{"id":6367,"date":"2019-01-30T10:04:59","date_gmt":"2019-01-30T17:04:59","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/?p=6367"},"modified":"2019-01-30T10:05:45","modified_gmt":"2019-01-30T17:05:45","slug":"may-sarton-the-work-of-happiness","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/2019\/01\/30\/may-sarton-the-work-of-happiness\/","title":{"rendered":"May Sarton – The Work of Happiness"},"content":{"rendered":"

The Work of Happiness
\nby May Sarton<\/a><\/strong><\/p>\n

I thought of happiness, how it is woven
\nOut of the silence in the empty house each day
\nAnd how it is not sudden and it is not given
\nBut is creation itself like the growth of a tree.
\nNo one has seen it happen, but inside the bark
\nAnother circle is growing in the expanding ring.
\nNo one has heard the root go deeper in the dark,
\nBut the tree is lifted by this inward work
\nAnd its plumes shine, and its leaves are glittering.<\/em><\/p>\n

So happiness is woven out of the peace of hours
\nAnd strikes its roots deep in the house alone:
\nThe old chest in the corner, cool waxed floors,
\nWhite curtains softly and continually blown
\nAs the free air moves quietly about the room;
\nA shelf of books, a table, and the white-washed wall \u2014
\nThese are the dear familiar gods of home,
\nAnd here the work of faith can best be done,
\nThe growing tree is green and musical.<\/em><\/p>\n

For what is happiness but growth in peace,
\nThe timeless sense of time when furniture
\nHas stood a life\u2019s span in a single place,
\nAnd as the air moves, so the old dreams stir
\nThe shining leaves of present happiness?
\nNo one has heard thought or listened to a mind,
\nBut where people have lived in inwardness
\nThe air is charged with blessing and does bless;
\nWindows look out on mountains and the walls are kind.<\/em><\/p>\n

<\/a> \u2014 from May Sarton, Collected Poems, 1930-1993<\/a>, by May Sarton<\/font><\/p>\n


\n\/ Image by Holly Lay<\/a> \/<\/em><\/font><\/p>\n

This morning I rediscovered this poem and thought, I have to share this with everyone.<\/p>\n

I thought of happiness, how it is woven
\nOut of the silence in the empty house each day
\nAnd how it is not sudden and it is not given
\nBut is creation itself like the growth of a tree.<\/i><\/p>\n

I like the poet\u2019s vision of happiness as a quiet, steady reality that comes upon us almost unnoticed. Real happiness does not come upon us in a hot rush, only to leave just as unexpectedly. It is not dependent on what is happening to us; it is not the result of events or experiences.<\/p>\n

Happiness is cultivated. It is nurtured. It grows from silence, from peace, and from inner strengthening and unseen growth.<\/p>\n

No one has heard the root go deeper in the dark,
\nBut the tree is lifted by this inward work
\nAnd its plumes shine, and its leaves are glittering.<\/i><\/p>\n

If we are constantly focused outward on action and accomplishment and experience, at best we find fleeting, overly caffeinated, under satisfying versions of the happiness we truly crave.<\/p>\n

For Sarton, happiness is about quiet presence, that which is steady and always there, yet unnoticed in the background \u2014 like solid furniture. It is what supports us and makes our lives functional. It is what populates the corners of our homes, defining the spaces in which we live:<\/p>\n

A shelf of books, a table, and the white-washed wall \u2014
\nThese are the dear familiar gods of home,
\nAnd here the work of faith can best be done\u2026<\/i><\/p>\n

She sees in furniture something of timelessness. The chest or table sits there, year after year, timeless in its unchanging presence, as the days wash over it.<\/p>\n

For what is happiness but growth in peace,
\nThe timeless sense of time when furniture
\nHas stood a life\u2019s span in a single place\u2026?<\/i><\/p>\n

And, when we think about it, our furniture, our rooms, our apartments and houses are where we do our growth. They are the outer containers of our inner worlds. We move amongst them as we feel and contemplate and realize.<\/p>\n

Tables, chairs, and beds are our intimate companions, knowing our movement and our silences. They are bathed in our breath and our thoughts. Over time they take on our energies.<\/p>\n

No one has heard thought or listened to a mind,
\nBut where people have lived in inwardness
\nThe air is charged with blessing and does bless<\/i><\/p>\n

When we do our inner work to cultivate happiness, our mundane material world frames and focuses our inner contentment.<\/p>\n

Windows look out on mountains and the walls are kind.<\/i><\/p>\n

=<\/p>\n

To everyone affected by the intensely cold weather, stay bundled up and warm and safe.<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\n\"May<\/a><\/td>\n\nMay Sarton<\/strong><\/a><\/p>\n

US (1912 \u2013 1995) Timeline<\/a>
\nSecular or Eclectic<\/a><\/a>
\n<\/a><\/a><\/em><\/td>\n

<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/tbody>\n<\/table>\n

More poetry by May Sarton<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

The Work of Happiness by May Sarton I thought of happiness, how it is woven Out of the silence in the empty house each day And how it is not sudden and it is not given But is creation itself like the growth of a tree. No one has seen it happen, but inside the […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[3],"tags":[2239,2238,2227,700],"class_list":["post-6367","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-poetry","tag-furniture","tag-happiness","tag-may-sarton","tag-silence"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6367","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=6367"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6367\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":6370,"href":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6367\/revisions\/6370"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=6367"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=6367"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=6367"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}