Things to Think
Robert Bly
Think in ways you’ve never thought before
If the phone rings, think of it as carrying a message
Larger than anything you’ve ever heard,
Vaster than a hundred lines of Yeats.
Think that someone may bring a bear to your door,
Maybe wounded and deranged: or think that a moose
Has risen out of the lake, and he’s carrying on his antlers
A child of your own whom you’ve never seen.
When someone knocks on the door, think that he’s about
To give you something large: tell you you’re forgiven,
Or that it’s not necessary to work all the time, or that it’s
Been decided that if you lie down no one will die.
I first saw this poem in an issue of Oprah magazine years ago. At the time, we were preparing to adopt our first child. I think you can see the correlation between the poem and what was happening in my life. I ripped the page out of the magazine and put it someplace so I wouldn’t lose it. Unfortunately, I couldn’t remember where exactly that place was, or the exact words, or the author. I did try to find it by writing to Oprah magazine, but never received a reply. My vague description probably wasn’t enough for them either.
But the idea of the poem kept coming back to me.
One day, maybe 10 years later, I found it. I had folded the page and put it inside a journal from our trips to Guatemala (Edi’s homeland) and at some point, it was put in a box in the attic. I was ecstatic to find it and discovered that it held even more meaning for me upon second meeting.
Part of the reason I couldn’t remember the author is because it’s surprising to me that Robert Bly wrote this poem. He was an accomplished yet controversial poet, known for his objections to the Vietnam war, and later for the mythopoetic men’s movement. Things to Think doesn’t seem to relate to either of those content areas.
I don’t claim to interpret it the same way anyone else does. But to me, it says to expect the unexpected and even the magical, in life. Our son, adopted in Guatemala, was not delivered on moose antlers, yet the experience and the process of becoming a family was magical, nonetheless. There is a lot of magic to be found, all around us, if we look.
I also love the end, where someone comes knocking at my door, to tell me if I lie down no one will die. It sounds kind of funny, like who would even think that? But when I am tired from the burdens of my full life, this resonates with recognition. Depending on the moment, it makes me want to laugh or cry. But at any rate, I needn’t take myself so seriously.
What I need to do is look for magic. Not witch’s magic, but rather the magic of shared moments, of natural beauty, of surprising happenings. I’m always watching for them. There are a lot if you pay attention.
I paint some of those moments too. Now when you look at my art, you can understand a little bit more about where I’m coming from and what I put into it.