{"id":989,"date":"2020-01-26T00:08:17","date_gmt":"2020-01-26T00:08:17","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/lyricality.org\/?p=989"},"modified":"2021-06-24T19:12:19","modified_gmt":"2021-06-24T19:12:19","slug":"ed-bok-lees-mitochondrial-night-the-dizzying-balance-of-sacred-encounter","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/lyricality.org\/2020\/01\/26\/ed-bok-lees-mitochondrial-night-the-dizzying-balance-of-sacred-encounter\/","title":{"rendered":"Ed Bok Lee\u2019s Mitochondrial Night: the dizzying balance of sacred encounter"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

For more than a month, I have been reading the finalist books for Lyricality\u2019s \u201cRead Poetry Central Minnesota 2020\u201d program. In each book, I experienced a feeling too powerful to express, something beyond words. Now I\u2019ve just finished reading Ed Bok Lee\u2019s Mitochondrial Night, <\/em>and his \u201cAuthor Statement\u201d has given me words to name my experience. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Spending a good many hours with five books of poems by five Minnesota authors, I feel as if I\u2019ve spent much time in sacred spaces.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In his \u201cAuthor Statement, Ed Bok Lee writes, \u201cIf, as Czeslaw Milosz <\/a>wrote, \u2018language is the only homeland,\u2019 then poetry is the oldest, most beautiful, most generous and \u2018real\u2019 house of worship on our collective earth that I know.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cEvery time I look into my daughter\u2019s eyes to see the future, I\u2019m reminded of this, and that the forces forever writing and revising every single biological cell in our bodies\u2014in sometimes harmonious, sometimes conflicting, sometimes revolutionary ways\u2014feels exactly<\/em> like poetry.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

What makes a space sacred?<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

Some people consider Mecca, Jerusalem, or Rome sacred because religious celebrations or pilgrimages require them to go there. Stone Henge in England <\/a>and the Khmer temples at Angkor in Cambodia<\/a>, constructed by ancient civilizations, were sacred because of their alignment with the sun or stars at certain times of year. The cross shape of Europe\u2019s Gothic cathedrals\u2019 floor plan made them sacred to medieval worshippers.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Questions about origin, meaning, power, helplessness, love, and the nature of reality draw people to make sacred spaces, and to visit them. In sacred spaces, people encounter mystery and experience wonder. People who make and\/or read poems also probe the nature of reality\u2014of life. And they experience feelings familiar to mystics\u2014mystery and awe. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Publishers Weekly<\/a> says that Ed Bok \u201cLee strikes a dizzying balance between the organic and the cosmic, the intimate and mythological.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

A dizzying balance <\/em>is an apt description of Mitochondrial Night<\/em>. It also describes those liminal (transitional) spaces of encounter, where contradictory experiences and oppositional forces\u2014solitude and intimacy\/community, light and darkness, grievance and forgiveness, life and death, self and other\u2014meet and conjoin. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

To enter sacred space (or call it love-space, or paradox) is to accept that dualism is a hoax. To enter sacred space (to love with compassion), we must let go of our self-serving, hierarchical, “either\/or” mindset. Inside the sacred, we embrace the connective conjunction\u2014and. <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

We are experiencing rapid polarization. But what really<\/em> divides us? Do the issues of identity politics\u2014left versus right; feminism versus patriarchy; POCI versus white; LGBTQ versus straight\u2014polarize us? Or, is the real distinction between people who accept and respect \u201cotherness,\u201d and those who habitually, reactively vilify \u201cthem, those people on the other side,\u201d which leads to a destructive, warring way of life? <\/p>\n\n\n\n

When we enter a sacred space (a place where wisdom is found), we gradually learn what the polarizing force really<\/em> is, and where it dwells. Fear, which manifests as hate, is continually at war with Love, which manifests as kindness and compassion. Both Fear and Love are at work in every individual human, and every human lives in the threshold space between them. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

There are some people who inhabit that threshold consciously, with self-awareness. I have met some of them. They have the vision to recognize, and the courage to enter, liminal spaces. They are willing to suspend certainty and live with contradiction. These people ask important, unresolved (perhaps unsolvable) questions about the meaning of \u201ccommunity and nation and world, cosmology, culture, otherness, language, truth, myth.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

