Boléro
BY KEITH LEONARD From the kitchen, I catch the neighbor cross the street to switch off my car’s interior lights. He returns to his house without announcing the favor. For the last three years, a friend has woken early and walked the beach, combing for bottle caps and frayed fishing line. She mentions this only casually at lunch, after I’ve asked what she did that morning. Care has a quiet soundtrack: the sycamore’s rustling leaves, your nails tracing my shoulder blades. A melody that repeats—a bit like Ravel’s Boléro. When it was first performed, a woman shouted, Rubbish! from the balcony. She called Ravel a madman. I think I understand. I wish I didn’t. I’ve been taught that art must have conflict, that reason must meet resistance.
Source: Poetry (December 2023) (for audio)
When I was involved with agencies of "care" I'd blithely say that "Care is being-with in everydayness."
I taught staff in agencies caring for the profoundly mentally disabled, those abandoned and neglected, those requiring alternative or special education, or those dependent and abused. We'd wrestle with "care" -- other-care, self-care, Care-itself. We'd use poetry, theater, psychology, philosophy, social science, and personality preferences.
Leonard is right. Always conflict. Always resistance.
In prison yesterday one of the men, while reading about mind and rationality, gaps in time and breath, put down the text and wondered whether those with Down Syndrome had anything to do with, what he called, (I think) "originary brain" in contrast to rational brain. He wondered if the sweetness and affection so often displayed on the part of a Down syndrome person was the consequence of some original state of wisdom that hides behind-below-beyond our typical exercise of knowledge, reason, logic, and calculation.
A compelling
meditation:
non-resistance,
conflict-less
being-with
one an-other
as care
just might
be
sounding through