As I have written before, it was your soul-saving book of discovery “Bittersweet” that not only provided me with important intellectual and emotional frameworks for dealing with the grief of losing my wife and lifelong partner, but also introduced, in a magical supportive role, the musical poetry and spiritual wonders of Leonard Cohen who I previously didn’t know of except for Hallelujah. Who knows where I was? “Days of Kindness” well reflects how deeply we can reach within and write a few lines with simple words that make us cry, nonetheless. And here I am, most days asking “Alexa” to play songs by Leonard Cohen, or when I’m back at my office desk, Spotify’s “DJ” starts me off with LC’s work. Somehow, he connects me with something reassuring, though sad, and I feel I’m “longing” with him and so many others for what has been lost. At the least, we can share.
My husband suddenly left me when our baby was only a year old. 37 years later, I still feel the pain. I never remarried. He married the "girl" he left me for and had other children with her but he didn't see our child again after she was a toddler. Just a few years ago, his mother called our daughter and asked to see her. My daughter thought about it for a few days but said no. Cohen romanticized the cruel thing he did as a young man but mothers are left to pick up the pieces. It took everything I had. But the line that gets me is, "I pray that loving memory exists for them too". That's very hard with abandonment. That event altered my life and most importantly, the life of my child forever. Not only did his parting plunge us into poverty that took years to overcome but our daughter grew up without a father. Some things can't be overcome. Perhaps loving memory comes late in life as it did with my mother in law.
What a sad destiny, Donna … I would argue that people always have to have the choice to take the way that leads them on their soul path - even if it sometimes means to leave someone behind and thus cause pain … it also happened to me when my beloved partner and soulmate left me - with no reason, I thought. It took me almost 10 years to recover from that. Now I am glad it happened - because without him I had to find my own path and did. But the responsibility for a child is probably a different matter; when the other part of the parents - in this case you - has to carry the consequences. I am very sorry to hear this.
That is a great poem! And I must confess, I don’t know much about Leonard Cohen, his art and life. The part about tears coming up through the spine - that’s really beautiful. I know what it is to have those tears and that language is perfect.
As far as AI music goes... Can AI play cello? Violin? Guitar? Sing opera? Imagine “Audrey Audix” singing opera... I read Psalm 139 every morning as a reminder. A machine can never replace a human being.
This is exactly it, Susan. Artificial intelligence has no soul, therefore, it cannot ever replace a human mind or human heart. Can it be used as a tool? Absolutely, as any other tool could be used. But as a replacement to humanity (and by extension, to plants and animals)? Not a chance.
It speaks to a kind of regret not often addressed. I love Daniel Pink (!) but his book on regrets missed this too. I think the problem lies in that there is only this one word for“regret” in English. (I wonder if different languages also have only 1 word for regret.) There is the category of regretting what you didn’t do, paths not taken, etc. that people say you’ll think about at the end of life. There’s a deeper kind of regret. Technically, LC “didn’t take the path” with his wife and child. However, it’s a different category from not taking a career path or not taking more risks in life or relationships. Adam Grant posted recently about the choices we make that do not match our moral compass. That kind of soul wrenching reflection on our past needs a different word. At least for now, we have artists who express this inexpressible pain through music, poetry and other art forms. That actually makes a pretty good definition of what art is, come to think of it.
This has become another one of your deeply healing missives. I love what others have written here in response. I don’t feel alone with the my deepest pain and regrets.
Whew, that poem! I’ve been overthrown many times but it’s led me to have my own back. I see it now as the gift that came out of all the heartache. As for AI? No way, I will shun it at all costs.
I think the line you wrote in summary of the poem’s theme is even more meaningful than the poem itself, and beautifully encapsulates the concept of time passed: “Here he is, recalling all that from the great distance of age.”
Your missives of beauty winging their way into my inbox, wildflowers growing on landfills! What a joy!
My Mom was left as a 23-year old with 3 kids. She insisted on sticking with a religious cult, and she wanted my Dad to be a teetotaler. I grew up with the pain of being left, and of leaving - the high-demand religious group practices shunning, so I was on both sides of that transaction.
My Dad became my greatest ally and supporter 30 years later when I could no longer stay in that world and raise my daughters in a world like that. My Mom spent a lot of time and effort making sure we knew Dad was the bad guy, but in the end she still practices shunning and I haven't talked to her in 14 years.
I have also been the one leaving my own daughters. Not on purpose, not all someone else's fault, and yet the cult isolation and lack of support resources - I had never talked to a counselor until I was in my late 30s, after going through leaving, going through a divorce, going through self-created legal issues - I was the proverbial spring that was squeezed tight too long then when freedom came I went shooting off into who knows where - and now my daughters have also not talked to me in years, but not due to religion.
