Silence or Conversation or Sounds of Creatures,Yes. Noise, Not So Much.

Can it be that all of September has gone by, in its glory, without a new post from me? Falling down on the job here (one I assigned to myself) as fall begins, I will try to remedy the situation with something brief. Please don’t miss the last part.

Perched on our porch today, I hear my dog grooming himself, plenty of late summer insects buzzing and birds twittering, along with the backdrop of human-run machines, planes in the sky, and cars on the highway. Sounds of all kinds — some more in tune with Nature than others. In a moment, I’ll return to this topic of what we hear, how best to listen.

This past weekend, thanks to Zoom, I attended part of multi-day event back in our old hometown.

Good ol’ Emily Dickinson — the most famous ongoing resident of Amherst, Massachusetts.

The festival, which always includes a marathon reading of all 1,789 poems, has been happening for over a decade; the Emily Dickinson Museum considers itself 20 years old now, because it was in 2003 that the Homestead merged with The Evergreens (where the poet’s brother Austin and his wife Susan lived).

Since our family moved to Shutesbury, several miles up the hill, in 2001, and because we became friends with a number of people who have been very active with the Museum, and maybe also because Grace Church was a short walk away, and, if all that isn’t enough, because my Uncle Harold (Amherst College Class of ’34, with a perpetual Brooklyn accent) was a Dickinson fan until he died at age 100…we always maintained a feeling of connection to the place. Now, we live a couple of hours away, so keeping that connection takes a little more effort.

In my memoir manuscript, I even have a whole chapter about my own personal relationship with Emily Dickinson, imagining that she is an actual friend I could stop in on, either before or after church. Groping for my “right” identity as a clergy spouse, I was sure she’d have some valuable insights.

The Friday evening event that I just attended, virtually, was mostly an awards ceremony. Two individuals were honored: Alena Smith, creator of the acclaimed Apple TV series called “Dickinson” and Marilyn Nelson, a poet who has garnered many honors.

I will renew my efforts to get the three seasons of the show (if you have, can you leave a comment here with your impressions, please) because if the Museum staff endorses it, well then, it’s bound to be good. When our daughter was home during Covid, she got us just the first episode, and then those excellent British detective series on Netflix must have taken over. Here’s a link: https://tv.apple.com/us/show/dickinson/umc.cmc.1ogyy5s2agasxa5qztabrlykn?mttn3pid=Google%20AdWords&mttnagencyid=a5e&mttncc=US&mttnsiteid=143238&mttnsubad=OUS2019803_1-662863202790-c&mttnsubkw=125658818828__zJSe8iek_&mttnsubplmnt=_adext_

I am more familiar with the work of Marilyn Nelson for a happy reason: she was our friend when we lived at UConn, attended church at St. Mark’s Chapel; this was before she became poet laureate of Connecticut. A few years ago, I heard a reading she did at the Frost Farm in Derry, NH. When you have a chance, take a look at her website to learn more: https://marilyn-nelson.com/

When Marilyn came to the podium to accept her award, she said something especially striking. “Poetry is about silence.” She was trying to express something about her own writing process, I think, and she chose not to elaborate about it at that moment, but I think all of us in the audience understood that she was getting at how sometimes only in the absence of sound can what is most true reveal itself.

Meanwhile, here in our New Hampshire home, a couple of hours away from Amherst, my husband has thoughtfully arranged all of our books related to Emily Dickinson on the same shelf. Some, like that three-volume set of The Poems (ed. by R.W. Franklin), were generous gifts from people we cherish.

Rob, eloquent in his preaching, has taught me much about the virtues of silence, in fact. While our hikes or cross-country skis or kayak excursions can be enriched by some verbal exchanges, he reminds me that no talking at all is also an excellent option. Turns out, he’s right.

I still maintain, however, that, in addition to meal times, the rare occasions that we’re in the car together provide excellent opportunities for conversation.

Recently, a snippet of my full book manuscript — from an early chapter — came out thanks to a new online publication called “Unleash Lit.” If you haven’t seen it yet, I hope you’ll use this link to get there. Once you’re on the main page, look over to the right side. And if you’ve ever had the pleasure of going on a date in the North End of Boston (or at any really good Italian restaurant), I hope this might bring back some sweet memories.

https://www.unleashlit.com/

Wishing you an October full of wonderful silences and conversations! Thanks for being a supportive reader; it makes all the difference.