It was a simple statement of fact.
“You’re going to cry,” my wife said, hinting at the holiday gift she had for me.
I opened it on Christmas morning, and yes, I cried. But my tears were more about what I had experienced in that moment, not only about the thoughtful giving of this gift.
The gift is a plaque she had made for our home garden near the writing shed. It’s a quote from the preacher/poet in Dylan Thomas’ play for voices Under Milk Wood.
“We are not wholly bad or good who live our lives under milk wood.”
The play is based around a fictional town called Llareggub, or “bugger-all” spelled backward, slang for nothing at all. Many believe the town is based on the village of Laugharne, Wales where Dylan lived the last years of his life. Under Milk Wood has influenced many artists, writers like Terry Pratchett and James Salter. It has influenced Ray Davies of The Kinks, Frank Zappa, and Paul McCartney has said Under Milk Wood was part of the inspiration for “Penny Lane.” This makes sense, as the play is about the town’s eccentric inhabitants and the beautiful and meaningful community those characters have created, their interconnectedness. The quote on the plaque recognizes the goodness in people, the warmth of friendship, family, and community. Just like “Penny Lane.”
Aware of this as I opened the gift and shed the tears, I instantly experienced a moment of Satori, the indescribable sudden intuitive realization that we are all joined in the universe, intrinsically intertwined. The concept is not new, but its sudden re-emergence, the reawakening was new for me.
Milkwood trees are hardy and slow growing. They have deep green leaves and rough bark, and they rarely grow straight, instead producing a sprawling structure of branches, creating a kind of shelter. A place of wonder. A place where our connective tissues thrive. The theme of Thomas’ play and exactly the experience of Satori.
If we understand the interconnectedness of all things, we can rise beyond the duality of what is simply right and wrong—above only the black or white, the good or bad, as the preacher/poet suggested—and come to a state of peace, understanding, and compassion—the key experience of Satori.
The Zen Buddhists say that Satori comes mostly after a long period of concentration or meditation, but then is delivered in an instant, like in the very moment I opened the gift. The long period of concentration, I would suggest, has been the seeking and searching nature of my being. I am always seeking but rarely finding. And that’s perfectly fine, as the searching is what allows the act of living to be far more than simple existence and instead is the ongoing discovery of one’s true nature.
The gift, the quote, and the timing of it all has produced a reawakening, a new sense of who I am today. Not what I have been. The past has influenced and shaped me, yes, but the past is not me. I am who I am now and what I hope to be tomorrow, merged by a reawakened connectedness. The theme of Under Milk Wood and the core concept of Satori.
Although we sometimes believe that anything profound has to come to us like a bolt of lightning, the truth is, it rarely does. It instead arrives like the dawn. The red, blue, and orange light of the pre-sunrise prepares the horizon for the sun’s sudden release, that first pop of golden light, a moment of Satori, the flash of a new day, a new awakening for those “who live our lives under milk wood.”
David W. Berner is the author of several award-winning books of fiction and memoir. His latest novella, The Islander has been awarded the top prize for literary fiction by the National Association of Independent Writers and Editors, 2023.
Deep and peaceful.
And a happy new year back to you.