Loafer's Glory

Loafer's Glory

I loafe and invite my Soul; I lean and loafe at my ease, observing a spear of summer grass. ~Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass I want to go back to Loafer’s Glory and have another cup of coffee in the small diner there, look out the windows at the wooded hills, maybe while away some time “just sittin,” as the mountain folk say. Watch the play of light and shadow on the mountains and perhaps discreetly observe the people as they come and go. Loafer’s Glory is a wide place in the road in the mountains of western North Carolina. At last count less than a hundred souls live in the community, but at least there is a caution light marking the spot on NC Highway 226 where it it intersects NC 80 of this "gloriously" named town near the Tennessee border perhaps 50 or 60 miles west of Asheville. As the young editor of a weekly newspaper in Mitchell County, I quite often passed through Loafer’s Glory on a country road that wound through the valley of the Estatoe River, and even in those tender years just after finishing college, I marveled at the name and stopped and had coffee at the diner several times. The diner along with a general store comprised the downtown of the village. At that time I certainly did not realize that the place name actually obliquely referred to one of the keys to the kingdom, to one of the key elements in caring for the soul. As I have aged, married, divorced, remarried, careered, studied, re-careered, contemplated and meditated, I have come to a greater understanding of the idea of Whitman’s invitation to the soul set forth in the epigram and emphasized in my consciousness by the metaphor of Loafer’s Glory. A more familiar variation of Whitman’s line is found in the King James Version of the Christian Bible where the Psalmist says in Chapter 46, Verse 10, “Be still and know that I am god.” I do not know about you, but sometimes I feel as if I am still really a teenager at heart; emotionally, I mean. Any day now I may turn seventeen. Like a teenager coming of age, I find that I still want to pour experiences into my soul. Too often I find my consciousness is turned outward. I am busy thinking about my job, my mate, our income, what’s on at the movies, the latest electronic toy, the news or indulging that great pastime that I am sure that I share with you, since it is the penultimate pastime of the human race; meaning worry, of course. Sadly, as with so many humans, I only began to seek the inner experience as I faced crises in my life and with nowhere else to turn, finally turned inside. The aging process itself often brings a cynicism toward fulfilling oneself with empty material possessions and hollow mental chattel and for many impels a turn inward. As Blaise Pascal, the French mystic writes in Pensees: . . .I have discovered that all the unhappiness of men arises from one single fact, that they cannot stay quietly in their own chamber. I have come to believe that one of the critical ingredients in living a beautiful life--in caring for the soul if you will--is to cultivate that stillness inside or as Whitman puts it so succinctly to “loaf and invite [the] soul.” Lao Tze, reputed author of the Tao Te Ching, the “bible” of Taoism wrote so eloquently about stillness: The seed of mystery lies in muddy water. How can I perceive this mystery? Water becomes clear through stillness. How can I become still? By flowing with the stream. In my own experience meditation has been the key to stilling my mind so that I can experience a greater awareness of the universe and myself. There are as many meditations as there are people I think sometimes. Far be it from me to say which one is right for you or if you need a teacher or if you even need to meditate. Experiences in my own life and with friends imply that some sort of quieting of the mind is necessary for everyone if knowledge of the true self is sought. Here are some links to help you in your investigation of meditation. There are also many great articles on meditation here at Suite101. Just do a search in the directory for "meditation." I suppose a note is in order about the concept of “stilling the mind.” There is a saying in India and perhaps in other Asian countries as well that “the mind is a great servant but a poor master.” In this view the mind is considered quite accomplished at abstraction (that is with mathematics and language). Thus, it calculates and theorizes and figures things out so well, that we mistake it for the "master" when it is in reality the "servant." Yet, what is behind the mind, what inspires us to delve deeper into the nature of reality with our mathematics and art and physics? To meditate is to quiet this chattering, conjecturing mind and experience the "master," the “mind behind the mind,” God, Allah, Krishna, the Great Spirit, Truth, "Sam" or whatever you want to call the creative force of the universe. After I had meditated for a few years, I began noticing that at times I could just sit or lie and not need to do anything, including meditation. It just felt so good to be quiet and experience my breathing and myself; to be alive and truly aware of it. This is very hard to explain, perhaps impossible to understand if you have not experienced the quality of this encounter with the self. In my view, the truth goes on and on seemingly infinite in nature as our true selves seem boundless, creating a myriad of worlds and creatures, yet ultimately simple in experience. A lighted candle held out to the wind is easily blown out; still the winds of the mind and experience the spirit burning bright. Meanwhile, in Loafer’s Glory as elsewhere: Sitting quietly, doing nothing, Spring comes, and the grass grows by itself. If as most mystics (and some physicists) believe, we are actually living timeless in the eternal present, I propose that aged Walt paid a visit to that simple diner in a remote but paradisal part of the world; ordered his coffee and apple pie and, brushing crumbs from his white beard and finally taking off that wide-brimmed hat, sat quietly for hours silently acknowledging the mountain folk so far away from "Mannahatta's" shores, and looked through the windows until purple shadows fell on the mountains and as he glimpsed some flash of truth, added that wonderful line to Leaves of Grass: I loaf and invite my soul. Editor's Note: I am not sure that any poet of any land has held so great a vision of a people and a country as does 19th century American poet, Walt Whitman. Most of his poetry is collected in his opus, Leaves of Grass. In many ways he is the soul of American democracy, extrolling the working people and the simple virtues of family and community but also with ample time for song and celebration. . .and of course loafing and spirit. I have used the Native American name for Manhattan, Mannahatta, in which Whitman delighted, which he used throughout his work and it is the title of one of his most famous poems. The full text of Mannahatta and links to other poems from Leaves of Grass are available fromBartleby. Copyright 2005-2016, Thomas James Martin, all rights reserved.