Hope and aspiration

Evening ensemble, from metmuseum.org

From Jeff Nunokawa's note today:
"One thing essays have always been about (not all of them of course, but enough of them to notice and call part of the tradition) is everyday life: things that come with everyday life (the death of a moth; the rise of the sun). Well, there’s something about everyday writing, especially the kind that aims to help keep you company while you start everyday that reminds me of the morning as it’s been handed down to me. It’s a little repetitive (to say the least, as my mother would say), but also a little hopeful. It’s some weird combination of routine and experiment: writing everyday, starting everyday. I guess what I’m trying to say is this: the faith of our mothers and our fathers you can also find in the everyday writing I’m trying to do here. That faith inheres in a hopeful feeling that goes along with and a little beyond the less than hopeful feeling that you have when you first wake up and realize you have to to get up and do the same damn thing you did yesterday and the day before. It’s the faith that believes that there’s something on the other side of our everyday trying and it’s not all dark."

And a poem my classmates and I discussed today in our Narrative Medicine session:

Aspiration
Henrietta Cordelia Ray, 1848 - 1916

We climb the slopes of life with throbbing heart,
And eager pulse, like children toward a star.
Sweet siren music cometh from afar,
To lure us on meanwhile. Responsive start
The nightingales to richer song than Art
Can ever teach. No passing shadows mar
Awhile the dewy skies; no inner jar
Of conflict bids us with our quest to part.
We see adown the distance, rainbow-arched,
What melting aisles of liquid light and bloom!
We hasten, tremulous, with lips all parched,
And eyes wide-stretched, nor dream of coming gloom.
Enough that something held almost divine
Within us ever stirs. Can we repine?

Tomorrow, I'll have my evaluation on history-taking and the physical exam ('H&P' History & Physical, in med-speak). I'll share songs written for patients and evaluate the impact of those songs. I'll write a final patient case write-up on chest pain. Next week, I'll take the Shelf Exam in Ambulatory Medicine and give a presentation on the songwriting project. Lots to study, learn, write, present! But in the spirit of Jeff's note and Henrietta Ray's poem, I shall climb the slopes of life with throbbing heart / and eager pulse, like children toward a star.

It’s the faith that believes that there’s something on the other side of our everyday trying and it’s not all dark. 

Mystery's Seduction

This poem was written a few months ago, about someone in particular, by someone in particular.

these words are
more than they
are but really
only a façade
of the person
you are it’s
easy to hide
behind words which
have structure and
form but what
happens when they
don’t poetry is
fickle and loved
for mystery most
by the poet


You may know this person.


Ambiguity holds us. We wonder what it means. The mysterious. The unknown. And though we might not always delight in it (though we often do), there's no denying we are innately drawn to decoding it. A simple phrase like "Will you be my asparagus?" delights us because we ponder what the chocolate cake it might mean. ...as does the cake part. (hm, I must be hungry at the moment.)

What is it that is so appealing about the mad scientist, or mad musician? Why is this image so popular in society? It's because there's this wonderful sense of magic, or mystery of how they function. The mad genius is so fascinating because they seem to exist in a world completely unknown to you. Sometimes they seem possessed with a disease, and at the same time this "disease" makes them interesting. 

As observers we are quick to admonish against defining someone by their disease. But what happens when the "disease" is something the victim purposefully perpetrates, whether consciously or unconsciously? Chopin's pale, white, thin figure, his (do I dare say) effeminate manner of presentation, garners him intrigue by the audience. In a case like this, is Chopin the victim, or are we, the audience?






And so you find this post utterly incomprehensible. Good. I have caught your interest.

Desiderata: Does Expressive Writing Make You Happier?

Written by Max Ehrmann to his diary, c.1920

Desiderata

Go placidly amid the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence.

As far as possible, without surrender, be on good terms with all persons. Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even to the dull and the ignorant, they too have their story. Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexations to the spirit.

If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain and bitter; for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself. Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans. Keep interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.

Exercise caution in your business affairs, for the world is full of trickery. But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals, and everywhere life is full of heroism. Be yourself. Especially, do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love, for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment it is perennial as the grass.

Take kindly to the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth. Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.

Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be, and whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life, keep peace in your soul.

With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world.

Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.

I had forgotten about this little piece of prose poetry until my little sister was assigned to memorize it for her gifted class. And I had a sudden flashback to my own eighth grade self memorizing this as well. I'm starting to realize how much that class has shaped who I am, as much as people may scoff and say, "We never learned anything in gifted."


Desiderata raises something of psychological interest: Max Ehrmann wrote this to his diary. Did that make him happier? Healthier? Pennebaker's expressive writing paradigm showed that people who engage in expressive writing report feeling happier and less negative than before writing. In the expressive writing paradigm, participants were asked to write about traumatic, stressful or emotional events for 15–20 minutes on 3–5 occasions. Those who did so generally had significantly better physical and psychological outcomes compared with those who wrote about neutral topics. 


The Pennebaker writing paradigm seems to suggest that the expression of emotion helps to cope with the emotion. However, the results seem to go against another study by Bonanno & Keltner (1997), in which the expression of emotion in facial expressions led to higher levels of grief. This supports the facial feedback hypothesis, somatic marker hypothesis, and James-Lange theory, which all say that the body greatly influences emotional experience. 
"Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexations to the spirit."


Perhaps we can resolve the dilemma of "to express or not to express" in this way: express through the mind instead of letting the body dictate. Perhaps expression through writing distracts from one's physical expressions by focusing energy elsewhere. Perhaps crafting words allows you to look at your experience in a different light, perhaps see it as a lesson learned, or growing experience.


It might not work for everyone, but why not try?--write in a diary, write a poem, write a song. "Be cheerful. Strive to be happy."