{"id":11908,"date":"2025-11-16T19:26:50","date_gmt":"2025-11-16T23:26:50","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/parmaks.com\/Resources\/artist-and-poet-rachel-heberts-breathtaking-catalogue-of-gratitudes-the-marginalian\/"},"modified":"2025-11-16T19:26:50","modified_gmt":"2025-11-16T23:26:50","slug":"artist-and-poet-rachel-heberts-breathtaking-catalogue-of-gratitudes-the-marginalian","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/parmaks.com\/Resources\/artist-and-poet-rachel-heberts-breathtaking-catalogue-of-gratitudes-the-marginalian\/","title":{"rendered":"Artist and Poet Rachel H\u00e9bert\u2019s Breathtaking Catalogue of Gratitudes \u2013 The Marginalian"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"Profit<\/a>
\n<\/p>\n

\n

Here we are, living these lives bright and perishable as a poppy, hard and shimmering as obsidian. We know that they are entirely improbable<\/a>, that we bless that bright improbability<\/a> with each flash of gratitude for it all, that if we pay attention closely and generously enough we are always repaid in gladness, that it is the handle of the door to the world. And yet over and over we choose to live in the cage of complaint, too preoccupied with how the will of life betrayed our wishes, the wanting monster<\/a> always growling in the other corner of the cage. <\/p>\n

Imagine parting the bars and stepping out. Imagine waking up with a rush of gladness at everything we were never promised but got anyway \u2014 trees and music, clouds and consciousness, the cobalt eye of the scallop<\/a>, the golden fan of the gingko<\/a>, the alabaster chandelier of the ghost pipe<\/a>. <\/p>\n

In our age of competitive prostration, this is a headstand hard to hold for long. But it is trainable. It is possible to become strong enough to be tender, it is. <\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Artist and poet Rachel H\u00e9bert offers a bright patch of training ground in The Book of Thanks: A Catalogue of Gratitudes<\/em><\/strong><\/a> \u2014 one of the most miraculous books I have ever encountered, trembling with tenacious tenderness for the bewilderment of being alive. <\/p>\n

Radiating from the pages is an invitation, extended in paintings and poems, to open \u201cthe sunlit fort of your attention\u201d and let the world rush in, in all its minute and majestic loveliness: stalactites and Spanish moss, spiderwebs and skylights, snow and the call of the snowy owl, the heart\u2019s capacity for \u201can urgent, flashing, interrupting kind of love.\u201d <\/p>\n

What emerges is prayerful (\u201cmore cellos, touch, and rain, please\u201d) and singing with praise (\u201croots gripping, canyon carved, spine woven of baleen a thousand years old\u201d) \u2014 a manual for how to live in gratitude (\u201cwhat is working wants your praise\u201d) and a theological statement (\u201cthere is nothing you must do to belong\u201d).<\/p>\n

A taste:<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

\n

What do we say to longing?<\/p>\n

If you have sat in the chill
of early morning bleakness<\/p>\n

and watched as the deep blue
sighed and blushed, touched<\/p>\n

by the warm curve of dawn
and pinker than pink then<\/p>\n

apricot soft and spreading its
glow, you know. You know.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

\n

How
\u2014 in this dim parade of brutality \u2014
might all be well?<\/p>\n

But if we trouble it with light,
train our sights on
the rebellious good,<\/p>\n

and work
to make it
truer.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

\n

Beneath the face
of the water,
wonder.<\/p>\n

In dark woods,
a gate.<\/p>\n

In the chapter
called lostness,
a friend.<\/p>\n

All the help
we could not
yet see.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

\n

It cannot be always comfortable.
So love the thousand knives as they enter
and see your shape still sitting.<\/p>\n

See that you too belong to paws
of soft silent hungers, to thirst-tangled
roots, to silver-spun constellations.<\/p>\n

Know you\u2019re no sicker than the rest of us.
The big secret is this: No one else can brave you.
Messy, yes. And marvelous.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

\n

What is more than we see
in this world we\u2019re pressed into,
its blistered barking noise?<\/p>\n

For what we build, speak, and ruin \u2014
our efforts, our angers.<\/p>\n

For music.<\/p>\n

For wings.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n<\/p><\/div>\n

\"Profit<\/a>
<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Here we are, living these lives bright and perishable as a poppy, hard and shimmering as obsidian. We know that they are entirely improbable, that […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":11909,"comment_status":"","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[18],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-11908","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-purpose"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/parmaks.com\/Resources\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/11908","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/parmaks.com\/Resources\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/parmaks.com\/Resources\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/parmaks.com\/Resources\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/parmaks.com\/Resources\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=11908"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/parmaks.com\/Resources\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/11908\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/parmaks.com\/Resources\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/11909"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/parmaks.com\/Resources\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=11908"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/parmaks.com\/Resources\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=11908"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/parmaks.com\/Resources\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=11908"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}