Simple Things/ Lang Kenneth Haynes
Albatross necklace
Albatross necklace
The mention of an albatross brings to mind pictures of burdens, heavy things draped around our necks, memories of painful
experiences that slow us down, or dead things that we lug around that make our journeys through life more difficult. You’d have to ask a
merchant marine or some other person who spends a lot of time at sea, but word has it that albatrosses follow ships and are thought to be
signs of good luck. Samuel Coleridge’s 1798 poem, “Rime(1) of the Ancient Mariner,” is the story of a sailor who kills an albatross and the
fate of the ship and sailors take a turn for the worse following the murder of the bird. As a form of penance, the person who killed the bird
was forced, by his companions, to wear the dead bird around his neck as a constant reminder of his terrible deed.
A necklace, on the other hand, is a piece of jewelry that is worn around the neck. A frill. A bauble. An unnecessary thing designed to
enhance the appearance or ego of the person who wears it. You don’t need it. Your head will not fall off without it. It is not likely to be put
around your neck as a painful reminder of some awful thing you have done. And it’s kind of magical when a stone, bead, feather or other
material of the necklace accents a color or suggestion of color in some article of clothing you wear. But this is not essential.
The awkward definitions of albatrosses and necklaces are just that — awkward definitions. And it’s up to each of us to declare what we
will wear around our necks, the reasons that justify carrying these things forward into our futures, and the amount of time we chose to
announce to the world and to ourselves that we have done bad things or had bad things done to us. One sad and perhaps funny part of this
tendency to beat ourselves up is that no one really cares.
Slumped shoulders, low expectations, a barely audible voice and the accompanying negative attitude will attract people and situations
that are moldy, pessimistic and depressed. And if this is true, the opposite characteristics will draw to you people and situations that are
fresh, optimistic and bursting with positive energy.
I remember a story, that I was once told, about a person who had recently experienced the death of a loved one. His grief was beyond
measure and he questioned why such horrible fate had befallen him. He surely felt that his deep sorrow was deeper and greater than any
grief that had been experienced by anyone in the history of humankind. He embarked on a relatively short journey to seek the solace and
direction of a wise man who lived on a mountaintop not too far away. When the grieving traveler reached the home of the wise man, he laid
out every sad detail of his dilemma. The wise man listened with great attention and compassion and told his guest to spend three days going
from house to house in search of someone who had not experienced great loss in their life. The traveler looked at the wise man as though he
had lost his mind, but set out to follow the instructions that he had been given. He knocked at the door of the first house he passed. The door
opened and the person who resided there listened politely to the traveler’s sad tale. After the story was told, the resident of the house
commenced to tell her own story of very recent and profound loss. A similar thing happened at the second house and the third and fourth and
tenth. As the sun was setting on the third day, the traveler came to understand that intense pain was not unique to him; that his sad tale was
different from others he had heard simply because the details differed here and there. No longer feeling so alone, he returned home without
seeing the wise man again, confident that he had learned the lesson he had set out to learn.
He began to realize that he had very little if any control over external circumstances, and that the only thing that he could truly direct
was how he responded to the people and circumstances that surrounded him. Everyone had many sad stories to tell. Everyone had been
abused in one way or another. Everyone had had their particular brand of brilliance overlooked at some point in time. Everyone had been
dismissed and disregarded at times when they should have been revered. Everyone lost people who were near and dear to them. Some
through divorce. Others through accidents. And still others through disease or other means. Any way you look at it, the focus of the love in
question was no longer there in the form that we imagined it would remain forever. It had been taken away unfairly and, sometimes,
unexpectedly and it hurt.
Who doesn’t go through the ups and downs of good fortune and bad fortune, smooth sailing and rough seas, and ultimately life and
death? I was in a locker room after swimming a few laps at a local pool. I saw a person whom I had not seen in a long time, and I asked,
“How ya doin’?” He answered, “Just tryin’ to keep my head above water.” I said, “I know the words to that song.” A person who just
happened to be in the vicinity and was not an intended part of our conversation chimed in, “Do you want to hear my version of that song?”
We all laughed and I said, “You disappoint me. I thought that you were the one person who was immune.” “Immune to what?” he asked.
“Immune to life,” I answered.
So the choices are simple to say but harder to carry out. Albatrosses make lousy necklaces. They’re heavy and smell as they get older.
They make the back of your neck sweat and the feathers stink. If we adorn our necks with heavy necklaces made from the bodies of dead
birds we are likely to attract animals that see dead albatrosses for what they are: Carrion. Vulture food. Or we can place the birds gently
down on the ground, apologize from our hearts for the misery we have caused, apologize from our hearts for the misery we have caused
ourselves, and walk reverently on. Walk on down the road breathing the fresh and fragrant fall air with our backs straight and chests puffed
out with a lightness and swagger that can only come from letting go. And since remembering is compulsory, one albatross feather in our
necklace should suffice.
