Kent Nerburn

Good morning, everyone. It’s somewhere south of thirty below zero, not to get above -25 today. A hard time, quite beyond quaint and romantic.

I woke up on this cold morning to the following message:

Good morning Kent Nerburn,

Grace

My day has suddenly gotten a lot warmer.

I just received this in an email. I pass it along because one does not often hear messages of such pure heart. It was written by someone who has the wisdom of 83 years on this earth. We would all do well to listen.

Enjoy.
>
> Dear Bertha,
>
> I’m reading more and dusting less. I’m sitting in the yard and admiring
> the view without fussing about the weeds in the garden. I’m spending more
> time with my family and friends and less time working. Whenever possible,
> life should be a pattern of experiences to savor, not to endure. I’m
> trying to recognize these moments now and cherish them.
>
> I’m not “saving” anything; we use our good china and crystal for every
> special event such as losing a pound, getting the sink unstopped, or the
> first Amaryllis blossom.
>
> I wear my good blazer to the market. My theory is if I look prosperous, I
> can shell out $28.49 for one small bag of groceries..
>
> I’m not saving my good perfume for special parties, but wearing it for
> clerks in the hardware store and tellers at the bank.
>
> “Someday” and “one of these days” are losing their grip on my vocabulary;
> if it’s worth seeing or hearing or doing, I want to see and hear and do it
> now.
>
> I’m not sure what others would’ve done had they known they wouldn’t be
> here for the tomorrow that we all take for granted.
>
> I think they would have called family members and a few close friends.
> They might have called a few former friends to apologize and mend fences
> for past squabbles.
>
> I like to think they would have gone out for a Chinese dinner or for
> whatever their favorite food was.
>
> I’m guessing; I’ll never know.
>
> It’s those little things left undone that would make me angry if I knew my
> hours were limited. Angry because I hadn’t written certain letters that I
> intended to write one of these days. Angry and sorry that I didn’t tell my
> husband and parents often enough how much I truly love them. I’m trying
> very hard not to put off, hold back, or save anything that would add
> laughter and luster to our lives.
>
> And every morning when I open my eyes, I tell myself that it is special.
> Every day, every minute, every breath truly is a gift from God.
>
> If you received this, it is because someone cares for you.
>
> If you’re too busy to take the few minutes that it takes right now to
> forward this, would it be the first time you didn’t do the little thing
> that would make a difference in your relationships? I can tell you it
> certainly won’t be the last.
>
> Take a few minutes to send this to a few people you care about, just to
> let them know that you’re thinking of them.
>
> “People say true friends must always hold hands, but true friends don’t
> need to hold hands because they know the other hand will always be there.”
>
> I don’t believe in miracles. I rely on them.
>
> Life may not be the party we hoped for, but while we are here we might as
> well dance.

I just want to assure everyone that I haven’t disappeared . . .Well, in a way I have. We’ve been going through what I call the “January dagger” here in northern Minnesota. The temperature has been consistently below zero, hitting in the 20 to 30 below range on most nights, and creeping up toward single digits below on most days. Such temperatures do something slightly strange to one’s priorities and mental balance. It’s not that they are unbearable, so much as that they make most activities subject to question. And that includes everything from going to town or walking to the mailbox. It’s simply easier to stay inside. In my case, this means staying in to write.

My wife, Louise, was gone to Washington D.C. for several weeks. My son, Nik (his new spelling), has been off to New York on a school trip. I’ve been left alone with Sadie, our ravenous though loveable yellow lab, Sid and Sallie, our two rather odd cats, and my own slightly askew brain that has been getting no stimulation from the outside world. This has had the predictable benefit of increasing my imaginative power, which has resulted in a subsequent increase in writing productivity. I more readily “become” the writing project, much as one “becomes” a novel he or she is reading. It’s a great feeling, though it has an effect on my psychic equilibrium. I sometimes find that the Judith Gap in Montana (through which the Nez Perce are currently traveling in my narrative) and the travails they are experiencing are more real to me than my own daily affairs. When a phone call or a meeting or even a casual encounter with someone occurs, I bring the same intensity of imaginative focus to that moment as I bringing to bear on the inner world I am inhabiting all the rest of the time. As a result, my responses are out of proportion and my social behavior is somewhat suspect. My friends put up with it — though, they, too, are experiencing the January dagger, and it is making them strange in their own particular ways.

Anyway, I’ve received a number of interesting emails that ask some interesting questions. I’ll be responding to several of them here in this forum as soon as I feel like moving my imaginative focus away from the Nez Perce. Right now, I’m enjoying this not-too-common experience of having my imaginative life be stronger than my external life, and that imaginative life has me living in 1877. It’s a long way back to this seat here in 2004 cryogenized northern Minnesota. I’ll make a visit soon, and you’ll be the first to know.

This morning a reader sent me word that she had come across my writings through a columnist in the Madison Magazine in Madison, Wisconsin. I’m always curious about such things, so I dug the article out through a web search. It’s titled Unanswered prayers. The section quoted is taken from either Letters To My Son or Simple Truths.

These are the kinds of surprises that keep a person writing. To the outside world the writing life looks glamorous. But on the inside it is often a very lonely place. You wonder if you are involved in something that is self-absorbed and self-referential, and if you could better pay your rent for your time on the planet by doing something more immediately relational.

Then moments like this occur.

I’d like to thank all of you who write me, quote me, or use my works in your personal or professional lives. Life really is all about service. Whenever I can feel I’ve been of service, I get a breath of wind in my sails and push forward with a little more courage and conviction.

I hope January is treating you all well. Keep in touch.

As the new year comes around and we are all awash in resolutions of self betterment, I’d like to propose two simple resolutions that we all can take to heart. They come from the Old Testament book of Micah and from the philosopher, Confucius.

Micah asked, “And what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God?”

Confucius counseled his followers to “bring peace to the old, have trust in your friends, and cherish the young.”

These have been my guiding principles in life for many years now. And though I do not always live up to their lofty possibilities, I can easily embrace their simple, practical challenges in my ordinary, everyday life.

Too often we try to embark upon tasks of self-transcendence and self-perfection. These are surely noble in intention, and no great work is done without the positive intention. But sometimes we must be satisfied to embrace the simple opportunities that are placed before us. These words of Confucius and Micah shine a light on these opportunities.

So I offer them to you as quiet reminders of the possible, and hope that you, too, will take them to heart. We can try to be great, but, often, it is enough to be good. Making these our resolutions will move us closer to the good.

Do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with your God. Bring peace to the old, have trust in your friends, and cherish the young.

These should be resolutions enough for any of us in this new year.

May 2004 go well for all of you.