Wild Geese

May 20, 2011 Leave a Comment
 image from here
In all my talks of “good enough” and self-compassion, I stumbled upon this poem on another blog I read.
I read it first in my journal therapy training and I think the universe knew it was time for a re-read. Here goes: You do not have to be good.

You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.

You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.

Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.

Meanwhile the world goes on.

Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain are moving across thelandscapes, over the prairies and the deep trees, the mountains and therivers.

Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air, are heading home again.

Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese,
harsh and exciting -
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

“Wild Geese” by Mary Oliver
from Dream Work
published by Atlantic Monthly Press
© Mary Oliver

Ahhh….
over and over

announcing your place

in the family of things. 

Thank you…
Mary Oliver
fellow bloggers
universe
poetry
you make my day.
Filed Under: Writing Inspirations Tagged With: ,

Free Friday: Live so the poems can find you

February 18, 2011 Leave a Comment
On Monday I posted the poem “A Valentine for Ernest Mann” and soon realized the words had a strong connection to the meaning behind this blog…”to live in the moment and make it beautiful.”

If beauty can be found in two skunks, it can be found anywhere, right?
As Ernest said, “Nothing was ugly just because the world said so.”
The message behind the poem is the message I hope to convey in what I write in this very spot.

Beauty isn’t going to fall out of the sky and hit us across the head every day. 
Sometimes we have to go and find it. 
Sometimes “what we have to do is live in a way that lets us find (it)” as Naomi Shihab Nye writes.

Just as I have to mentally re-invent cleaning, and other mundane chores to make myself “want” to do them, “Maybe if we re-invent whatever our lives give us we find poems” (Nye).
“Making it beautiful” is all about taking what we have and finding a poem. 
Taking a commonplace job and making it a nut farm.

Taking a scratched up, dilapidated door and making it a pretty shade of green. 

Taking a moment full of tears, fear, and doubt and turning it into a moment of recognition, hope and LOVE. 
 AJH loves most everything she comes in contact with…
…Even skunks.
 (that’s a baby skunk she’s “loving” from her forest friends collection!)
In beautiful, serendipitous fashion, today I came across this post called “Live so the poems can find you” (guest post by Joanna Paterson) on Patti Digh’s blog, 37 Days.
I love it when that happens.
Here is how the author puts the phrase “live so the poems can find you” into practice:
“Spending as much time as possible outside
Taking photos.  I mean rather: taking photos with a mindset of wonder.

Making room for writing practice

Allowing what flows to be practice. Not perfect, not wholly formed.  Just practice

Sharing at least some of what comes out.  Poems do not like to be kept in boxes.

Letting the words tumble, and find their own rhythm

Noticing patterns, looking for connections

Listening to what people are saying (social media provides clue after clue)

Embracing beginner’s mind

Paying attention to the everyday.  There’s so much wonder to be

found there.Writing as part of the act of grieving

Listening to what the land, the water, the trees, the hills…are saying.

Listening to what my heart is saying: tears, laughter, whispers, songs, prayers, fire, softness

Passing it on: not being scared to share my work, not being scared to declare how beautiful the world is, passing on what I’ve learned about how it is possible to live, so the poems can find you.”

Happy Friday.
This weekend try to live so the poems can find you.
And don’t forget to LOVE.
 
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Free Friday: First Knowing

February 11, 2011 Leave a Comment
A friend sent this poem to me after reading my “I am still a mommy” post. I thought some other mommies may appreciate it, too. 
“First Knowing”
That second day of kindergarten, I ditched
while Miss Clemens bent at the sink,
helping Peter Farley wash the paint off his hands.
I scurried across the wide green fields that led
to the road where our row
of white townhouses awaited me.I wanted no more days without my mother
placed in the center of every hour.
I wanted her voice, the scent of the perfume
she dabbed on her wrist each morning
before we watched my father walk away.
We stood at her dresser while she released
the stopper from a crystal bottle so blue
it rivaled sunlight staining the ocean surface.

