How to be courageous, especially in the face of loss or pain
How to be courageous, especially in the face of loss or pain
Guest Post by Susan Cain, author of Quiet, and a reflection on the marvelous poetry of Constantine Cavafy
Gracious reader,
In this issue of Civic Renaissance, we explore:
A note from Lexi
Civic Renaissance Retreat: Would You Join Us?
Thank you to wonderful Susan Cain for being our guest writer this week!
The Soul of Civility in the news: Discover how the small Colorado ski town of Estes Park is prioritizing civility this fall.
A year ago in Civic Renaissance
Review The Soul of Civility?
A note from Lexi
I first encountered Susan Cain—renowned author of the introvert’s manifesto, Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can't Stop Talking—when I noticed her gracious endorsement of my friend Emily Esfahani Smith’s book, The Power of Meaning, back in 2017.
After I got a book deal of my own in 2020, I found myself invited to a secret society of writers, of which Susan was a part. I was honored to be learning and growing alongside her and other luminaries. I contacted her personally after my book came out, asking if I might send her a copy—and seeking her advice about being a mother with young children while trying to navigate the challenges of having a creative life and vocational passions.
She was generous with her time on our phone call—sharing how my fifty-city, five-country book tour reminded her of the whirlwind following the publication of Quiet.
Since then, she has become a wonderful friend and mentor, even inviting me to share about The Soul of Civility—specifically on why being civil requires saying ‘no’—with her lovely community of readers, The Quiet Life, which you can learn more about below.
I hope you enjoy reading and learning from Susan as much as I do and have!
How to be courageous, especially in the face of loss or pain
By Susan Cain
Susan is the author of the #1 New York Times bestselling books Quiet and Bittersweet, and an award-winning speaker. For over twenty years, she has explored the quiet, sensitive, and bittersweet sides of human nature, believing they lead to a deeper, more meaningful happiness—though often out of step with a noisy, fast-paced world.
She prefers listening to speaking, reading to socializing, and intimate chats to group settings. Her favorite activities include reading, writing, and relaxing in cafés, and she’s recently taken up tennis. Endlessly curious about human nature, she treasures moments when a writer or artist captures unspoken feelings with beautiful clarity.
Dear Friend,
When our second son was born, I was planning an epidural, as I’d had with our firstborn. But he came too fast. We only barely made it to the hospital for his arrival, and there was no time for anesthesia. I wasn’t prepared for this situation: I didn’t know the right breathing exercises, and I was giving birth in an NYC teaching hospital, which is the opposite of a place designed to ease you through a natural birth.
Instead of accepting this situation, I kept hoping that they could figure out how to give me an epidural anyway. I could see increasingly that it wasn’t going to happen, but I denied this reality. And how did I react to the labor pain, when it came, seeming to split my body in two? I screamed bloody murder, so much so that doctors from all over the hospital came running to see what the matter was. I’m a quiet person. I didn’t know my lungs could make that much noise.
Our baby came out perfect and happy – and, incidentally, “in the caul” (meaning that the amniotic sac was still intact around him, which is a one-in-a-million type of birth traditionally seen as a sign of good fortune and spiritual blessing)!
And why do I tell you all this? Because I met that moment in a resisting, defensive crouch – which was, yes, a totally normal reaction to the unexpected onset of terrible pain. But still. I think that next time I’m faced with impending pain or loss I could use, and maybe you could too, the spirit of this marvelous poem by the great Greek poet Constantine Cavafy, whom I’ve only just discovered and have promptly fallen in love with. I posted this one on my social channels this week, and so many people reacted to it and asked what it was about that I thought I’d take a crack at that, here.
So here’s Cavafy’s marvel of a poem. After you’ve read it, I’ll give you my interpretation:
The God Abandons Antony (1911)
When suddenly, at midnight, you hear
an invisible procession going by
with exquisite music, voices,
don’t mourn your luck that’s failing now,
work gone wrong, your plans
all proving deceptive—don’t mourn them uselessly.
As one long prepared, and graced with courage,
say goodbye to her, the Alexandria that is leaving.
Above all, don’t fool yourself, don’t say
it was a dream, your ears deceived you:
don’t degrade yourself with empty hopes like these.
