what's good : relaxation
Especially for those of you in the US on Tax Day
In poetry: Christina Rossetti came from a close family of intelligent, creative, thoughtful, and well-connected folk; much of her work reflected Nature alongside themes about Victorian society, religious faith, womanhood, and love. Her most famous poem, Goblin Market, offers a lush, relentless description of foods - their bewitching sights & scents & tastes - while exploring temptation, desire, sisterhood, and redemption. In contrast, this poem essentially offers a parade of animals & insects preparing for end of day amidst their changing surroundings but sneaks in some thoughts on mortality and motivation. I’m drawn to this piece as I am to much of Mary Oliver’s work - peace permeates, blanketing us in warmth, with hints here and there of less peaceful moments, the conflicts inherent in life: the dormouse listens, gnats whirl, the hare sleeps warily and the chickens quiet, all of them knowing the owl & bat & fox are just waking; the nightingale starts singing for presumed love and pain/The passion of her strain, though it could also be solely for her own joy. In the end, I appreciate their gentle juxapositioning.
Twilight Calm by Christina Rossetti
Oh, pleasant eventide!
Clouds on the western side
Grow grey and greyer hiding the warm sun:
The bees and birds, their happy labours done,
Seek their close nests and bide.
Screened in the leafy wood
The stock-doves sit and brood:
The very squirrel leaps from bough to bough
But lazily; pauses; and settles now
Where once he stored his food.
One by one the flowers close,
Lily and dewy rose
Shutting their tender petals from the moon:
The grasshoppers are still; but not so soon
Are still the noisy crows.
The dormouse squats and eats
Choice little dainty bits
Beneath the spreading roots of a broad lime;
Nibbling his fill he stops from time to time
And listens where he sits.
From far the lowings come
Of cattle driven home:
From farther still the wind brings fitfully
The vast continual murmur of the sea,
Now loud, now almost dumb.
The gnats whirl in the air,
The evening gnats; and there
The owl opes broad his eyes and wings to sail
For prey; the bat wakes; and the shell-less snail
Comes forth, clammy and bare.
Hark! that's the nightingale,
Telling the selfsame tale
Her song told when this ancient earth was young:
So echoes answered when her song was sung
In the first wooded vale.
We call it love and pain
The passion of her strain;
And yet we little understand or know:
Why should it not be rather joy that so
Throbs in each throbbing vein?
In separate herds the deer
Lie; here the bucks, and here
The does, and by its mother sleeps the fawn:
Through all the hours of night until the dawn
They sleep, forgetting fear.
The hare sleeps where it lies,
With wary half-closed eyes;
The cock has ceased to crow, the hen to cluck:
Only the fox is out, some heedless duck
Or chicken to surprise.
Remote, each single star
Comes out, till there they are
All shining brightly: how the dews fall damp!
While close at hand the glow-worm lights her lamp
Or twinkles from afar.
But evening now is done
As much as if the sun
Day-giving had arisen in the East:
For night has come; and the great calm has ceased,
The quiet sands have run.In music + bonus TV: Many of us were introduced to Noah Reid in the unfathomably marvelous Schitt’s Creek when he played an office worker and David’s eventual business partner/boyfriend/SPOILER1. But he is also a professional musician and his singing is, well, simply the best for a cozy, quiet afternoon.
I have so far had the disheartening misfortune of being out of town the two times his tour came through Portland; if I didn’t believe he was genuinely Canadian Nice, I’d be taking it personally. Find him here for an utterly relaxing treat.
*If you haven’t yet watched Schitt’s Creek, I highly recommend but it doesn’t exactly fit the relaxation theme until after you’ve seen a few episodes and the characters start endearing themselves. And even then, every episode will bring at least one twinge of secondhand embarrassment. You will miss them all desperately once it’s over though.
In self care: I am a believer in the magical quality of taking a bath when things feel overwhelming. Unless you are a stubborn multitasker2, you can do very little but relax when soaking in a tub full of hot water. And, a flat resealable pouch of something bubbly + fragrant is a grand treat for yourself when traveling. The last time I was flying out of PDX, I stopped by Tender Loving Empire, my favorite local store full of mostly-locally sourced goodies and grabbed a pouch of Rose Tea Mylk Bath in case I was lucky enough to get a hotel room3 with a tub. This past weekend I struck getaway gold and as soon as we returned from our after-dinner walk, I started running the water & cued up a proper playlist.
About 40 minutes later (I got the water a bit too hot and spent five minutes strengthening my core by gradually lowering my body into the milky rose tea lava), every muscle langorously thanked me for my service; my skin was warm grateful velvet. The only downside was the 700 tiny soggy petals & tea twig remnants sticking around the tub, but they were easily washed down with the next morning’s shower. And there was no slick murderous residue remaining as sometimes happens when I use bubbles or bath oil. I’ll definitely be picking up other scents the next time I’m flying out of a D gate, and keep hoping for hotel bath tubs.
Husband. Watch here if you need a deep sob along with a few laughs.
This is where my self-indulgent Leo cusp comes in handy, overriding my overthinking Virgo side.
I have a variety of more pedestrian goods at home that I also enjoy and recommend like Dr. Teal’s lavender epsom salt, jars of Bath & Body Works bubbles, and some homemade bath bombs but they are too bulky to pack for trips.
That is a LUSH poem. I forgot how much I enjoy Christina Rossetti.
Agreed on the sweetness and awkward awesomeness of Schitt's Creek.