LIVING IN THE NOW WITH FRENCH POET JACQUES PRÉVERT

‘Sweet present of the present.’ Jacques Prévert.

Here's the 'secret' to living fully and mindfully. This is it---learn how to live in a 'small second of eternity'. That's the good advice from a certain Frenchman of yesteryear.

The greatest French poet of last century was Jacques Prévert (1900-1977) [pictured right and below]. His reputation in that regard was established with the publication of his book Paroles (a volume of his collected poems) in 1945.

Prévert was also a distinguished and innovative screenwriter (Les Enfants du Paradis (Children of Paradise), Remorques (Stormy Waters))---a great exponent of French poetic realism---and a vehement anti-clericalist ('Our Father / Who art in heaven / Stay there / And we will stay on earth / Which is sometimes so pretty' [from his poem 'Pater Noster']). I have loved and enjoyed his poetry and fables for children for over 45 years. Actually, I first read a collaborated work of his, the whimsical children's book Bim (which was also made into a film written and directed by Albert Lamorisse of The Red Balloon (Le Ballon Rouge) fame), when I was a child. 

What I particularly love about Prévert's poems is his ability to capture a single moment, or a succession of single moments, of the eternal now---for all time. Take, for example, his poem ‘Alicante’:

Une orange sur la table

Ta robe sur le tapis

Et toi dans mon lit.

Doux présent du présent

Fraîcheur de la nuit

Chaleur de ma vie.

An orange on the table

Your dress on the rug

And you in my bed.

Sweet present of the present

Cool of the night

Warmth of my life.

‘Sweet present of the present.’ How much truth there is in those five words (well, four in the original French)! The present moment is the only moment we truly have. Some call it the eternal now, because it is always the present moment which is ever-renewing itself as---the present moment! The eternal now is the portal through which we experience the present moment, indeed every moment---but only one moment at a time.

So many of Prévert’s poems are set in Paris, especially the Paris after World War II. Many concern love ('Love is so simple,' he wrote). One finds in almost all of his poems that typically French post-War existential angst and disillusionment but there is also an almost surreal touch to some of his writings. As respects the latter, there is no surprise there as Prévert was once (albeit only for a short period) a member of the Surrealist movement. 

Here is Prévert’s poem ‘Paris de nuit’ (‘Paris At Night’). As you read the six lines of this poem you can actually see and feel the present moment renew itself into the next present moment and so forth:

Trois allumettes une à une allumées dans la nuit

La premiére pour voir ton visage tout entier

La seconde pour voir tes yeux

La dernière pour voir ta bouche

Et l'obscuritè tout entière pour me rappeler tout cela

En te serrant dans mes bras.

Three matches one by one struck in the night

The first to see your face in its entirety

The second to see your eyes

The last to see your mouth

And the darkness all around to remind me of all these

As I hold you in my arms. 

Could you not see and perhaps hear the three matches being struck one after the other? Well, I could. And that imagery of light and dark. There is the light of the present moment---and the darkness of all around it (the enormity of eternity, the great unkown).

The author (IEJ) in Guérande, France in 2014

Next is Prévert’s poem ‘Les prodiges de la liberté’ (‘The Signs of Freedom’, but often cited as ‘The Wonders of Life’):

Entre les dents d'un piège

La patte d'un renard blanc

Et du sang sur la neige

Le sang du renard blanc

Et des traces dans la neige

Les traces du renard blanc

Qui s'enfuit sur trois pattes

Dans le soleil couchant

Avec entre les dents

Un lièvre encore vivant.

In the teeth of a trap

The paw of a white fox

And on the snow, blood

The blood of the white fox

And in the snow, tracks

The tracks of the white fox

Who escaped on three legs

As the sun was setting

A rabbit between his teeth

Still alive.

Parc de Belleville, Paris, France

That poem, along with many others of Prévert, reminds me of the haiku poetry of Japan, particularly the poems of Bashō. There is a directness and an immediacy about the words and their flow---a directness and immediacy that is the very essence of the living of these days. It is the practice of the presence of mindfulness from one moment to the next. Take, for example, Prévert's 'haikuesque' poem 'L'Autumne' ('Autumn'):

Un cheval s'écroule au milieu d'une allée 

Les feuilles tombent sur lui 

Notre amour frissonne 

Et le soleil aussi. 

A horse collapses in the middle of an alley

Leaves fall on him

Our love trembles

And the sun too.

You get the same directness and immediacy of the present moment--frozen in time and space---in the poem 'La Belle Saison' (English title: 'Summer'):

A jeun perdue glacée 

Toute seule sans un sou 

Une fille de seize ans 

Immobile debout 

Place de la Concorde 

A midi le Quinze Août.

