The noble gases are helium, argon,
neon, krypton, radon, and xenon—stable
and unreactive, rarely combining with other
elements. Were they named after aristocrats,
who hold themselves apart from the hoi polloi?
The past is filled with stories of scientists,
writers, artists, and intellectuals who were either
independently wealthy or poor geniuses who
enjoyed sponsorship from a monarch or a wealthy
patron. The noble pursuit of knowledge requires
some means: to stock a lab with equipment, collect
novel specimens from the other side of the world,
run experiments over and over again. Buddhists say
it's better to be nonreactive, to cultivate a demeanor
not of callous indifference, but of dispassionate
observation. If I were gas, I know I wouldn't be able
to call my nature noble—I react. I'm the type who wears
her heart on her sleeve, cries over every hurt, large
or small; rants and rages even about things I clearly
have no dispensation over. There's a UK company
selling "Salt Made from Tears of Sorrow"—I wonder
where it's gathered, and if more is harvested from
mothers, or from children. As for me, I can only hope
the harm I've done in this life is outweighed by the good;
that the times I've been a brat or a bitch or a pain or
have made someone cry tears of misery are altogether
fewer than the times I've been of use, the times I've
kept myself open despite the possibility of a wound.
This is wonderful both poetically and in meaning . . . it both rang a bell and touched a nerve, simultaneously.
I will share the link to it on David’s site tomorrow.
Thanks,
Kris