May Sarton

from The House by the Sea: A Journal (W. W. Norton, 1977):

Thursday, May 13^th, 1976

…I opened to this in Jung this morning: “From the middle of life onward, only he remains vitally alive who is ready to die with life.” I wonder if, for me, that means admitting that poetry came from a different segment and is no longer possible. Yet sometimes I feel I am on the brink, that a nearly imperceptible and quite unconscious shift is taking place that will open that door again. It is certainly true that a part of me that was too clenched toward achievement is opening like a clenched hand. This month I am “being” rather than “doing”—”doing” on the level of work, writing at least. There is almost too much plany to be dealth with, if by “play” I mean the garden. But what a lovely day! I am brimful of joy.

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