Lost, starving, frozen

Alone, and penniless

A sixteen-year old girl

Standing motionless

Place de la Concorde

August fifteenth, noon, more or less.

Saint-Marc-sur-Mer, France (photo taken by the author)

I'll leave you to read offline Prévert's much longer poem 'Déjeuner du Matin' (English title: 'Breakfast'). (‘He poured the coffee / Into the cup / He put the milk / Into the cup of coffee / He put the sugar / Into the coffee with milk / With a small spoon / He churned / He drank the coffee … .’ It is Prévert at his very best.)

Now, here is his poem ‘Le jardin’ (‘The Garden’):

Des milliers et des milliers d'années
Ne sauraient suffire 

Pour dire 

La petite seconde d'éternité 

Où tu m'as embrassé 

Où je t'ai embrassèe 

Un matin dans la lumière de l'hiver 

Au parc Montsouris à Paris 

A Paris 

Sur la terre 

La terre qui est un astre.

Thousands and thousands of years

would not be enough

to tell of

that small second of eternity

when you held me

when I held you

one morning

in winter’s light,

in Montsouris Park

in Paris,

on earth,

this earth

that is a star.

‘That small second of eternity’ ('that tiny instant of all eternity', in another translation)---that is all we have. In the immensity of all eternity our whole life here on earth is, yes, one small second. That is a very sobering reflection but know this: if you want to live fully then you must live each second as if it were your last. (Not to put too fine a point on it, it may well be your last. Who knows?) 

But there's much more to those words 'that small second of eternity', for the only life we can truly know and experience is that ever-so-ephemeral present moment---but it is more than sufficient ... provided we use it wisely. Here's some good advice on the subject from Prévert: 'Life is a cherry / Death is the pit / Love the cherry tree.' And this: 'Eat on the grass / Hurry up / Sooner or later / The grass will eat on you.' Get the message?

Remember this, my friends---‘that small second of eternity’ is of enormous importance. Indeed, it is of infinite importance. It was William Blake who wrote:

TO see a world in a grain of sand,

  And a heaven in a wild flower,

Hold infinity in the palm of your hand,

  And eternity in an hour.

Just as the entire world is in a grain of sand, so the immensity and infinity of all eternity is in each and every second of life---your life!

I will let Jacques Prévert have the final word. It's about happiness. 'Even if happiness forgets you a little bit, never completely forget about it.'

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DON’T MEDITATE TO ‘GET’ SOMETHING!

‘Meditation is a state of mind which looks at everything with

complete attention, totally, not just parts of it.’ J. Krishnamurti.

I have a good friend (let’s call him Steve) who is a scientist---a physicist, to be exact. He taught physics in universities in Australia and Canada. Steve and his wife regularly attend meetings of my home fellowship. He is one of the most learned and scholarly persons I’ve ever known, but he finds it extremely difficult to meditate.

Yes, when it comes to our guided meditation, Steve seems either unable or unwilling to ‘let go’, even to the extent of closing his eyes and staying still for just a few seconds. He fidgets and constantly moves around in his chair and is clearly uncomfortable at the thought of any form of meditation, even meditation of the most naturalistic kind.

Perhaps the reason for Steve's 'resistance' is that, as a disciplined scientist, he always wants to know and control. he is also a skeptic, which goes with the territory, so to speak. A good thing, skepticism. Doubt, not faith, is the name of the game. Steve relies entirely upon facts and evidence, that is, on what he can see and know, and also on inferences and conclusions that can be drawn rationally from the available evidence. 

Now, I admire that, for I, too, am very much the empiricist. I, too, reject supernatural, occult and all other unobservable explanations of the otherwise observable conditions of existence. ‘The things that can be seen, heard and learned are what I prize most,’ wrote Heraclitus. True, very true, but meditation can indeed be ‘something’ that is seen, heard and learned.

Steve recently said to me, ‘I have trouble with mindfulness meditation.’ I say to him, ‘Steve, you do practise mindfulness all the time, but you don’t seem to realize it. Mindfulness is paying attention, on purpose. It is being aware, including being aware of your awareness---and even your unawareness. Mindfulness is doing one thing at a time, purposefully and knowingly---like when you're reading a scientific journal article which requires all of your focus, awareness and and attention. That is mindfulness, and you are engaged in a form of meditation more often than you think---even when you're driving your car or washing the dishes. You get my point, don’t you?’ Steve, ever the skeptic, begrudgingly answered, ‘Yes. I suppose I do.’