I wanted to travel with her
from supermarket, to bank, dry cleaners
to drugstore, wherever the days life took her.
As if sensing some hunger to come,
I craved her with a fierceness that made me run,
as if knowing I would soon lose her to a sadness
vaster than any of these fields I could cover
with the pace of my own feet.

~Andrea Potos

Love this: “I wanted no more days without my mother placed in the center of every hour.”
  
Love the weekend, which = countless hours to kiss those chubby cheeks.

Happy Friday!
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Make it Beautiful Monday: Find your poem

February 4, 2011 1 Comment
I can’t let today go by without sharing some Valentine love. First, this poem will make you smile and see skunks in a new light. The poem, journal prompts (and skunk) were all found in the “Poem of the Month” section of The Center for Journal Therapy website. I studied journal therapy with Kay Adams from the Center in Denver and recommend the training for those interested in using writing as healing.

A Valentine for Ernest Mann

You can’t order a poem like you order a taco.
Walk up to the counter, say, “I’ll take two”
and expect it to be handed back to you
on a shiny plate.
Still, I like your spirit.
Anyone who says, “Here’s my address,
write me a poem,” deserves something in reply.
So I’ll tell you a secret instead:
poems hide. In the bottoms of our shoes,
they are sleeping. They are the shadows
drifting across our ceilings the moment
before we wake up. What we have to do
is live in a way that lets us find them.
Once I knew a man who gave his wife
two skunks for a valentine.
He couldn’t understand why she was crying.
“I thought they had such beautiful eyes.”
And he was serious. He was a serious man
who lived in a serious way. Nothing was ugly
just because the world said so. He really
liked those skunks. So, he re-invented them
as valentines and they became beautiful.
At least, to him. And the poems that had been hiding
in the eyes of skunks for centuries
crawled out and curled up at his feet.
Maybe if we re-invent whatever our lives give us
we find poems. Check your garage, the odd sock
in your drawer, the person you almost like, but not quite.
And let me know.
–Naomi Shihab Nye
in The Red Suitcase, Brockport, NY: BOA Editions, 1994. 

Journal prompts:
  • Write about a memorable Valentine’s Day.
  • Write about an unusual gift you’ve given, or received.
  • Write about a time you reinvented something your life gave you.
  • Where do your poems hide?
*** 
Next, my Valentines and I shared a nice meal out on the town Friday night. 

AJ was a little preoccupied with the chips.

On the food front, I got a VEGAN burrito and it was actually quite tasty. The only things I missed  were the cheese and sour cream. I don’t think I’m quite ready to give up dairy yet unless I am completely convinced it is connected to the stomach pains I often get after eating. There were no stomach pains after the vegan burrito which leads me to believe that dairy may be part of the culprit. In that case, I’ve been reading Skinny Bitch: Ultimate Everyday Cookbook and hear there are some really AWFUL imitations, as well as some not some AWFUL ones I may want to consider. As annoying as the title is, the Skinny Bitch books are not really about how to achieve your own skinny bitchiness. If you’ve read any of them you know they are more about why one would consider being a vegetarian/vegan and the new one features what look to be some great recipes. I’ll let ya know how it goes…
Friday night BRH wore his old cologne from college which sent us into reminisce mode  on those early moments when we met and fell in love. He remembered walking me home in the rain from the famous “Coach B’s,” and I rememberd him giving me his red L.L. Bean fleece. I still remember what I was wearing on the nervous drive to return the jacket a few days later (borrowed lilac colored shirt, light jeans and brown boots with freshly cut, perfectly blow dried hair, and  a fake tan). The funniest part of the story is when I got there and held out the fleece, it was about four sizes too small. I promised him I hadn’t shrunk it and soon realized my 5’2, 100 pound hallmate also owned a red, L.L. Bean fleece. Ooops. It was just another reason for us to meet again. And again, and again.

 our first date
Today marks our 6 1/2 year wedding anniversary and over 10 years of being together. He gave AJH and me the sweetest cards this morning which pretty much reiterated the feeling that all of our college dreams of white farmhouses and blond babies… 
…have come true.
*** 
For now my poems can be found in these faces…
…these moments of complete peace.
***
Happy Valentine’s Day!
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Tools and Topics Tuesday: Winter Solstice

December 22, 2010 Leave a Comment
Read this pretty winter poem and see what lines speak to you.  Even if a poem makes no sense to me, I always try to find a few lines that are inspiring in some way, and take whatever I can from them. I saw this poem on The Writer’s Almanac and agree that it was quite fitting for the winter solstice. 
“They look at us
With their clear eyes…
 …And ask the piercing questions
God alone can answer.”

