用诗歌疗愈自己.docVIP

用诗歌疗愈自己 　　我??读诗写诗，并非为它的灵巧。 　　我们读诗写诗，因为我们是人类的一员。 　　而人类充满了热情。医药、法律、商业、工程， 　　这些都是高贵的理想，并且是维生的必需条件。 　　而诗、美、浪漫、爱，这些是我们生存的原因。 　　―《死亡诗社》 　　“I never could connect with poetry，” Jan said. “I’m a math teacher！” She was sitting on my living room couch surrounded by piles of poetry books. On the coffee table was a stack of cards， each with a different poem on it. Even some of the art on the wall had hand-calligraphed2） verses among the colors. 　　I could relate to3） Jan’s words. For many years， I was actually afraid of poetry. I felt as though it was the secret language of an elitist club that I had not been invited to join. Though I loved poetry as a child， the harsh and overly analytical way it was taught in my high school had intimidated me. Suddenly my magical world of words and feeling had turned into “iambic4） pentameters5），” “dactylic6） tetrameters7），” “rhyme schemes” and “lineation.” I decided then that poetry was not for me after all. 　　Jan’s glance fell on a stack of Mary Oliver8）’s books， and tears came to her eyes. “A few years ago， when I started teaching at my current job， the first friend I made was Rita， an English teacher and a poet. I confessed to her my inability to understand poetry. With a knowing look in her eye， she said， ‘Don’t worry. I’ll take care of that！’” 　　“A few months later，” Jan continued， “Rita presented me with a beautifully decorated box for my 46th birthday. Inside were dozens of envelopes， each holding a handwritten poem. And there was an instruction sheet： Each morning， as soon as you wake， take one of these envelopes to a quiet place with a window onto nature， or a beautiful plant， or a candle. Sit comfortably and read the poem aloud to yourself， preferably more than once.” 　　That was a dark time in Jan’s life： For more than a year， she had been struggling with a chronic illness. Her unlimited energy seemed to have drained away， leaving her perpetually pale and tired. Once， she loved to ride her mountain bike every day on the tr