Leonard Cohen's poetry and gravelly voice tell the truths where we are all in it, and we all hurt and hurt each other, usually without meaning to. But that doesn't matter much for the ones that feel it. Somehow that pain is held and becomes sublime and a source of compassionate understanding - not only for the others whom I've hurt, but also for myself for being a confused, overwhelmed, and scared little kid with a wife and kids, like my own parents.
And the pain travels up my own spine and trickles out the corners of my own eyes. But it is not regret exactly, not feeling sorry for myself, it is the tracks of love never lost.
I'm also aware that the stories told on the other ends of all these actions and transactions would be different than mine, and that's OK.
Thank you so much for sharing a taste of your life, loves and losses with us. (I sometimes wonder if, as per the many-worlds theory of the universe, there is a world out there where humans don't hurt each other so much - or even at all.)
I like the idea that a plane of existence or consciousness may exist where all the hurts, intentional and unintentional, are understood, and the whole picture emerges, and though the pain was and is real, it ceases to be personal, but instead is universal, and also (only) human. That plane comes into the present sometimes, but maybe it's another of the many worlds. :-)
First thank you for sharing. The poem touched my heart and soul and brought a tear to my eye. I remember the choices I have made and the impact they have left on my heart and soul and on others. His music speaks directly to our inner self and dares us to be honest even though it is painful, which is why I believe his music is timeless. We all make difficult choices in our lives, we hurt people we love, we learn, we grow and if we are lucky we get to embrace our messy humanity each and every day.
As for AI, it will have it place in our world and in our future. In my humble opinion it will NEVER replace the human side of our creativity which flows in art, music, poetry and it will NEVER replace that fact that we are flesh and blood and heart and soul and we are living, breathing stardust.
As I am now in my 60s, there are plenty of loves I’ve left behind. Human and otherwise. I love this poem for its honesty and its grief. Since I have the benefit of knowing that the child was not Leonard Cohen’s, and he and Marianne stayed friends forever, wisdom tells me that the lifelong friendship and lived experiences may have overcome whatever romantic love was forsaken.
As I have written before, it was your soul-saving book of discovery “Bittersweet” that not only provided me with important intellectual and emotional frameworks for dealing with the grief of losing my wife and lifelong partner, but also introduced, in a magical supportive role, the musical poetry and spiritual wonders of Leonard Cohen who I previously didn’t know of except for Hallelujah. Who knows where I was? “Days of Kindness” well reflects how deeply we can reach within and write a few lines with simple words that make us cry, nonetheless. And here I am, most days asking “Alexa” to play songs by Leonard Cohen, or when I’m back at my office desk, Spotify’s “DJ” starts me off with LC’s work. Somehow, he connects me with something reassuring, though sad, and I feel I’m “longing” with him and so many others for what has been lost. At the least, we can share.
What do you think he means by "overthrew" the precious ones?
My husband suddenly left me when our baby was only a year old. 37 years later, I still feel the pain. I never remarried. He married the "girl" he left me for and had other children with her but he didn't see our child again after she was a toddler. Just a few years ago, his mother called our daughter and asked to see her. My daughter thought about it for a few days but said no. Cohen romanticized the cruel thing he did as a young man but mothers are left to pick up the pieces. It took everything I had. But the line that gets me is, "I pray that loving memory exists for them too". That's very hard with abandonment. That event altered my life and most importantly, the life of my child forever. Not only did his parting plunge us into poverty that took years to overcome but our daughter grew up without a father. Some things can't be overcome. Perhaps loving memory comes late in life as it did with my mother in law.
What a sad destiny, Donna … I would argue that people always have to have the choice to take the way that leads them on their soul path - even if it sometimes means to leave someone behind and thus cause pain … it also happened to me when my beloved partner and soulmate left me - with no reason, I thought. It took me almost 10 years to recover from that. Now I am glad it happened - because without him I had to find my own path and did. But the responsibility for a child is probably a different matter; when the other part of the parents - in this case you - has to carry the consequences. I am very sorry to hear this.
Bless, Susan. Thank you for sharing another wonderful creative piece. ❤️
This poem is a tender way of acknowledging that "you can't have it all".
The bittersweetness of LC's words. His beautiful writing encompassing the pain within.
For me, what stood out even more was the emergent beauty of this community each resonating with their own story.
What a beautiful way to show how art can truly connect us and transform art itself.
Susan's words, the spark. The collective resonance, a big-bang of beauty.
Thank you for this.
That is a great poem! And I must confess, I don’t know much about Leonard Cohen, his art and life. The part about tears coming up through the spine - that’s really beautiful. I know what it is to have those tears and that language is perfect.
