08/26/2026
Voice of the Village
An Odyssey
by Judy Furlong
With all the hoopla around the opening of “The Odyssey,” I had the motivation to revisit my favorite poem, “Ulysses,” by Lord Tennyson. I have loved this poem for 50 years, and now find myself relating to its content even more strongly. I strongly urge everyone to look it up and read it in its entirety.
The poem finds Ulysses, now well along in years, looking at his life through the prism of his past, all the adventures, the people met along the way, the sense of frustration at being sidelined and left with nothing to do but “Mete unequal laws unto a savage race, That hoard, and sleep, and feed, and know not me.”
He was a true hero, a man whose fame has remained even to this day and age. He yearns for movement, challenge, but seems to accept his fate; to be sedentary and able to see his son succeeding him with nothing on his schedule for the present. How often do we think of our past, more active days? How often do we yearn for the times when we could just pack it up and take off? I know I do!
Yet, so many of us do just as our hero does; we set out to seek and find, to grow into an older age, full of enthusiasm and purpose. Our bodies might groan sometimes; I know mine does, but off we go, either physically or intellectually.
It has paid off for me. In the past five years, I have had some new adventures and revisited some old ones. Three trips to Poland (a brand, new destination) following my daughter as she pulled and pushed me around Europe! Visiting my old haunt on the reservation, seeing the changes and celebrating my contributions there. Like our hero, not happy with just sitting around.
Here are some verses from “Ulysses.” Please read them and ask yourself, “Am I here? Am I like this man who refuses to give up, who intends “To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.” I am here, I tell myself; I am alive and I am ready!
Ulysses
It little profits that an idle king,
By this still hearth, among these barren crags,
Matched with an agèd wife, I mete and dole
Unequal laws unto a savage race,
That hoard, and sleep, and feed, and know not me.
I cannot rest from travel; I will drink
life to the lees: All times I have enjoyed
Greatly, have suffered greatly, both with those
That loved me, and alone on shore, and when
Through scudding drifts the rainy Hyades
Vexed the dim sea:
I am become a name;
For always roaming with a hungry heart;
Much have I seen and known
I am part of all that I have met…
How dull it is to pause, to make an end,
To rust unburnished, not to shine in use!
There lies the port: the vessel puffs her sail:
There gloom the dark broad seas. Free hearts, free foreheads – you and I are old…
Old age hath yet his honour and his toil;
'Tis not too late to seek a newer world.
Push off, and sitting well in order smite
the sounding furrows; for my purpose holds
To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths
Of all the western stars, until I die…
Though much is taken, much abides; and though
We are not now that strength which in old days
Moved earth and heaven; that which we are, we are;
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.
Judy Furlong
Carquinez Village
