I enjoyed your reflection on the counterbalance and coexistence of lament and hope. I generally operate from a place of great hope that compels action, and I descend into the upside-down when the crumbling of the world feels paralyzing.
I emerge when I once again take action, however small, to refuel my hope through connection with others who help me assemble the pieces to rebuild.
I just read this post, and it is all so resonant with me.I recently heard an interview with the Zen monk, Koshin Paley Ellison, and he spoke about allowing the heart to break, and he also talked about how the sacred lives in tenderness. I love how both your poem and Rosemerry Trommer’s poem nudge us closer to the tenderness in our own hearts, to the human heart. It can feel so uncomfortable to be there in the tenderness ...but I’m realizing more how tenderness is a type of discomfort that almost always leads to more love and connection even when the darkness and waiting feel interminable. ❤️
Was the interview with Danusha Lameris? Are you taking that course too? 😊 I loved that conversation. Parker Palmer speaks of this also- that our hearts must break and sometimes this allows us to be more receptive. Lisa Olivera wrote her Sunday post on tenderness. It was beautiful. I’m so glad so much resonated with you. Thanks for being here Claire.
Your poem is lovely, that state of worry and uncertainty that sometimes pervades parenthood. Stranger Things was a show that my husband, 19yo son on a gap year and I watched together. It helped to bridge the gap that forms as children begin their separation from the family to venture out into the world. There’s been nothing but silence for the past month from our son, now 22 and in his senior year of college. No thumbs up or heart emojis in response to the texts I send...snippets of life, our pets being adorable, beauties of nature photographed on our daily walks...my attempts to connect while avoiding pressing questions. Maybe I’ll try my hand at writing a poem to describe how this lack of communication feels. He’s growing and changing and I need to find ways to grow too. 💜
Oh Sherri, thank you for sharing your story and allowing us to be in communion with you. Kids growing up is so hard and the times when they feel far from us are painful. I think you should write that poem. I would love to read it. I love that you also recognize that you might need new ways to grow too. You are a wise woman.
I am lamenting dehumanization and fear and desperation and death and helplessness.
When I start feeling the drop into the upside-down, it helps to read words like yours and those of the the Palestinian chairman of PCFF. Being reminded that people care and want peace; the reminder that we have a “sacred responsibility to create as much beauty as possible,” as you quoted your friend Andrea saying; and feeling connection with other human beings are a way out of the darkness and helplessness and into a world where I can search for ways to contribute. Thank you.
Thank you so much for reading and commenting here. I am so grateful for your beautiful poems which have a way of finding me right when I need them. I love the word communion used in this way.
Especially loving this: "She says it is really important to say who we are every day, and it occurs to me that another reason why this is so important is that because sometimes when we are stuck in the upside-down, we forget who we are."
Love the idea of tending to things. For me, I've been thinking a lot about curating, which etymologically comes from to heal and cure, to take care of things ... I like to curate as a means to build and support my community. I think this is a big part of who I am.
Thanks for letting me piggy back off your beautiful post and for reminding me that we help others grow stronger when we are vulnerable. I’m so glad you loved the poem.
This is an amazing powerful piece. I want to print this and read it often.
It resonated with me in a deep level and is a light to moving forward through all the hate ans killing in our world.
Thank you for this piece!!!! Well done!!
I enjoyed your reflection on the counterbalance and coexistence of lament and hope. I generally operate from a place of great hope that compels action, and I descend into the upside-down when the crumbling of the world feels paralyzing.
I emerge when I once again take action, however small, to refuel my hope through connection with others who help me assemble the pieces to rebuild.
This is beautiful. Thanks for sharing Vanessa. I agree that those acts, however small, are so important.
beautiful. thank you for sharing your heart, thank you for sharing your poem.❤️🔥
Thanks kenzi. Thanks for reading and being in this space.
Beautiful.
Thanks Kim!
I just read this post, and it is all so resonant with me.I recently heard an interview with the Zen monk, Koshin Paley Ellison, and he spoke about allowing the heart to break, and he also talked about how the sacred lives in tenderness. I love how both your poem and Rosemerry Trommer’s poem nudge us closer to the tenderness in our own hearts, to the human heart. It can feel so uncomfortable to be there in the tenderness ...but I’m realizing more how tenderness is a type of discomfort that almost always leads to more love and connection even when the darkness and waiting feel interminable. ❤️
Was the interview with Danusha Lameris? Are you taking that course too? 😊 I loved that conversation. Parker Palmer speaks of this also- that our hearts must break and sometimes this allows us to be more receptive. Lisa Olivera wrote her Sunday post on tenderness. It was beautiful. I’m so glad so much resonated with you. Thanks for being here Claire.
Yes to all of this. Thank you, Mary.
❤️ Thanks for reading Julie. I’m glad it resonated.
Your poem is lovely, that state of worry and uncertainty that sometimes pervades parenthood. Stranger Things was a show that my husband, 19yo son on a gap year and I watched together. It helped to bridge the gap that forms as children begin their separation from the family to venture out into the world. There’s been nothing but silence for the past month from our son, now 22 and in his senior year of college. No thumbs up or heart emojis in response to the texts I send...snippets of life, our pets being adorable, beauties of nature photographed on our daily walks...my attempts to connect while avoiding pressing questions. Maybe I’ll try my hand at writing a poem to describe how this lack of communication feels. He’s growing and changing and I need to find ways to grow too. 💜
Oh Sherri, thank you for sharing your story and allowing us to be in communion with you. Kids growing up is so hard and the times when they feel far from us are painful. I think you should write that poem. I would love to read it. I love that you also recognize that you might need new ways to grow too. You are a wise woman.
I am lamenting dehumanization and fear and desperation and death and helplessness.
When I start feeling the drop into the upside-down, it helps to read words like yours and those of the the Palestinian chairman of PCFF. Being reminded that people care and want peace; the reminder that we have a “sacred responsibility to create as much beauty as possible,” as you quoted your friend Andrea saying; and feeling connection with other human beings are a way out of the darkness and helplessness and into a world where I can search for ways to contribute. Thank you.
Thank you Marie for sharing and for being here.
what a beautiful poem, Mary--oh, this finding ourselves in communion with all the other mothers who are still waiting, who are always waiting.
Thank you so much for reading and commenting here. I am so grateful for your beautiful poems which have a way of finding me right when I need them. I love the word communion used in this way.
So beautiful. All of it. So full and rich.
Especially loving this: "She says it is really important to say who we are every day, and it occurs to me that another reason why this is so important is that because sometimes when we are stuck in the upside-down, we forget who we are."
Love the idea of tending to things. For me, I've been thinking a lot about curating, which etymologically comes from to heal and cure, to take care of things ... I like to curate as a means to build and support my community. I think this is a big part of who I am.
Thanks Kathryn! Thanks for teaching me about curating. It reminds me too of how important it is to work from our gifts.
This is a beautiful post, and I love your poem.
Thanks for letting me piggy back off your beautiful post and for reminding me that we help others grow stronger when we are vulnerable. I’m so glad you loved the poem.
Omg Mary your poem 🥹🥹🥹 it’s so beautiful
Ahhh!! Thank you! I was happy with it.