Of Life, Family and Homer
I sit in my white chair in the late afternoon, gazing out into the sky. Through the open window I hear the birds idly gossiping, the odd car door slams and voices murmur in the street below. A lazy feeling is strolling through the air and moments elongate into minutes.
It’s been one of those weekends where the time has blown through the days and before I could properly collect myself we’re in the middle of Sunday afternoon. My daughter peeks her head round the door, her fingers full of colourful dust from the pastels she has been drawing with for hours now. She shyly shows me her pictures. When the second enquiry about dinner is made I realise that my time with my chair has come to its inevitable end.
Later I sit happily in the middle of family as the activity of life bounces along merrily all around me. My husband plans the next season of Wisdom In Exile Radio with his podcast co-host on FaceTime while the dog and my daughter create their usual brand of mischief in the background. My son finishes his daily dharma study. I feel increasingly fortunate these days: as you watch your children grow and mature in their spiritual practice you experience the strength of the blessings of our teachers and lineage all over again. The preciousness of this shining time we are experiencing can’t really be described in words. From one generation to the next the light is passed and flows.
We take an evening stroll my daughter and I, she has a pair of new shoes and wants to try them out around the neighbourhood. The light is cooler now. I look up and see an aeroplane floating away into the heights of the horizon. I breathe deeply; by some miracle it seems that we will be flying through the chaos of international travel in a few weeks time to a French location. I don’t think I’ll quite believe it until it happens.
Later on I sit with my Greek texts as the night burns blackly outside, prepping for an intense week of study ahead with my son. A friend asked me recently why my love for Ancient Greek and Roman culture has proved to be so deep and enduring. I’m still pondering the depths of his question; I’m sure there’s a blog post in the future of my eventual response! One thing that I’ve loved about teaching Homer recently is the way that you find yourself in the midst of true wisdom about humanity without even realising it. I’ve been haunted by these words of Menalaus ever since my son and I came across them a couple of weeks back. We’re in Book 3 of the Iliad and it looks like the war might be coming to an end. Paris has offered single combat to the death which will decide who is the victor and keeps Helen and Menelaus has agreed. Here the older warrior is making sure that the oaths sworn will be correctly observed; it is his words on the difference between the young and the old which stop me in my tracks every time.
‘Whichever of the two of us has death and his fate laid up for him, let him die- and you others then part without delay….And fetch the great Priam, to solemnise the oaths himself- his sons are violent men and not to be trusted- so that no violation should ruin the oaths we swear by Zeus. Younger men’s minds are always lighter than air, but when an old man joins them, he considers both past and future, to make the outcome the very best for both sides.’ (Iliad Book 3 Lines 101-110)
What can one add to perfection? The bard sings and the rest is silence