Noël

by Anne Porter

When snow is shaken
From the balsam trees
And they’re cut down
And brought into our houses

When clustered sparks
Of many-colored fire
Appear at night
In ordinary windows

We hear and sing
The customary carols

They bring us ragged miracles
And hay and candles
And flowering weeds of poetry
That are loved all the more
Because they are so common

But there are carols
That carry phrases
Of the haunting music
Of the other world
A music wild and dangerous
As a prophet’s message

Or the fresh truth of children
Who though they come to us
From our own bodies

Are altogether new
With their small limbs
And birdlike voices

They look at us
With their clear eyes
And ask the piercing questions
God alone can answer.

“Noël” by Anne Porter, from Living Things. © Zoland Books, 2006. Reprinted with permission on The Writer’s Almanac with Garrison Keillor (buy now).  
What are your ragged miracles? 
What are your piercing questions?
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Praise Song 2010

November 23, 2010 Leave a Comment
*In Thanksgiving spirit, I’m reposting one of my favorite writing activities: the Praise Song. I encourage you to create your own Praise Poems and share!

I read this poem a few years ago for my Journal Therapy class and was very inspired.

Praise Song

Paise the light of late November,
the thin sunlight that goes deep in the bones.
Praise the crows chattering in the oak trees;
though they are clothed in night, they do not
despair. Praise what little there’s left:
the small boats of milkweed pods, husks, hulls,
shells, the architecture of trees. Praise the meadow
of dried weeds: yarrow, goldenrod, chicory,
the remains of summer. Praise the blue sky
that hasn’t cracked yet. Praise the sun slipping down
behind the beechnuts, praise the quilt of leaves
that covers the grass: Scarlet Oak, Sweet Gum,
Sugar Maple. Though darkness gathers, praise our crazy
fallen world; it’s all we have, and it’s never enough.

- Barbara Crooker
(Abalone Moon, Summer 2004)

I was pushed by the last line to think that if this “crazy fallen world” is never enough, then what is?

Read here for more inspiration:

Write your own praise song

My Praise Song in November

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Write Your Own Praise Song

November 20, 2009 1 Comment

With Thanksgiving right around the corner, this is a great time to reflect on the things you are thankful for and honor them in a “song.” Here are some guidelines:

1. Choose 5-10 things that you are thankful for this year.

2. Now, write a poem or “song” to “honor” these things on Thanksgiving.

3. Set up each stanza of your poem using the following structure. Each stanza will have 6 lines, and your poem should have between 5-10 stanzas—one for each thing you are thankful for.

Line 1. Praise my mom who works her fingers to the bone___________________ (Write what you are praising)

Line 2. Who loves me unconditionally (Describe what you are praising)

Line 3. Who/That (is) is the best cook ever ____________________ (Describe what you are praising)

Line 4. Who/That (is) ____________________ (Describe what you are praising)

Line 5. Praise the little girl ____________________ (Repeat what you are praising in a new way)

Line 6. He/She/It is ____________________ (Summarize what it means to you)

4. In the first line of the stanza you will write what you are thankful for. In the following three lines you will describe that person, place, thing, or idea. Then, in the fourth line you will repeat what you are praising. Finally, in the fifth line you will summarize what they (or it) mean to you.

5. Use similes, metaphors, and descriptive language to describe each thing that you are thankful for. You can also describe what the object does, or says to make you appreciate it so much.

6. One idea for your praise song is to write one stanza for each person in your family. You can read this poem to them for Thanksgiving, showing them how much you appreciate everything they do for you.

Examples using people, places, and animals.