(1) “Rime” was a popular spelling of the word “rhyme” in 1798
experiences that slow us down, or dead things that we lug around that make our journeys through life more difficult. You’d have to ask a
merchant marine or some other person who spends a lot of time at sea, but word has it that albatrosses follow ships and are thought to be
signs of good luck. Samuel Coleridge’s 1798 poem, “Rime(1) of the Ancient Mariner,” is the story of a sailor who kills an albatross and the
fate of the ship and sailors take a turn for the worse following the murder of the bird. As a form of penance, the person who killed the bird
was forced, by his companions, to wear the dead bird around his neck as a constant reminder of his terrible deed.
A necklace, on the other hand, is a piece of jewelry that is worn around the neck. A frill. A bauble. An unnecessary thing designed to
enhance the appearance or ego of the person who wears it. You don’t need it. Your head will not fall off without it. It is not likely to be put
around your neck as a painful reminder of some awful thing you have done. And it’s kind of magical when a stone, bead, feather or other
material of the necklace accents a color or suggestion of color in some article of clothing you wear. But this is not essential.
The awkward definitions of albatrosses and necklaces are just that — awkward definitions. And it’s up to each of us to declare what we
will wear around our necks, the reasons that justify carrying these things forward into our futures, and the amount of time we chose to
announce to the world and to ourselves that we have done bad things or had bad things done to us. One sad and perhaps funny part of this
tendency to beat ourselves up is that no one really cares.
Slumped shoulders, low expectations, a barely audible voice and the accompanying negative attitude will attract people and situations
that are moldy, pessimistic and depressed. And if this is true, the opposite characteristics will draw to you people and situations that are
fresh, optimistic and bursting with positive energy.
I remember a story, that I was once told, about a person who had recently experienced the death of a loved one. His grief was beyond
measure and he questioned why such horrible fate had befallen him. He surely felt that his deep sorrow was deeper and greater than any
grief that had been experienced by anyone in the history of humankind. He embarked on a relatively short journey to seek the solace and
direction of a wise man who lived on a mountaintop not too far away. When the grieving traveler reached the home of the wise man, he laid
out every sad detail of his dilemma. The wise man listened with great attention and compassion and told his guest to spend three days going
from house to house in search of someone who had not experienced great loss in their life. The traveler looked at the wise man as though he
had lost his mind, but set out to follow the instructions that he had been given. He knocked at the door of the first house he passed. The door
opened and the person who resided there listened politely to the traveler’s sad tale. After the story was told, the resident of the house
commenced to tell her own story of very recent and profound loss. A similar thing happened at the second house and the third and fourth and
tenth. As the sun was setting on the third day, the traveler came to understand that intense pain was not unique to him; that his sad tale was
different from others he had heard simply because the details differed here and there. No longer feeling so alone, he returned home without
seeing the wise man again, confident that he had learned the lesson he had set out to learn.
He began to realize that he had very little if any control over external circumstances, and that the only thing that he could truly direct
was how he responded to the people and circumstances that surrounded him. Everyone had many sad stories to tell. Everyone had been
abused in one way or another. Everyone had had their particular brand of brilliance overlooked at some point in time. Everyone had been
dismissed and disregarded at times when they should have been revered. Everyone lost people who were near and dear to them. Some
through divorce. Others through accidents. And still others through disease or other means. Any way you look at it, the focus of the love in
question was no longer there in the form that we imagined it would remain forever. It had been taken away unfairly and, sometimes,
unexpectedly and it hurt.
Who doesn’t go through the ups and downs of good fortune and bad fortune, smooth sailing and rough seas, and ultimately life and
death? I was in a locker room after swimming a few laps at a local pool. I saw a person whom I had not seen in a long time, and I asked,
“How ya doin’?” He answered, “Just tryin’ to keep my head above water.” I said, “I know the words to that song.” A person who just
happened to be in the vicinity and was not an intended part of our conversation chimed in, “Do you want to hear my version of that song?”
We all laughed and I said, “You disappoint me. I thought that you were the one person who was immune.” “Immune to what?” he asked.
“Immune to life,” I answered.
So the choices are simple to say but harder to carry out. Albatrosses make lousy necklaces. They’re heavy and smell as they get older.
They make the back of your neck sweat and the feathers stink. If we adorn our necks with heavy necklaces made from the bodies of dead
birds we are likely to attract animals that see dead albatrosses for what they are: Carrion. Vulture food. Or we can place the birds gently
down on the ground, apologize from our hearts for the misery we have caused, apologize from our hearts for the misery we have caused
ourselves, and walk reverently on. Walk on down the road breathing the fresh and fragrant fall air with our backs straight and chests puffed
out with a lightness and swagger that can only come from letting go. And since remembering is compulsory, one albatross feather in our
necklace should suffice.
(1) “Rime” was a popular spelling of the word “rhyme” in 1798
