Early this semester, I introduced my eighth graders to some of my favorite Shakespearean sonnets. One, in particular, as lingered with me and, with a few key modifications, has become sort of a prayer as I till the soil throughout Lent in preparation of the Sower,
Since I left you, mine eye is in my mind; (Sonnet 113)
Since I left you, mine eye is in my mind;
And that which governs me to go about
Doth part his function and is partly blind,
Seems seeing, but effectually is out;
For it no form delivers to the heart
Of bird, of flower, or shape, which it doth latch:
Of his quick objects hath the mind no part,
Nor his own vision holds what it doth catch;
For if it see the rudest or gentlest sight,
The most sweet favour or deformed’st creature,
The mountain or the sea, the day or night,
The crow or dove, it shapes them to your feature:
Incapable of more, replete with you,
My most true mind thus makes mine eye untrue.
The sonnet is for ‘the lover,’ of course, and wonderfully describes the effect which unrequited love can have upon a person. The sonnet, for me, however, has lingered as a brief Christological affirmation, like the exchanges in the Songs of Solomon. For all the poet’s efforts, all they can manage to see in everything, hideous or beautiful, is a vision of the lover. A lenten ode not for the actual absence of Christ, but for the fact that the distance created by our shortcomings can enlighten us to the what is ‘untrue’ for the poet but is actually the realest possibility of our vision, to see that all things are incapable of more, replete with Him.
I find myself a tad bit embarrassed for these repetitive apologies regarding the writing schedule. Needless to say, I’ve paused all subscription payments since January and they will remain paused for the time being. I will not accept paid subscriptions again till I find that I have a steady enough schedule to write (and finish writing) consistently. I have a few things that need finishing touches, so expect to see essays in your inbox soon enough.
This summer, I’ll be in Boston for the Abigail Adams Institute seminar, “The Machine Has No Tradition.” I’m looking forward to the opportunity to work my intellectual chops, so to speak, and travel to Virginia soon after with a dear friend to visit with my spiritual father. If you happen to be in any of those areas, it would be lovely to meet you over a drink.
Finally, while I continue to write, I will no longer be teaching. I have preemptively, maybe somewhat foolishly, told my school I will not be back this Fall though I have yet to line up another position. There are many reasons, maybe I will feel ponderous about them soon enough and you’ll hear about it here. If you are so inclined to help a poor, career transitioning teacher, please reach out to me via DM or email.
Blessed Lent, CW.
I saw that Abigail Adams Institute seminar was sold our a while back, but it looks to be a great time.