Sometimes, poetry is the best therapy I can find

Sometimes, poetry(ˈpōitrē,ˈpōətrē) is the best therapy(ˈTHerəpē) I can find

By Frank Buchar

Instead of opioids(ˈōpēˌoid), cannabis(ˈkanəbəs) or any other mind-altering(ˈôltər) substance(ˈsəbstəns), a personally(ˈpərsənəlē) chosen(ˈCHōzən) selection of poetry or poetic(pōˈetik) prose(prōz), committed(kəˈmitid) to memory, can have great therapeutic(ˌTHerəˈpyo͞otik) value. It’s not a quick fix. It’s much better than that. It has staying power. The great poets(ˈpōit,ˈpōət) and philosophers(fəˈläsəfər) are among the best company I can imagine, offering solace(ˈsäləs) and comfort that can at times be greater even than the words of your best friend.

I’ve always thought that in memorizing(ˈmeməˌrīz) a poem(pōm,ˈpōim,ˈpōəm) and reciting(rəˈsīt) it aloud, you are tracing(ˈtrāsiNG), in your own brain(brān), the same neural(ˈn(y)o͝orəl) pathways(ˈpaTHˌwā) that the writer(ˈrīdər) experienced(ikˈspi(ə)rēənst) in the finished creation. While there’s not enough space here to share entire masterpieces of surprise(sə(r)ˈprīz) and delight(dəˈlīt), I can offer snippets(ˈsnipit) from them, and I think you’ll get my point.

The poetic prose(prōz) of ancient(ˈānCHənt) Chinese philosopher(fəˈläsəfər) Zhuangzi, for example, is a stunning(ˈstəniNG) piece of compressed(kəmˈpres) thought and meaning with a deft(deft) touch of humour(ˈ(h)yo͞omər): ”The fish trap(trap) exists because of the fish; once you’ve gotten the fish, you can forget the trap. The rabbit(ˈrabət) snare(sne(ə)r) exists because of the rabbit; once you’ve gotten the rabbit, you can forget the snare. Words exist because of meaning; once you’ve gotten the meaning, you can forget the words. Where can I find a man who has forgotten words, so I can have a word with him?”

Whatever assails(əˈsāl) or assaults(əˈsôlt) you, counter it with a drugless sally(ˈsalē). Cannabis can’t compete(kəmˈpēt) with the contained(kənˈtān) emotions(iˈmōSHən) of a great poet. Once you’ve decided(dəˈsīdəd) what the poem says to you, commit it to memory and say it aloud. That’s the best way to make it yours. The important thing is to select the poems(pōm,ˈpōim,ˈpōəm) that speak to your heart, that strike(strīk) a chord(kôrd).

Take this epitaph(ˈepəˌtaf) found in Boothill Cemetery(ˈseməˌterē) in Tombstone(ˈto͞omˌstōn), Ariz.(ˌarəˈzōnə) Cowboy(ˈkouˌboi) country. It speaks to living an authentic(ôˈTHentik) life: “Be what you is, cuz(kəz) if you be what you ain’t(ānt), then you ain’t what you is.”

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