I Come Into The Peace of Wild Things | Fall on Cape Cod
Social media has been something I have been trying to consciously avoid or limit the last few days/weeks because every time I pop on I can’t help but feel the madness. It seems inundated with political propoganda and misinformation, mindless sharing of false viral content, people who use the platform solely as an outlet to complain about companies/organizations/their life, and a whole host of other negativity. That kind of noise has been a little too much for my liking.
That being said though, I did happen upon a poem that a family friend had posted to facebook and found myself reflecting on the words as I waddled my 8 month pregnant self along on a walk with my sister in a local state park here on Cape Cod. Never have I felt so out of shape in my life.
But the benefit of going slower is that you take in everything at a much slower pace and have those moments to really reflect and see.
It actually should be something people practice (or be forced to do) more often in life. Instead, we focus on meeting check points, seeing how fast and how far we can go, and how to cram every minute of our day with something.
Here is the poem:
The Peace of Wild Things (by Wendell Berry)
When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.
I say it every year, I have always viewed the tail end of fall as a time to slow down, the great quieting that the seasonal change brings to most of the phyla. And once again, it tugs on me too. Rest in the grace of the world, and quiet the noise.