As one long prepared, and graced with courage,
as is right for you who proved worthy of this kind of city,
go firmly to the window
and listen with deep emotion, but not
with the whining, the pleas of a coward;
listen—your final delectation—to the voices,
to the exquisite music of that strange procession,
and say goodbye to her, to the Alexandria you are losing.
- Constantine Cavafy
You probably have goosebumps, even if you're not sure what you just read. Right?
Here's my interpretation:
So first of all, Cavafy often wrote about ancient history and literature. Here, “Antony’’ is the Roman general Marcus Antonius; “Alexandria” probably refers to both the city and to Antony’s lover, Cleopatra; and the forsaking God is Bacchus. Cavafy was likely drawing on the classical Greek biographer and philosopher, Plutarch, who wrote that Bacchus abandoned Antony the night before Alexandria was conquered.
But what’s the poem SAYING? I believe it’s this: that Antony knew what was going to happen, before it happened; that he could see his enemies coming in a glorious, musical procession, the night before his defeat.
And the voice of the poet is telling him: don’t delude yourself, don’t tell yourself that you didn’t see what you saw, that you didn’t hear what you heard: loss is coming. You who has been “long prepared, and graced with courage,” should meet this moment as you – and as the moment itself -- deserves. You should “go firmly to the window and listen with deep emotion” to the “exquisite music of that strange procession” that is coming to replace you. And you should say goodbye.
We can also read Antony’s impending loss as our own, because loss xz`will come to all of us at some point. And instead of denying it, instead of pleading with it not to happen, we could try to gather our own courage, and say our own goodbyes -- as and when we need to. And for those of us who aren't gifted with courage, as Antony was - we could substitute the word "acceptance".
Because one of the most mysterious aspects of this poem is why it should be that the enemies coming to defeat Antony should be so exquisite, so endowed with music. Aren’t enemies supposed to be hideous, aren’t they without redeeming qualities?
I think that here Cavafy’s nodding at the way that everything gives way to something else: nations, seasons, humans – we all move through the mystifying cycle of births, deaths and rebirths. Summer doesn’t want to give way to autumn, but autumn is beautiful too. It has its own exquisite music.
So the proper way to live is with grace and acceptance.
And to stand at the window, and listen.
*P.S. Another awe-inspiring detail of this poem is that Cavafy was inspired to write it by Plutarch, and then Leonard Cohen took the Cavafy and produced his own masterpiece of a song, “Alexandra Leaving.” So Cavafy lives on through Cohen, and Plutarch through Cavafy. I love it when artists pay homage to each other, across the centuries.
Connect with Susan and find out more about her work:
Books by Susan- Quiet and Bittersweet
Invitation:
Civic Renaissance Retreat: Would You Join Us?
Would you be interested in joining us for a Civic Renaissance retreat and conference on civility in 2025 in Indianapolis?
This retreat and conference is envisioned as a unique opportunity to gather and discuss how we can all flourish despite our differences. We’ll explore ways to bring these ideas back to our own communities to help them thrive amidst division.
During the event, we will:
Gain a deeper understanding of the roots of our current challenges and explore solutions that promote civility.
Develop emotional intelligence and relational skills to enhance conversations and relationships in all areas of life.
Learn practical strategies for creating and sustaining a civility community.
Write to me with your interest and ideas at ahudsonassist@gmail.com
In the news:
So thankful to hear how my book, The Soul of Civility: Timeless Principles to Heal Society and Ourselves, continues to empower local leaders to cultivate civility in their communities. Discover how the small Colorado ski town of Estes Park is prioritizing civility this fall.
Why Freedom Needs Manners- Thank you, Greg Collins, for this eminently thoughtful review of my book!
Blue Sky Podcast- Author Alexandra Hudson on Her Book, The Soul of Civility: Timeless Principles to Heal Society and Ourselves
Interintellect- Watch an inspiring conversation between Lexi and Sean Hughes on the urgent issue of civility in our modern world
TIME Magazine— What Emily Post and Daniel of Beccles Can Teach Us About Civility Today
Civility is our eternal project- review of the soul of civility by the George W. Bush Center
Thank you for being part of our Civic Renaissance community!
A Year Ago on Civic Renaissance:
It's time to "unbundle" people
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