“One Art” (Elizabeth Bishop)

“The art of losing isn’t hard to master,” at least, according to my favorite poem by my favorite poet. “One Art” has been my favorite poem for about twenty years now. I discovered it when I was twentyish, or even a little younger, back before I’d learned the “art of losing.” At that point I hadn’t lost anything yet—I didn’t have much to lose—and I’m not sure now what drew me to these lines. But I think that’s what great writing does sometimes; it seeps into your mind and changes you (or prepares you) when you aren’t paying attention.

“Then practice losing farther, losing faster.” None of us gets through life without losing some things. The trick is to become an expert at losing; then it won’t bother you so much. Sometimes losing brings freedom. I learned this the hard way when I got cancer. In only a few months I lost my health, my apartment, my ability to support myself, my sense of security, my assumption that I would still be alive the following year. I was very aware of having lost quite a lot. Strangely, though, I didn’t feel as if I’d lost; I felt free. I’d lost far and fast, and it wasn’t a disaster.

There’s always a catch though, isn’t there? After tripping along through line after line of minor and major losses, the poem takes a sudden turn:

“—Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love)…”

I read these lines and feel that old familiar catch in my throat, and I remember that sometimes the pain of one particular loss will linger, no matter how many years it’s been or how practiced you are at losing. On some days, some losses still feel like disaster.

(Read the complete poem at Poets.org.)