These are the questions Ed Bok Lee is asking about how to raise his mixed-race daughter, born in 2016, \u201cinto a rapidly polarizing America and world.\u201d He writes that his third book of poems, Mitochondrial Night<\/em>, \u201c is an attempt to explore the refugee and immigrant status of all seeds . . . stars . . . cells . . . and ancestors. Where do any of us really come from, in both genetic and cosmic terms, and where are we going? . . . Who is the \u2018us\u2019\u2014in terms of race, nationality, gender, species\u2014that we most fundamentally seek to preserve.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Today I would like to share examples from Ed Bok Lee\u2019s Mitochondrial Nights, <\/em>to show how reading poetry can feel like entering a mysterious, sacred space\u2014a space of tension and paradox. In these poems, I feel as if I am peering deeply into a child\u2019s eyes. I see suffering and<\/em> hope, sorrow and<\/em> joy, fear and<\/em> love. In these poems I experience something I can only describe as sacred, by which I mean truthful<\/em> and real<\/em>. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sacred Space: Stillness <\/strong><\/h2>\n\n\n\n

\u2018Behold,\u2019 says the poet. <\/em>My friend Charles Wm. Preble<\/a> said this over coffee one afternoon. We were talking about why poetry matters, and whether poets do important work. \u201cBehold is a word that startles,\u201d he said, \u201clike a magician. To behold is to be still, observe, be held.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Writing and reading a poem are akin to birdwatching or enjoying a sunset. Poetry is meditative, it encourages contemplation. It comes from and leads to the inner stillness of nonjudgmental observation. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Mystic meditators teach their students to quiet the mind into sacred stillness, hoping to awaken consciousness. The first step is toward awareness, is to observe. <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Look<\/em>, is also the opening call of Mitochondrial Night, <\/em>in its first poem \u201cRandom Floating Cells With Style,\u201d which addresses the reader with these words:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

You gathering of random floating cells with style.<\/p>

You\u2014all of you\u2014dying trillions of times every hour<\/p>

to recommence each new forever inside these eyes. Look.<\/p>

Look at me seeing you and seeing me from the beginning of the universe
and time.<\/p>

Never forget: wherever, whenever you are, is the history of all you loved
in the dark. <\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

Sacred Space: Interconnection<\/strong><\/h2>\n\n\n\n

From the stillness of observation comes the recognition of interconnectedness. Coffee House Press<\/a>, the publisher of Mitochondrial Night<\/em>, says this about Ed Bok Lee\u2019s poems: \u201cUsing lush, exact imagery, whether about the corner bar or a hilltop in Korea, Lee is a careful observer, tracking and documenting the way that seemingly small moments can lead to larger insights.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Mystics\u2014those people who traverse sacred spaces\u2014might tell us where those large insights lead. The goal of mysticism is to see the interconnection of everything. A large insight might reveal that to destroy another being, or to destroy the environment in which we live, is self-destructive. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Poets, however, don\u2019t usually aim to teach their insights, or tell us where those insights ought to take us. I\u2019ve written before that poems don\u2019t provide answers\u2014they are not little how-to manuals for living. <\/a>Instead, poets invite us to participate, to contemplate alongside them, to see and sense, and then to make our own sense. My favorite kind of poem acts like a companion. It walks beside me, encouraging me to experience<\/em> insight. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

For example, in \u201cSunday Listening\u201d the poet contemplates the \u201cBabbling \/\/ coos and clucks\u201d his fourteen-month-old makes, comparing her sounds to: <\/p>\n\n\n\n

 . . . the nomenclature 
of trees, wild syntax<\/p>

of grass, weeds, planets, bottles,
spores, and so many dragonflies!\u2014<\/p>

each with a language as baffling as my own
daughter\u2019s lexical singsong
\u2026<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

I\u2019m not told what to think or how to feel. I\u2019m invited to quiet my noisy thoughts and simply observe. And what I see is not only an infant and her relationship to prehuman beings, but also her ancestors’ DNA in:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2026
this little heart-shaped mouth
so hard at work with both<\/p>

her mother\u2019s and father\u2019s lips;
all four grandparents\u2019 taste buds;<\/p>

all eight great-
grandparents\u2019 glottises in one,
\u2026<\/em><\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

In sacred spaces we encounter our heritage\u2014family legends shared at funerals, tribal folklore told in sacred circles; religious and cultural stories, passed from generation to generation in ceremonies, rituals, and liturgies. We remember the past; we dream of a better the future. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sacred Space: Hope<\/strong><\/h2>\n\n\n\n