As far as AI music goes... Can AI play cello? Violin? Guitar? Sing opera? Imagine “Audrey Audix” singing opera... I read Psalm 139 every morning as a reminder. A machine can never replace a human being.
This is exactly it, Susan. Artificial intelligence has no soul, therefore, it cannot ever replace a human mind or human heart. Can it be used as a tool? Absolutely, as any other tool could be used. But as a replacement to humanity (and by extension, to plants and animals)? Not a chance.
It speaks to a kind of regret not often addressed. I love Daniel Pink (!) but his book on regrets missed this too. I think the problem lies in that there is only this one word for“regret” in English. (I wonder if different languages also have only 1 word for regret.) There is the category of regretting what you didn’t do, paths not taken, etc. that people say you’ll think about at the end of life. There’s a deeper kind of regret. Technically, LC “didn’t take the path” with his wife and child. However, it’s a different category from not taking a career path or not taking more risks in life or relationships. Adam Grant posted recently about the choices we make that do not match our moral compass. That kind of soul wrenching reflection on our past needs a different word. At least for now, we have artists who express this inexpressible pain through music, poetry and other art forms. That actually makes a pretty good definition of what art is, come to think of it.
This has become another one of your deeply healing missives. I love what others have written here in response. I don’t feel alone with the my deepest pain and regrets.
Whew, that poem! I’ve been overthrown many times but it’s led me to have my own back. I see it now as the gift that came out of all the heartache. As for AI? No way, I will shun it at all costs.
🌹
I think the line you wrote in summary of the poem’s theme is even more meaningful than the poem itself, and beautifully encapsulates the concept of time passed: “Here he is, recalling all that from the great distance of age.”
Your missives of beauty winging their way into my inbox, wildflowers growing on landfills! What a joy!
My Mom was left as a 23-year old with 3 kids. She insisted on sticking with a religious cult, and she wanted my Dad to be a teetotaler. I grew up with the pain of being left, and of leaving - the high-demand religious group practices shunning, so I was on both sides of that transaction.
My Dad became my greatest ally and supporter 30 years later when I could no longer stay in that world and raise my daughters in a world like that. My Mom spent a lot of time and effort making sure we knew Dad was the bad guy, but in the end she still practices shunning and I haven't talked to her in 14 years.
I have also been the one leaving my own daughters. Not on purpose, not all someone else's fault, and yet the cult isolation and lack of support resources - I had never talked to a counselor until I was in my late 30s, after going through leaving, going through a divorce, going through self-created legal issues - I was the proverbial spring that was squeezed tight too long then when freedom came I went shooting off into who knows where - and now my daughters have also not talked to me in years, but not due to religion.
Leonard Cohen's poetry and gravelly voice tell the truths where we are all in it, and we all hurt and hurt each other, usually without meaning to. But that doesn't matter much for the ones that feel it. Somehow that pain is held and becomes sublime and a source of compassionate understanding - not only for the others whom I've hurt, but also for myself for being a confused, overwhelmed, and scared little kid with a wife and kids, like my own parents.
And the pain travels up my own spine and trickles out the corners of my own eyes. But it is not regret exactly, not feeling sorry for myself, it is the tracks of love never lost.
I'm also aware that the stories told on the other ends of all these actions and transactions would be different than mine, and that's OK.
Thank you so much for sharing a taste of your life, loves and losses with us. (I sometimes wonder if, as per the many-worlds theory of the universe, there is a world out there where humans don't hurt each other so much - or even at all.)
I like the idea that a plane of existence or consciousness may exist where all the hurts, intentional and unintentional, are understood, and the whole picture emerges, and though the pain was and is real, it ceases to be personal, but instead is universal, and also (only) human. That plane comes into the present sometimes, but maybe it's another of the many worlds. :-)
First thank you for sharing. The poem touched my heart and soul and brought a tear to my eye. I remember the choices I have made and the impact they have left on my heart and soul and on others. His music speaks directly to our inner self and dares us to be honest even though it is painful, which is why I believe his music is timeless. We all make difficult choices in our lives, we hurt people we love, we learn, we grow and if we are lucky we get to embrace our messy humanity each and every day.
As for AI, it will have it place in our world and in our future. In my humble opinion it will NEVER replace the human side of our creativity which flows in art, music, poetry and it will NEVER replace that fact that we are flesh and blood and heart and soul and we are living, breathing stardust.
As I am now in my 60s, there are plenty of loves I’ve left behind. Human and otherwise. I love this poem for its honesty and its grief. Since I have the benefit of knowing that the child was not Leonard Cohen’s, and he and Marianne stayed friends forever, wisdom tells me that the lifelong friendship and lived experiences may have overcome whatever romantic love was forsaken.