Singularly moved
Not beloved by many, but lovely nonetheless.
Photo by Steve Halama via Unsplash
I, singularly moved
To love the lovely that are not beloved,
Of all the seasons most
Love winter.
– Coventry Patmore
If you read the comments section, you may recall that I mentioned this verse to Marlene when she said she loved winter. This is the post I told her I would write for her.
I can’t say I most love winter, but I do enjoy many aspects of it. However, the line of Patmore’s verse that captured my imagination was “the lovely that are not beloved.” There are all sorts of things that can fit that category, winter among them, and I wonder what else he might have had in mind when he described himself as having an affinity for what is disregarded by others.
Have you ever found yourself protesting, “Oh, but I love _____” (fill in something everyone else is criticizing). In that category, I think first of certain animals– crickets, or lizards, or mice, or squirrels– creatures others might see as pests, but ones I see as more cute than irritating. Or it could be dandelions, or radishes, or other plants nobody seems to appreciate. Maybe you actually like to eat liver or zucchini. You might like a book or movie others found boring. Maybe you secretly appreciated a school teacher that everyone else hated, or thought that oddball classmate was interesting because he was different. Did you feel strange because you liked something others denigrated? Or were you happy that you found joy where others could not?
I think if we keep an eye out for beauty with the awareness that it may be hidden, we will find it in unlikely places. And we might discover that others share our enjoyment of something most people miss completely. Do you have any tips for us about where you’ve found examples of “the lovely that are not beloved?”
Ray Stevens is known mostly for his funny songs, but if you’re old enough, you might remember his 1970 Grammy-winning song that wasn’t joking when it declared “everything is beautiful in its own way.” Despite the arguments against this philosophy, if you’re feeling irritable enough to make Grumpy Cat look like an optimist, zoom back to the groovy year of 1970 and enjoy a much-younger Ray Stevens singing his song. I bet it will make you smile.
This post was first published seven years ago. In re-reading it before I scheduled it to be posted again, I did take a few minutes to enjoy the lovely Ray Stevens song, and found myself (like the audience) swaying side to side with its lovely, happy message– a message needed now more than ever.
The original post, comments and photo are linked, along with two other related posts, below. These links to related posts, and their thumbnail photos, do not appear in the blog feed; they are only visible when viewing the individual posts by clicking on each one. I have no idea why, nor do I know how they choose the related posts. That’s just the way WordPress does things.
- Posted in: Uncategorized
- Tagged: awareness, commonplace, different, eye of the beholder, hidden beauty, joy, lovely, optimism, perspective, seasons, seeing, winter
Defeat Despair 
Good morning, Julia!
When you said, “zoom back to the groovy year of 1970” I just knew he’d be wearing an orange shirt, even before I clicked the link! Perhaps I actually remembered from seven years ago, but I do think he’s wearing a quintessential 1970s clothing color scheme.
it was a great time to be “an autumn.”
I’m sure I love unusual things, but I’m having a hard time thinking of am example at the moment.
Malto Meal (with peanut butter and honey)?
Installing hardwood floors is a quirky one, I suspect.
Winnie-the-Pooh and Sesame Street, at my age?
Anybody who likes to take pictures as much as you do is bound to love all sorts of unusual things. Perhaps the phrase could be edited to “the lovely that are unnoticed” and I know you are good at spotting those types of things!! After all, being ignored is almost as bad as being unloved. Actually I guess it’s pretty much the same thing. Keep on seeing with a photographer’s eye!
Hate to burst the bubble, but Pooh (and to some extent Sesame Street) are CLASSICS and they are loved by all ages. And that’s a good thing!
Good morning, Julia!
Yesterday, when I read this post, I couldn’t think of anything specific that I loved that others might not-so-much.
Last night at choir rehearsal, as we were putting one piece of sheet music back into our folders in preparation to take out the next piece, the choir director, Philip Brunelle, started talking about the next piece we’d be rehearsing. I heard him say things like, “some things you just have to do because they’re good for you,” and “not everyone’s favorite” and “challenge ourselves.” But when he said “”A Litany’ by William Walton,
“I LOVE THAT PIECE!” I said. Rather loudly.
“I do,” i said a little more sheepishly as I searched for it in my folder while the whole choir stopped to look at me.
I had sung it in Chamber Choir with First Church, Nashua, and honestly, I purchased a nice recording to use as my morning wake-up “alarm” during Lent. Here is a “nice” recording: https://youtu.be/M-F3MUtrs0E?si=AjD9QQbOYoZUXVYP
Susan, thanks for sharing that BEAUTIFUL piece of music! Watching the clip you sent, it reminded me of when I went to Choral Evensong at Cambridge (this one at King’s College) in early 2001, before 9/11 turned the whole world upside down and changed travel forever. I’m sure there must be many who also love this piece. As with so much else in our contemporary overabundance, there are just too many distractions and beautiful competitors to notice every individual bloom. But choirs everywhere are doing their bit to keep such music alive. I’m glad you are still singing!