Praise the little girl who uncovered beauty and hope in our lives
Who amazes us with her youth, her grace
Whose pureness overflows and ties a knot in our hearts
Who has wings that we do not see
Praise Natalie
She is an angel in disguise.

Praise the enchanting city of Venice, Italy
Where the sun ignites your heart and warms your bones
Where mystical waters flood the streets with each full moon
Where young couples mingle effortlessly on the cobblestone
Praise Venice
It is my heaven on earth.

Praise Shiner
Who taught us how to love unconditionally
Who helped to make a house a home
Who still needs us when we are tired or sad
Praise Shiner
He is our protector.

Praise Song by Barbara Crooker
My Praise Song in November
 


Filed Under: Jounaling Tools + Topics, Writing Inspirations Tagged With: ,

Praise Song

November 20, 2009 Leave a Comment
I read this poem a few years ago for my Journal Therapy class and was very inspired.

Praise Song

Praise the light of late November,
the thin sunlight that goes deep in the bones.
Praise the crows chattering in the oak trees;
though they are clothed in night, they do not
despair. Praise what little there’s left:
the small boats of milkweed pods, husks, hulls,
shells, the architecture of trees. Praise the meadow
of dried weeds: yarrow, goldenrod, chicory,
the remains of summer. Praise the blue sky
that hasn’t cracked yet. Praise the sun slipping down
behind the beechnuts, praise the quilt of leaves
that covers the grass: Scarlet Oak, Sweet Gum,
Sugar Maple. Though darkness gathers, praise our crazy
fallen world; it’s all we have, and it’s never enough.

- Barbara Crooker

I was pushed by the last line to think that if this “crazy fallen world” is never enough, then what is?

Write your own praise song
My Praise Song in November

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My Praise Song in November

November 20, 2009 1 Comment

I wrote this poem a few Thanksgivings ago after reading “Praise Song” by Barbara Crooker.

“…praise our crazy/fallen world; it’s all we have, and it’s never enough.”

-Barbara Crooker
Praise the husband who is my home

Who says I’m amazing, when I think I’m awful
Who is my best friend, my sanity, my safe haven
Who is meant to complete me

He is enough

Praise the sister whose compassionate heart longs to help someone, despite her own pain
Who makes me want more
Whose innocence burns into us
Whose soul is magnetic

She is enough

Praise the brother whose presence carries us unknowingly
Who calms the thunder around him
Who is quiet yet reverent
Whose blood is my blood

He is enough

Praise the little girl who uncovered beauty and hope in our lives
Who amazes us with her youth, her grace
Whose pureness overflows and ties a knot in our hearts
Who has wings that we do not see

She is enough

Praise the father who has offered everything to be our backbone
Who gives us his word when he can’t give us the world
Who protects his family, encircling them with his heavy hold
Whose childlike spirit can’t be hidden by rough hands or tired eyes

He is enough

Praise the mother who calls her children “her one and only masterpiece”
Who bears my burden
Whose talent will be known
Whose strength is still needed

She is enough

Praise the moment that we realize
This is all that we have and
It is all enough.

Write your own praise song


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Taking Root

September 21, 2009 1 Comment
This is the poem I wrote and read at Katie Harmon and Joe Crabtree’s wedding on 9/19/09.
Taking Root
Beginnings were planted
unsure if they would thrive in their chosen spots.
An eternity was spent
wondering how they would grow
what colors would adorn them
what blossoms would appear
what pair they would eventually complete.
And with little patience and lots or prayer
they took root.
Through heavy winds and pouring rains
the roots grew stronger
attaching themselves deeper into the ground
finding comfort in their home.
Soon enough, their seedlings became
something beautiful and unexpected.
And today
they have reached their highest peak.
Branches outstretched to the sky
their roots steadied them and
pushed them upward from where they began.
Mingling leaves became
entangled rots
forming one solid tree
a unified lifeline
thriving together
never to be broken.
Though leaves may fall
crumble or die
they will be gathered again
used for joy.
They will return fuller
in verdant shades of green
and bring new life
lush with love.
Taking comfort in their old roots
they now take root together–
and their roots will run deep.
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