Journal of a Solitude
On July 31, 2016 by Speranza
I have no real sense of direction.
Those who love me and know me well accept this and are not surprised by it anymore; but when we set out for Old Orchard on our car trip this year, I hesitantly pored over the map and asked gingerly (in case I was ludicrously off the mark) to inquire if we might go via Nelson, New Hampshire so that I could visit the grave of poet, author and journal-writer May Sarton. The General assessed the map quickly, drawing a finger along the route, turning it a few times, finally pronouncing the idea “not even a problem” and went on to suggest that we pop along to Robert Frost’s graveside as well since it was on the way.
(Can I tell you that I absolutely love not having to justify what most people would consider a totally insane waste of time and my heart just swelled).
He added: “Graveyards on the way down! We really are a fun couple aren’t we?”
The fact is, I was deeply inspired by Patti Smith’s pilgrimages to the resting places of famous writers and I myself have felt really drawn to May Sarton’s grave at Nelson because her journals especially, have lifted me up at many of the darkest points in my life; this is especially strange, really, since Journal of a Solitude was written as she struggled with depression so the book is not exactly a laugh-fest. But as she goes about her tasks, filling the cat’s bowl, getting ‘Punch’ (her parrot) sorted out for the day, observing the way sunlight slants in the window, her mind is calmed and then opened up and she shares that with us.
(I would use the term “mindfulness” here but it’s become so overused these days in Corporate/Infomercial Buddhism that it’s nearly lost its original sense of just being aware and kind).
In point of fact, she sometimes seems an unlikable woman with a fierce, childishly short fuse but she knows and identifies this.
The clarity and profundity she discovers in the pursuit of everyday things really resonates with me. I also find it extremely affirming that someone else has experienced the exact same feelings that I have had.
Sarton’s writing is excellent, full of images of nature, important friendships, aging and her garden all splendidly described. To try and jot down important passages would involve basically transcribing the entire book so I abandoned that tactic a few readings ago!
When we got out of the car at Nelson, (about 3 in the afternoon but still, glittering hot sunshine), there was no sound whatsoever except for a bird trilling a single, piercing note in the distance. There was no one about, no cars. The atmosphere was magical in its silence. We slowly climbed the steep hill up to the graveyard, passing a cool drink between us and found her grave quickly; it was distinctive, a rising stone Phoenix standing out amongst the other plainer slabs.
I left a large black stone that I have had at home for years and said a silent “Thank you” not feeling in the least bit self-conscious or contrived. I traced the scrolls on the marker with my hand, feeling the pits in the stone, taking in the silence and peace there.
I really hope that she would be pleased.
A lovely bit of writing, that. Now, I must go out and find me some May Sarton…. I’ve never heard of her before now, but you have piqued my interest!
She draws you in and interestingly,her books will often fall open at the right page for what I need at the time. Thanks Ms.LS!
I would like to apply to be adopted by you and the General. Love this! I had sort of forgotten about May Sarton lo these many years … must seek her out again.
Yes Jane she is amazing! But she’s not an easy read sometimes …thank you for your ongoing comments and support 🙂