In sacred spaces, we plant our insights into our children and grandchildren, hoping to send them out with enough wisdom to know how to face the problem of being human, and despite the inevitable heartbreak and trauma, to love life. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

In \u201cBabygirl Learns to Take a Trip Around Venus,\u201d Ed Bok Lee writes:  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Look, I\u2019ll say, listen to that far bouquet of stars, its pulse
like an autumn copse of quaking aspens.
I\u2019ll insist: in this infinite universe, no one cares: Where are you from? <\/em>
What<\/em> are you?<\/em>
It may not be true.
But I\u2019ll say it anyway: far in your future,
all <\/em>will recognize a human being when they encounter one.
And if they don\u2019t\u2014
as with violets, red maples, stinging nettles, even Jupiter\u2019s loneliest moon\u2014
you\u2019ll still know what to do. <\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

Sacred Space: Love<\/strong><\/h2>\n\n\n\n

You may say I\u2019m a dreamer.<\/em> But, as John Lennon so famously sang, I\u2019m not the only one. <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

The world is full of poets. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Poetry matters because poets matter. Poets are seers. They call us to see–to gaze, to behold, to recognize that life is dear. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

In \u201cRandom Floating Cells With Style,\u201d Ed Bok Lee says it this way:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

To love one another with quantum certainty is to volumize the stars.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

Experience the dizzying balance of sacred encounter<\/strong><\/h2>\n\n\n\n

Read poetry.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

To Order Mitochondrial Night<\/em> by Ed Bock Lee<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

Mitochondrial Night<\/em> is published by Coffee House Press, an internationally renowned nonprofit publisher of literary fiction, essay, poetry, and other work that doesn’t fit neatly into genre categories. Lyricality encourages you to support your local independent book seller, or if you prefer to shop online, support this Minnesota publisher by ordering directly from them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Click here<\/a> or on the cover image below to order Mitochondrial Night<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/a><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

About Ed Bok Lee<\/h2>\n\n\n\n
\"\"
Ed Bok Lee
<\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n

Ed Bok Lee is the author of Whorled <\/em>(Coffee House Press) and a recipient of a 2012 American Book Award and the Minnesota Book Award in Poetry. Lee is the son of North and South Korean emigrants–his mother originally a refugee from what is now North Korea; his father was raised during the Japanese colonial period and Korean War in what is now South Korea. Lee grew up in South Korea, North Dakota, and Minnesota, and was educated there and on both U.S. coasts, Russia, South Korea, and Kazakhstan. He teaches at Metropolitan State University in Saint Paul, Minnesota. Other honors include the Asian American Literary Award (Members’ Choice Award) and a PEN Open Book Award. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Read Poetry Central Minnesota 2020<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

Mitochondrial Night <\/em>is one of five books selected by Paige Riehl<\/a> for Lyricality’s “Read Poetry Central Minnesota 2020” program. The other finalists books are:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Enough<\/em> by Kris Bigalk<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Simples<\/em> by KateLynn Hibbard<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Bodega<\/em> by Su Hwang<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Carrying Water to the Field: New and Selected Poems<\/em> by Joyce Sutphen<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"
This activity is made possible by the voters of Minnesota through a grant from the Central MN Arts Board, thanks to a legislative appropriation from the arts and cultural heritage fund.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

In his \u201cAuthor Statement, Ed Bok Lee writes, \u201cIf, as Czeslaw Milosz wrote, \u2018language is the only homeland,\u2019 then poetry is the oldest, most beautiful, most generous and \u2018real\u2019 house of worship on our collective earth that I know. Every time I look into my daughter\u2019s eyes to see the future, I\u2019m reminded of this, and that the forces forever writing and revising every single biological cell in our bodies\u2014in sometimes harmonious, sometimes conflicting, sometimes revolutionary ways\u2014feels exactly like poetry. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":993,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"_uf_show_specific_survey":0,"_uf_disable_surveys":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[203],"tags":[139,140,143,144,142,145,141],"aioseo_notices":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/lyricality.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/989"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/lyricality.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/lyricality.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lyricality.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lyricality.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=989"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/lyricality.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/989\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lyricality.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/993"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/lyricality.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=989"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lyricality.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=989"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lyricality.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=989"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}