To Thine Own God Self Be True

The Duffer and I used to debate about whether the advice Polonius gives to his son Laertes' in Shakespeare's Hamlet is to be taken at face value or whether S. was a bit tongue in cheeck. My father thought they were simply well articulated bits of wisdom: there was no subtext. End of argument. I believed, from the context of the play and the character of Polonius, that S. viewed the wisdom as many of us view such good advice: that and a token will get you on to the subway. Of course, I could see why this would be disheartening for a father who felt he had so much wisdom to pass on, but here's a post on "Shakespeare 101" that argues my point in case you are interested: http://shakespeareantheatre.suite101.com/article.cfm/polonius_speech_in_hamlet .

It is in this disputed speech that the lines "This above all: to thine own self be true, /And it must follow as the night the day/ Thou canst not then be false to any man" are spoken. And it is from this dubious wisdom that Rabbi Lerner of the Network of Spiritual Progressives derives his variation: "to thine own God self be true" (the phrase appears in an email sent out today, featuring a prayer of forgiveness for the 9/11 terrorist attacks).

There is some wisdom in this new turning of the phrase, thought it is awkward and unattractive. I am not averse to the idea that Christ is within me. (Col. 1:27). But reliance on doctored cliches reveals a sloppiness in thinking that concerns me, and makes me skeptical.

I don't know how I want to pray on this day. When I lay in shavasana at the end of this morning's yoga class and image came to my mind. The Palisades in Fort Lee, N.J.: the rocky stone cliffs just to the north of the George Washington Bridge. I am sitting there with a teenage girl I was friends with in high school. She has a black dog and a car: she is self-sufficient and cool. We walk up there and the bridge sparkles. Maybe that is the day I walk back and forth across the bridge, just for fun, for the airiness of it. This memory dates back to either 1974 or 5. The city for me then was like a geode, sparkling with art and music. I didn't yet know about the filth, the urine and how tired one gets when one is always inside it, and not on this promontory, looking out at its dazzling potential. The World Trade Towers would have been a recent addition to the skyline. We didn't particularly like them: the ornate stylings of the Chrysler and the Empire State Buildings were much more attractive. But all of those were distant spires from this northern end where we sat on rocks and thought about our limitless futures. As I came out of corpse pose, I remembered what day it was, and sent my mind downtown, to look at the rubble as it appeared the day I brought the Duffer to see it.