Many people have a terrible fear of ‘losing control’. Ironically, a lot of these people are already ‘out of control’ in that their lives are controlled by fears, phobias, addictions and compulsions that are seemingly beyond their personal or conscious control. Now, one thing meditation is not is this---it is not ‘mind control’ in the sense of subjugation, sublimation or suppression. Meditation is being choicelessly (that is, non-judgmentally) aware of what is.

In order to properly meditate you must go gently … and take it easy. More importantly, the ‘effort’ involved in meditation is of a relaxed albeit deliberate kind. It has been described as the ‘effort of no-effort.’ ‘Resist not’ is the important principle involved.

Back to Steve. I said to him, ‘When it comes to our group mindfulness, or your own practice of it, you will never lose control, go into some trance, or otherwise lose contact with external reality. At any time you can cease your meditation and go about your ordinary business.’ He seemed a bit happier, but I don’t think I have fully convinced him. He’s a hard case, but I love him. He is a man of integrity---and great intelligence. That may sound patronizing, but it’s damn true.

One more thing. We must never meditate to get something---not even peace of mind or happiness. If you meditate to get something, more often than not you will fail. If you want peace of mind or happiness you need to ‘let go’ of everything that is holding you back from enjoying peace of mind and happiness. The Buddha was right when he spoke of the need to eradicate the causes of our unhappiness in order to be happy. Listen to these nuggets of wisdom from the great Buddhist teacher Ajahn Chah [pictured right]:

‘Remember you don't meditate to “get” anything, but to get “rid” of things. We do it, not with desire, but with letting go. If you “want” anything, you won't find it.’

‘We practise to learn letting go, not to increase our holding on. Enlightenment appears when you stop wanting anything.’

Krishnamurti [pictured top left] made a similar point when he said, ‘Meditation is not a means to an end. It is both the means and the end.’

Letting go is never easy. All too often, we hold on to things, including negative emotions and states of mind, that are making and keeping us sick and unhappy. We get a perverse pleasure from being miserable.

Take charge---and let go.

RELATED POST

THE ‘PURPOSES’ OF MEDITATION

MINDFULNESS, WORD GAMES AND DEMENTIA

I turned 60 in March. In some ways I can’t believe I've made it to 60. Until I gave up drinking some 15 years ago I drank enough alcohol for 3 or 4 lifetimes. And I smoked a hell of a lot too until I gave up smoking some years ago. And I suffered from clinical depression for many years as well. I could go on. My major concern now is warding off dementia. (By the way, dementia is not a specific disease. It's an overall term that describes a wide range of symptoms associated with a decline in memory or other thinking skills severe enough to reduce a person's ability to perform everyday activities. Alzheimer's disease accounts for 60 to 80 per cent of cases.)

Now, I haven’t been diagnosed with dementia but in recent times I have observed in myself some cognitive changes that are consistent with mild cognitive impairment (MCI), in particular, some loss of ability to remember recent events. I know one thing, I am definitely not as mentally 'sharp' as I was 20 years ago, or even 5 years ago.

Source: Physiopedia. Carers guide to dementia.

MCI is a slight but noticeable and measurable decline in cognitive abilities, including memory and thinking skills. It can affect up to 20 per cent of the population at any one time—and half of them will progress to full-on dementia. In other words, a person with MCI is at an increased risk of developing dementia. Of course, years of drinking didn’t help there, but there are certain risk factors not in my favour such as past heavy drinking and smoking, hypertension and elevated cholesterol (albeit both well-controlled these days), and depression (well in the past now, but who knows).

A year or so ago my neurologist gave me a simple dementia test (a cognitive test). I passed the test but I had a little bit of trouble with one or two tasks, the main one being this --- I was asked to name, in 60 seconds, as many words as I could beginning with the letter, say, ‘T’. I started out well --- ‘task’, ‘test’, ‘train’, ‘transport’, ‘truck’, and so on, and so on, but after calling out about a dozen words beginning with the letter ‘T’ there was a long silence on my part. That’s right. I  just couldn’t think of any more words beginning with the letter ‘T’. Well, I did pass the test overall but I scored not at all well on the task just described. Hmm.

So, I am into so-called ‘brain games’ in the form of various word games and puzzles (my favourite one is that old chestnut Jotto, a logic-oriented game), IQ test problems, brisk walking, and various other activities including, of course, mindfulness. 

