Literary Impulse and Paper Poetry “Eudaemonia” Prompt Submission

Eudaemonia

The space beyond words

Eudaemonia, you can look it up.

Socrates used the word. Pyrrho did too.

But, in my mind, this is what I know to be true.

It’s a lot like describing samādhi, the space beyond words, or even thoughts.

Pure joy. I’ve felt it. The bliss of being alive in the instant the sun flared her crimson robes across the dripping, soft globe of the peachy sky arching over the breathless waters of Lanai, and I stood, knee-high, in the lapping waves, holding my lover’s hand, our feet tethered in the shifting sands, while mourning the loss of a dearly loved friend.

I’ve also seen it, breathed it, in a flickering moment of passage, a yawning tug into bliss and sadness intertwined, a rapture without words, while I’ve listened to the sigh of the wind, high up atop a mountain, amidst a stand of ancient, one-eyed aspen, while waiting for the sky to shed her tears of life and licks of fire across the bristled tips of the alpine forest. A hint of terror. A vacuum of air. Hairs rising on my forearms with the crack of thunder. And then, that wondrous moment when my eyelashes and lips tasted the first dusting of rain. Eudaemonia, that’s what I’d call it.

And it’s in my kitten’s, Emerson’s, eyes each morning while I hold him, like a baby, cradled in my arms, his soft wet nose nuzzling into my hair, his tiny body throbbing with a nameless ecstasy that overflows his veins and floods my very being.

Maybe you’ve also felt it in that moment when you’ve been suspended between heaven and earth. You know what I mean. That instant when you’ve forgotten to breathe and you find yourself dissolving into the infinity of all that is and all that will ever be.

Eudaemonia. I think that maybe it’s a poet’s job to go beyond what words can say, to let the muse play with the rawness of our essence, and then to distill it again into something we can read or maybe feel or breathe. It’s a lot like samādhi. Indescribable.

The word defies the boundaries of language.

And yet, it is the totality of being, the essence of everything that really matters.

Erika Burkhalter is a yogi, neurophilosopher, cat-mom, photographer, and lover of travel and nature, spreading her love and amazement for Mother Earth’s glories, one photo, poem or story at a time. (MS Neuropsychology, MA Yoga Studies). Erika is also an editor for Mindfully Speaking.

“FOR DETAILS CHECK [What does Eudaimonia mean to you?]”

I’ve really enjoyed reading some of the other submissions for this prompt. I invite you to check out the following pieces by some authors who also offered their voices:

Suntonu Bhadra, Chris Mooney-Singh, Paroma Sen, Carolyn Hastings, Kevin E. Pittack Jr.

Poem and photo ©Erika Burkhalter. All rights reserved.