On that singular second on the finish of life when all artistic vitality is concentrated and consecrated.
By Maria Popova
“It’s the most supremely attention-grabbing second in life, the one one in actual fact when residing appears life,” wrote Alice James — William and Henry James’s equally good sister — as she faced the end of life with uncommon grace and vitality.
A century-some after her, Leonard Cohen (September 21, 1934–November 7, 2016) echoed these sentiments and added to them his personal depth as he reckoned with nearing the tip, discovering his artistic vitality clarified, concentrated, consecrated by the proximity of loss of life.
Hearken to the hummingbird
whose wings you can not see,
take heed to the hummingbird —
don’t take heed to me.Hearken to the thoughts of God,
which doesn’t should be,
take heed to the thoughts of God —
don’t take heed to me.
Complement with Emily Levine on how to live fully while dying and her studying of a shocking poem about how to live and how to die, then revisit Leonard Cohen on language and the poetry of presence, democracy’s breakages and redemptions, and when (not) to quit a creative project.
