William Butler Yates describes in prose how for twenty
minutes he felt overwhelming happiness. He felt it in his body while on the
street he gazed;
My body of a sudden
blazed;
And twenty minutes
more or less
It seemed so great my
happiness.
The poet waits 50 plus years to feel such happiness and
apparently it came out of almost nowhere. It was while sitting alone in a
crowded shop with an empty cup and open book and looking down the street.
“My fiftieth year had come and gone
I sat a solitary man,
In a crowded London shop,
An open book and empty
cup
On the marble table
top.”
The happiness was of such a great intensity that his
“body blazed” and gave him the awareness that he could now bless others. There
was something different about this happiness experienced. It was more than
merely, “having fun” or merely “being happy” or being grateful or even being
joyful. He felt blessed to the point that he then wanted to bless others.
Perhaps it is most interesting that he describes this
blaze of awareness taking place for only “Twenty minutes”. I immediately want to ask, “Huh. That’s
it? For twenty minutes”? You waited 50
years for twenty minutes of happiness?
“Why only twenty minutes”?
And to complicate matters even more, I don’t think the poet
means twenty minutes a day or a week or a month or even a year. I think in
regard to a blaze of happiness that can then be a true blessing to others
he means twenty minutes for his life time.
So, now as a reader you may want to ask, “Are
you saying that we are only granted twenty minutes of happiness in our life time”?
To which I would have to answer, “Perhaps; Or, at least perhaps for this type of happiness.”
When I honestly examine my own life of 50 plus years (as my
fiftieth year has also come and gone), I would have to agree with the poet. It
has been about twenty minutes of feeling that blaze.
There have been those moments of blaze, sometimes when I have taught a young person to catch a trout for the first time and it was a blessing for both of us. Twenty minutes.
Ah to have even 20 minute of "blaze".
ReplyDeleteFar better than 15 minutes of fame I should think.
It's surprising how one can count the minutes of true ecstasy or joy - they are as rare and precious as jewels.
Yes, I think the poet speaks of something that is quite unsayable when he uses the word blaze. Yes, this is more than fame For me, I know of "blaze" when I get a sense, even just a glimpse, that my own life is mysteriously part of a bigger story and how then at times, parts of that bigger story might find expression in my own little life story. And then, at times, rarer still, there is some "overlap" with others where we all share in parts of the common story. There are some common themes and points of contact. And perhaps even more rare, (maybe this is the 20 minutes??) sometimes when one is past 50 years of age we might get the feeling that the story comes full circle, or somewhat closer, in that I might now be able to bless a young person with what I may have gathered along the way. One finally knows that one has been blessed and can bless others and things come full circle.
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