Mulish & Co.

In Memoriam: Maurice Sendak, 1928 - 2012

Oh, Maurice, are you where the wild things are now? Have you been embraced in the land of the unknown and unfamiliar and made king? May the monsters of the forest open their hearts for you, hold you close and keep you warm. Thank you for staying with us on this side, in this land for as long as you did. Rest, child. Rest.

The Summer Day

by Mary Oliver

 

Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean-
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down-
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
With your one wild and precious life?

Inspiration: I'll Take It Where I Can Get It

I am drawn to the idea of a writing practice. The term itself is forgiving and reminds me that there is room for error, it reminds me that I am a novice and all that is required of me is to return, again and again, to my chair, to my notebook. It sounds deceptively simple, much like meditation practice which is anyting but simple. Admittedly, I struggle but if I don't show up, if I don't try to quiet my mind, I have regrets and I am haunted the rest of the day thinking, "What if? What if I had tapped into that place and five pages worth of story flowed out and I was there to catch it?" All I know is that I'll never know unless I show up and sit down; unless I practice.

Baby knows exactly what she wants and she practices everyday with due diligence. She wants a morsel of chicken, of fish, of cheese. She wants something other than what is in the Nutro can. So she shows up. She sits. Every. Day.

This is her practice. Some days she is successful, other days she is not. She does not know at the outset what the days' practice will bring, she only knows that she has to try. She has to sit and put in the time. And if she is lucky, the fruit of her labor, her attentiveness, her commitment to her practice will pay off.

What I respect most about her is that there are days when she gets absolutely nothing but she still shows up the next time.  I know that some of you will read this and think she's just a dog for chrissake. You'll  chalk it up to blind optimism or survival and maybe you're right.  I shrug my shoulders. So what? I like what I see. I see commitment, I see my inspiration. "Just show up, just put in the time," she tells me and I follow her lead.

Quote: Rainer Maria Rilke

"You must give birth to your images. They are the future waiting to be born. Fear not the strangeness you feel. The future must enter you long before it happens. Just wait for the birth, for the hour of new clarity."

— Rainer Maria Rilke

Ira Glass on Storytelling

Ira Glass on Storytelling from David Shiyang Liu on Vimeo.