I’m good on numerical ability (despite hating math at school), classification and general mental ability, and very good on visuo-spatial ability but, despite being a very good wordsmith, it comes as quite as a shock to learn that I’m not good at all when it comes to questions, games and puzzles that test verbal ability (eg ‘Find the odd one out: LEEGA / WARPSOR / RALK / LAHEW … Answer: WHALE [All the others are birds: eagle, sparrow and lark]). Hence, Jotto. (My favourite actress, Lucille Ball, excelled in Jotto and other word games such as Scrabble, so I've read. She would even play Jotto while at the wheel of her car, being able to retain in her head a whole series of 'jots', a jot being a certain number of letters that were in both the guessed word and the ‘secret word’.)

Now, as to the importance of engaging in active leisure activities to help ward off dementia, there are studies suggesting that those who have no leisure activities, or who have very little diversity in leisure activities, or who engage only in passive leisure activities (principally watching TV) are more likely to develop dementia (see, eg, Friedland R P et al, Proc Nat Acad Sci USA, 10.1073/pnas. 061002998). Additionally, it seems that leisure activities may reduce the risk of incident dementia, possibly by providing a reserve that delays the onset of clinical manifestations of the disease (see, eg, Scarmeas N et al, Neurology 2001;57(12):2236-42). 

And diet? Well, dietary patterns have long been associated with decreasing cognitive decline and reducing one’s risk of dementia. In that regard, those who follow the MIND diet (high on natural plant-based foods and low on animal and high saturated fat foods) can lower their dementia risk by as much as 50 per cent. So, like many others, I've made some changes to my diet.

As an aside, there are a couple of prescription medications I take that can cause memory loss. The drugs in question are a statin (a cholesterol-lowering drug) and an anticonvulsant (to treat nerve pain associated with my trigeminal neuralgia).

As respects statins, a study published in the journal Pharmacotherapy in 2009 found that three out of four people using statins experienced adverse cognitive effects ‘probably or definitely related to’ the drug. The researchers also found that 90 per cent of the patients who stopped statin therapy reported improvements in cognition, sometimes within days. In February 2012 the US Food and Drug Administration ordered drug companies to add a new warning label about possible memory problems to the prescribing information for statins.

Then, there is the anticonvulsant drug that I take. Anticonvulsants, that depress signalling in the central nervous system, can cause memory loss.

Now, here’s something close to my heart and the subject-matter of my blog. A 2013 study published in Neuroscience Letters found as little as 15 minutes of daily meditation can significantly slow that progression. Researchers had a group of adults with MCI, all between the ages of 55 and 90, do a guided meditation for 15 to 30 minutes a day for eight weeks, as well attend weekly mindfulness check-ins. Eight weeks later, MRIs showed improved functional connectivity in the default mode network (that is, the part of your brain that never shuts down activity), and slowed shrinkage of the hippocampus, the main part of the brain responsible for memory that usually shrinks with dementia. Participants also showed an overall improvement in cognition and well-being.

Studies also show that brain-training games help to sharpen the mind and potentially prevent cognitive diseases like Alzheimer’s disease. As for speaking more than one language, it would appear that being bilingual helps delay the onset of several forms of dementia. Previous studies of people with Alzheimer’s in Canada showed that those who are fluent in two languages begin to exhibit symptoms four to five years later than people who are monolingual. 

A leading theory as to why bilingualism can affect dementia suggests the key may be the constant suppression of one language, and switching between the two. If switching languages is the reason, it could also explain why the researchers saw no additional benefits of speaking more than two languages. So, I’m trying to re-learn French, a subject in which I excelled at high school (7th in the State [New South Wales, Australia] in the HSC in 1972), but now a language I’ve virtually forgotten in the ensuing 43 years. And I'm finding it damn hard! Whereas 40 years ago I could learn, say, a dozen new French words each evening, and remember them all a week later (and longer), it's not so today. I've forgotten most of the words by next morning. It's all very depressing, especially in light of something I've read, namely, that picking up a new language's vocabulary is supposedly much easier for adults than learning the rules that govern its grammar or syntax. (As for the latter, egad!) Additionally, it is said that older learners of another language are less likely to have good pronunciation or accent.

Well, there we have it. Am I worried that I may get dementia? Yes and no. Yes, for obvious reasons. No, because I live my life one day at a time, never thinking the worst nor fearing it. I'm ready for whatever life dishes out.

IMPORTANT NOTICE: See the Terms of Use and Disclaimer. The information provided on this blog is not a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis or treatment. Never delay or disregard seeking professional medical advice from your medical practitioner or other qualified health provider because of something you have read on this blog. For immediate advice or support call Lifeline on 13 1 1 14 or Kids Helpline on 1800 55 1800. For information, advice and referral on mental illness contact the SANE Helpline on 1800 18 SANE (7263) go online via sane.org.
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