A silent note is everything
... and one must sing it
A person is a silent note
in the mouth of probability
hungry for song
…
What is it that draws us out of that space of nothingness that wraps us in sleep and pulls us out into “the day” that’s waiting? Beyond the tasks to which we must attend, when we are given a day, another untouched day of possibility, how do we manage, in the great indifference of the universe and, to be honest, to the indifference of most of the people around us, to become ourselves, to knock off the carapace stitched together of a thousand thousand accommodations and compromises, and the empty shells of the so many words we’ve never yet spoken aloud? How, in the midst of our demanding day-to-day do we even dare to dream that we might (one day) say what we really mean, become who we really are, and let people really see us?
We are, each, in Popova’s words “a silent note in the mouth of probability” and we are born “hungry for song”. But our lives become laden with those exact probabilities, those norms and expectations, and we forget we were born to sing.
Still, we do awake each day. And that is not nothing. Indeed, it is everything. Popova moves the words of Audubon’s description of the Frigate Pelican around and whispers the challenge to begin. Just begin to become you, “with a single sound low as thunder.” We can do that. We can weather the repercussions. We can stare down the looks, the “What’s-the-matter-with-you?” interruptions. One wee sound at a time until we begin to hear our own selves, to know ourselves again. (Wait. Did life ever truly allow me to know myself long, long ago?) We - I - have only one life and only one song is mine and mine alone. Have I yet found it? Is there more yet to learn, more to sing? Keep looking. Keep exploring. Keep reflecting. Being… And one day, perhaps, even a “meteor of joy.”
Audubon seems to have mis-identified some birds. And made up names for others. And included the same bird twice with two different names! My secondhand copy of Kenn Kaufman’s The Birds That Audubon Missed arrived yesterday and I’m going to have the lowdown on all of that confusion once I’ve had a chance to read it. In the meantime, the Frigate Bird itself, being, I believe, the bird that Audubon described as the Frigate Pelican or the Man of War Bird, is a noisy one! Enjoy!
This post is an offshoot of my A Whole Lot of Broken Substack, based on the work of Maria Popova. It includes reflections written as a regular morning discipline and based on the artistic visual and poetic work Popova offers in An Almanac of Birds: 100 Divinations for Uncertain Days.1 If you find it interesting, inspiring, or just plain weird, I’d be delighted if you were to share it with others. Thank you!
For me, and I expect for Popova, words like “divination” do not suggest something supernatural; rather, they speak to the extraordinary capacity for poets, artists, and imaginaries to articulate truths we don’t normally run into or calculate in the routines of our day to day. In my opinion, the word “divine” is best understood when spoken as one tosses a hot pink feather boa over one’s shoulder. Read more about Popova’s project on her website, The Marginalian.
This hits hard. The idea of being a "silent note hungry for song" is such a powerfull way to describe how we get buried under expectations. I've been thinking alot about this with my own work lately - how easy it is to just follow the script instead of making real noise. Thanks for the reminder that even one low sound is a start.