Now I Become Myself - written by May Sarton in 1950
Now I become myself. It's taken
Time, many years and places;
I have been dissolved and shaken,
Worn other people's faces,
Run madly, as if Time were there,
Terribly old, crying a warning,
"Hurry, you will be dead before—"
(What? Before you reach the morning?
Or the end of the poem is clear?
Or love safe in the walled city?)
Now to stand still, to be here,
Feel my own weight and density!
The black shadow on the paper
Is my hand; the shadow of a word
As thought shapes the shaper
Falls heavy on the page, is heard.
All fuses now, falls into place
From wish to action, word to silence,
My work, my love, my time, my face
Gathered into one intense
Gesture of growing like a plant.
As slowly as the ripening fruit
Fertile, detached, and always spent,
Falls but does not exhaust the root,
So all the poem is, can give,
Grows in me to become the song,
Made so and rooted by love.
Now there is time and Time is young.
O, in this single hour I live
All of myself and do not move.
I, the pursued, who madly ran,
Stand still, stand still, and stop the sun!
_________________________________________
Time, many years and places;
I have been dissolved and shaken,
Worn other people's faces,
Run madly, as if Time were there,
Terribly old, crying a warning,
"Hurry, you will be dead before—"
(What? Before you reach the morning?
Or the end of the poem is clear?
Or love safe in the walled city?)
Now to stand still, to be here,
Feel my own weight and density!
The black shadow on the paper
Is my hand; the shadow of a word
As thought shapes the shaper
Falls heavy on the page, is heard.
All fuses now, falls into place
From wish to action, word to silence,
My work, my love, my time, my face
Gathered into one intense
Gesture of growing like a plant.
As slowly as the ripening fruit
Fertile, detached, and always spent,
Falls but does not exhaust the root,
So all the poem is, can give,
Grows in me to become the song,
Made so and rooted by love.
Now there is time and Time is young.
O, in this single hour I live
All of myself and do not move.
I, the pursued, who madly ran,
Stand still, stand still, and stop the sun!
_________________________________________
This poem resonated with me, as did the Mobius Strip. It is an excellent analogy for the way that I would like to view my life.
The Mobius Strip
The message becomes clear:
“Whatever is inside us continually flows outward to help form, or deform, the world–and whatever is outside us continually flows inward to help form, or deform, our lives. The Mobius strip is like life itself: here, ultimately, there is only one reality.”
There is no place to hide. “We are constantly engaged in a seamless exchange between whatever is “out there” and whatever is “in here,” participating in the creation of reality, for better or for worse.”
Understanding this has helped me to purge a lot more “out there” so that I can enrich and simplify what is going on “in here.”
As T.S. Eliot suggested:
We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.
From Your Soul’s Journey to Wholeness by Parker J. Palmer, Spirituality & Health , September/October 2004
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