Science and Spirit

“True, we are inclined to think that science deals with information about objective facts, and poetry with subjective feelings” – Niels Bohr

When I was newly sober, my feelings overwhelmed me. I began to write and share poetry as a way to be with overwhelming feelings. Writing helped me observe and accept reality and truth and sharing helped me to not be alone with sometimes raw, scary, confusing and shameful things. What I see now looking back and beginning to review and to annotate poems is that many of the poems themselves, and the writing was subconsciously, at first, challenging the clear and firm boundaries that I had erected between science and spirituality. They helped me develop a vocabulary that began to build a bridge between objectivity and subjectivity – between science and spirituality. And they became a tool that I now use to learn about who I am and how I am.

“But I myself find the division of the world into an objective and a subjective side much too arbitrary.”

brainpickings.org

I

Morning air
Crisp
Cold
The little pond
Covered
With
Brittle
Clear ice
Reflecting
Life above
And protecting 
Life below
As a hawk
Banks
And turns
Dancing
In the Sun

II

What is just beyond
I oft wonder and muse
Watching life
Precious and fragile 
Come to be
And come to pass
As I ponder my place
In this the imaginal realm


About the Author

Robert B is sober alcoholic in Madison, WI participating in AA and AlAnon at Fitchburg Serenity Club. He has been sober since April 21, 2007. He also began writing and sharing poetry on Facebook during his first year sober as part of his recovery from alcohol dependency, acute anxiety and chronic depression. He has found that creativity expressed primarily through writing poetry and playing various stringed instruments helped him heal and thrive.

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  1. Robert December 12, 2018 at 9:34 am - Reply

    Thanks Murray. I appreciate it when people see something while reading that I did not notice when writing.

  2. Murray J. December 12, 2018 at 5:48 am - Reply

    Once again, a touching poem. Ice isn’t necessarily a divider but a protector of lif  over and under. Nice!

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