It is what it is

In Robert Frost’s “Hyla Brook” he concludes his poem with, “We love the things we love for what they are.” But do we? Do we really love the things we love for what they are? I don’t know if that is necessarily true. Sure, maybe, sometimes we actually do love things for what they are, the good and the bad, the weird, the ugly, the pretty. There are times when all things considered we still love the thing we love, for what it is, not for who we want them to be, or who they once were. I have before; I’ve loved things for what they are. I do still now…

My favorite place to walk is up and down the random row of trees that are just right of the reflecting pool (if you are walking towards the Prudential Center). When you are in them you forget that you are in the city, kind of, and your only structure is this checkered path. This pathway works for any step, a staccato rhythm, a slow waltz, even a square dance. This evening I chose the slow waltz, a little hard to master when you’re going stag, but like anything else, you learn to manage.

Quote:

Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,

The muttering retreats

Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels

And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:

Streets that follow like a tedious argument

Of insidious intent

To lead you to an overwhelming question . . .

Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”

Let us go and make our visit.

- “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” T.S. Eliot

This entry was posted on July 7, 2008 at July 7, 2008 and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.