Five, five, five. A great number, FIVE. Lots of great things come in 5, a pack of gum, the Jacksons (did), fingers & toes, a bingo card has five rows, a kit kat bar. Oh, you are so going to run out and buy a kit kat bar to check this out aren't you? Actually it only comes in four mouth watering sticks, but at least I got your attention.
What I am getting at is that today is the 5th day of January and I have to say sport fans, I am really digging this year so far all five days of it. I have accomplished everything I have set out to do accomplish, mostly by making my daily list small and manageable. I even remembered to take my reusable bags into the store today. Take that Wal-Mart! I can feel it in my wee bones, 2010 is going to be a great year.
So to that fact, I have been reading a book called The Daily Reader, by Fred White, 366 selection of great prose and poetry to inspire a production and meaningful writing life. I read it each morning after my cup of coffee in a private place (if you get my drift). This morning I read for the first time a portion of "An Essay on Criticism" by Alexander Pope, which completely moved me (pun inteneded). It was written by Pope during the Age of Enlightenment, a time that was attributed to the "rise of modern science, democratic rule and the re-evaluation of the humanity's relationship to nature."
Reading it the first time, I understood took poem as a call against those who critique and judge without cause. And since is one of my "resolutions" for 2010 I found these words to be inspirational and wanted to share with someone. And since my husband thinks I am part wacky- part delusional, I thought I would post it here instead of reading it to him and share it with people who would appreciate it. Enjoy.
Of all the causes which conspire to blind
Man's erring, judgement and misguide the mind,
What the weak head with strongest bias rules
Is pride, the never-falling vice of fools,
Whatever Nature has in worth deny'd,
She gives in large recruits of needful pride;
For as in bodies, thus in souls, we find
What wants in blood in spirits, swell'd with wind:
Pride, where wit fails, steps in to our defence,
And fills up all the mighty voice of sense.
If one right reason drives that cloud away.
Truth breaks upon us a resistless day.
Trust not yourself; but your defects to know,
Make use of ev'ry friend- and ev'ry foe.
A little learning is a dang'rous thing:
Drink deep, or taste not the Pierian spring:
There shallow draughts intoxicate the brain,
And drinking largely sobers us again.
...
A perfect judge will read each work of wit
With the same spirit that its author writ:
Survey the whole, nor seek slight faults to find
Where nature moves, and rapture warms the mind.
