Transcript
Almond Joy (0:00)
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Major Jackson (0:31)
Hey, it's Major. Over the past few years, I've had the great privilege of sharing poetry with you and offering a daily moment to pause and slow down. Today we're revisiting one of my favorite episodes from my time on the show. I hope you enjoy this selection. I'm Major Jackson and this is the Slowdown I woke up recently with the Rams. That's what we called it in my youth when someone was angry for no reason and seemed to want to butt heads with everyone. On this particular morning, I was salty. We ran out of coffee, which meant I had to make a quick run to the grocery store, which meant I had to spend 30 minutes or more in traffic, which meant my day would start later than desired. I had essays to grade and meetings with colleagues and with Micah, my lovely producer, but none of that happens without caffeine. I grabbed my keys and slammed the door. For some reason, every time I start my car, it plays A Foggy Day in London Town sung by Leslie Hutchison, a 1920s singer. I discover it by going down a rabbit hole. Every trip feels like Groundhog Day, the movie, which on this day really annoyed me. I change from Bluetooth to the radio. The morning commute DJs with their high octane laughter annoyed me. The grocery store ran out of my favorite brand. That annoyed me. The store clerk peered on the shelf, reached his arm in the deep back, and pulled out a bag. He cheerily handed it to me. His joy was annoying, slightly toxic. At home, Dede noticed and said, woke up on the wrong side of the bed and I said, I hate that phrase. Then I apologized. This isn't me, I said. She said, go ahead, live in your feelings. If you know me, I keep a container on any emotions close to rage. I am allergic to bad temperaments in others, so control it in myself. But recently I've measured how the state of the world and its conflicts were affecting me. One of the great paradoxes in life is the presence of human suffering on the planet amidst prosperity. No religion can explain this other than point to some large cosmic plan Sometimes it's tough bearing witness and walking in the world when one feels debilitated and silence around other people's suffering feels like gaslighting. Today's poem invites us to rise to a place of gentleness, where memories of sublime encounters can help us reclaim an inner peace. Try to praise the Mutilated World By Adam Zagayevsky Translated by Claire Kavanagh Try to praise the mutilated world. Remember June's long days and wild strawberries, drops of wine, the nettles that methodically overgrow the abandoned homesteads of exiles. You must praise the mutilated world. You watched the stylish yachts and ships. One of them had a long trip ahead of it while salty oblivion awaited others. You've seen the refugees going nowhere. You've heard the executioners sing joyfully. You should praise the mutilated world. Remember the moments when we were together in a white room and the curtain fluttered. Return in thought to the concert where music flared. You gathered acorns in the park in autumn and leaves eddied over the earth's scars. Praise the mutilated world and the gray feather, a thrush lost and the gentle light that strays and vanishes and returns. The Slowdown is a production of American Public Media in partnership with the Poetry Foundation. This project is also supported in part by the National Endowment for the Arts. On the web@arts.gov to get a poem delivered to you daily, go to slowdownshow.org and sign up for our newsletter and find us on Instagram at Slowdown. Show.
![[encore] 1201: Try to Praise the Mutilated World by Adam Zagajewski, translated by Clare Cavanagh - The Slowdown: Poetry & Reflection Daily cover](/_next/image?url=https%3A%2F%2Fimg.apmcdn.org%2F81355c1055d442766d54134d0da68cddce4df039%2Fsquare%2F387175-20250525-20250527-slowdown-tile-2000.jpg&w=1920&q=75)