's a whole life in that, in knowing that the sun is there.”
This quote from Dostoyevsky is one that kept me going during one of the most difficult periods of my life, back in the winter of 2021. Dostoyevsky acknowledges the pain that one experiences, and yet clings to the fact that, through all hardship, he is still existing. Not only that, but he recognizes the hope of the sun, and that there is a whole life of hope in knowing that the sun is still shining down on us, even when we can’t see it.
When I write something that I love, something that I feel is truly good, it seems to me as though each word is a note I am striking on a harp, and each time I pluck the strings as I read the poem, the notes thrum into the air, deep and sonorous and illuminated. Other times when writing, some of the notes do this, but not all, or I feel as though the harp is completely silent. This quote by Dostoyevsky is so meaningful to me because it has that effect—each word in it rings with strength and purpose, and it seems as though each hangs in the air for a shimmering moment after being spoken. That’s how I feel the power of good writing, and knowing when my own writing is “working”, so to speak. The words become more than symbols on a page: they become living things, full of power, and I can feel that power moving through them when I write something good.
The difficult part is when the notes don’t sound the way I like. Instead of thrumming in the air, they give more of a “plunk” sound, no matter how I rearrange them or swap one for another. Then it’s easy to become frustrated and toss the poem aside entirely. Which, to be fair, is sometimes necessary! When that comes, I give myself grace. Some poems need to be written, but the time hasn’t arrived yet. Until then, the only thing to do is to keep reading and keep writing and be alright with the fact that not every poem will be perfect. Something that is much easier said than done! But luckily I can keep trying, keep waiting for the sun, and there is goodness and life in that.
Before I close with a poem, I have an exciting announcement! The day I sent out my last newsletter, I was accepted to the Orein Arts Residency! I am so elated and excited to go! I will be leaving for the residency, held at a Benedictine monastery in upstate New York, a week from this Monday. I have been counting down the days for weeks now! Rest assured that July’s newsletter will fill you all in on what it was like to attend, and what I learned.
And finally, a poem for you all that I wrote (unsurprisingly) at the beach a number of weeks ago. It’s a fun one, highlighting the areas I need to grow in with a gentle touch. My inspiration to write it came from the thought, “What if I were to treat the places I feel I am inadequate, the things I am anxious to do, with tenderness?” I hope you all like it :)
"Setting the Intention" Tomorrow I will be a braver person. I’ll come to terms with my mortality, Skip lightly past the graveyard; I won’t hold my breath among the tombstones. I’ll book a flight to someplace on the other side of the globe, Breeze through TSA without a care. It will be me who comforts the nervous girl in the neighboring seat. Sleep will find me on the plane, deep and dreamless. I’ll disembark, a reincarnation of myself, Drive a car into the alien countryside and get hopelessly lost. Try every dish without checking the ingredients, Touch every door knob without washing my hands after. Tomorrow I’ll skydive, swim with sharks, speak in front of a thousand people. But, for tonight, I sleep with the light on.
Blessings and love to all who read this! I hope that your summers are full of light and good, green things. May the love of God tenderly enfold you always.
♡ Mary Stuart