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Summary

The poem "The Practice" by RBGraham reflects on the experience of sitting with grief, accompanied by the comforting presence of animals, as a form of emotional and spiritual practice.

Abstract

"The Practice" is a poignant poem that delves into the depths of sorrow and the act of sitting with one's emotions. The author describes the physical manifestations of grief, such as swollen eyes and uncontrollable weeping, which evolve into a profound wailing that disturbs even the animals nearby. Despite the disruption, these animals, likened to loving companions, offer silent support and attentiveness. In a moment of connection, one of the animals places a paw on the author's hand, an act interpreted as a comforting gesture, akin to holding hands. The poet attempts to reassure both themselves and the concerned animals with words of reassurance, acknowledging the struggle to believe them. The poem concludes by reiterating the title, suggesting that this entire process of sitting with grief, surrounded by the silent solidarity of animals, is itself a practice—presumably of healing, acceptance, or meditation.

Opinions

  • The author conveys grief as a tangible, physical presence that can be as disruptive as it is unavoidable.
  • The poem suggests that the act of sitting with one's emotions, particularly grief, is a form of practice or discipline that can lead to personal growth or healing.
  • The comfort provided by the animals is seen as a form of unspoken empathy and companionship, highlighting the emotional support that pets or animals can offer during times of distress.
  • The author implies a sense of transformation or journey through the stages of grief, from weeping to wailing, and finally to a tentative reassurance.
  • The poem reflects on the human-animal bond as a source of solace and strength during emotional upheaval.
  • The repeated phrase "And isn’t this also the practice?" bookends the poem, emphasizing the poet's belief in the therapeutic nature of this emotional work.

The Practice

A Poem

Photo by RBGraham

And isn’t this also the practice?

Sitting

again and

again

with the weight of this grief

just behind my swollen lids

so the water pours

from my closed eyes

and the very breath

I come to

stillness

is now interrupted by

a weeping

that transforms into

a wailing

that startles these animals of mine

who encircled me

when I came to sit

the lovers I bring to my chest

who remain attentive and silent

who are restless now with

my crying

so that the larger one

places her heavy paw

directly onto my open palm

so that she holds my hand —

or so I imagine, in her own beautiful way

nudging my fingers with her cold nose

she is persistent

until I meet her gaze

‘I am okay,’ I say

and try to mean it

And isn’t this also the practice?

The Practice by RBGraham

Grief
Poetry
Poem
Meditation
Lifeline
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