A Poem for New Beginnings

Sunrise this morning

At the beginning of our Bloom True workshop, 

Flora read aloud the following poem by John O'Donahue, 

and gave each of us a copy. 

It spoke deeply to my heart.

 

To new beginnings, and work-in-progress

More of this morning's sunrise

If - by Rudyard Kipling

This poem speaks of life's disappointments, setbacks, betrayals, heartbreak, slander - and some of the virtues which can help us to survive them with our hearts intact, moment by moment.

If— By Rudyard Kipling

If you can keep your head when all about you   

    Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,   

If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,

    But make allowance for their doubting too;   

If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,

    Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,

Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,

    And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;   

    If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;   

If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster

    And treat those two impostors just the same;   

If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken

    Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,

Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,

    And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings

    And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,

And lose, and start again at your beginnings

    And never breathe a word about your loss;

If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew

    To serve your turn long after they are gone,   

And so hold on when there is nothing in you

    Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,   

    Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,

If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,

    If all men count with you, but none too much;

If you can fill the unforgiving minute

    With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,   

Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,   

    And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!

 

...with thanks to Russell Wilson, Pete Carroll and the entire Seattle Seahawks team for an inspiring season.

The "Yes" That Means "No"

Mark Nepo continues to enlighten me with his daybook, "The Book of Awakening." If you haven't seen it, I recommend you check it out from your local library or bookstore. A few days ago, his topic was, "I Say Yes When I Mean No."

Have you ever done this? I have, with consequences ranging from unpleasant to disastrous.

My mom gave me a calendar with a photo like this for each week (thanks, Mom!).

Though this photo is funny, anyone who has ever said "Yes" when she meant "No" knows it is not a joke. It is painful to override our own inner voice - our own deep desires and gut feelings.

I'm not speaking of choices like "vanilla or chocolate?;" I am talking about things that evoke a visceral NO, but are ignored. Things like, No, you may not touch me that way.  No, the way you speak to me is not acceptable. No, I 'm not ready to take action on this. No, that job isn't in my skill set, or my heart's path. No, I don't want another drink. No, thank you, I am not hungry. No, thank you, but I do not want to marry you. No, that is not what I meant. No, I do not have the time/money/energy to invest in your cause. No, I will not do your work for you. No, I will not abandon myself. No, I will not jump on this bandwagon. {Insert your own "No" here.}

In our family, we have a joke called, "The Yes that means No." This is the long, drawn-out syllable of "Yeeeeees," spoken without conviction, when one really means (and doesn't want to say) "No." We point it out - "Ah, there's the 'Yes' that really means 'No!,' " and we laugh about it, clear the air, and then, our true voice is heard on the subject: No. And I want to hear that true voice, even if I am disappointed or disagree. That has been one of the interesting things about this marriage: I love Gregg enough to want him to have his way, as much as I want my own. That was new, for me.

I grew up in a traditional household, the product of a 1950s marriage as it evolved through the 1960s and 1970s. There was not an equal balance of power between my parents in those days, and it was felt by all of us (they have since established a happier balance). I grew up feeling that I hadn't had enough of my own way, or the opportunity to self-determine. I'm not sure if this is a universal quality of youth, or if it was an effect of growing up in my family of origin; perhaps it was due to the overbearing nature of the religion we practiced, or to observing people outside of our circle who had more freedom than I. I just knew that I wanted some control when I became an adult, and when the time came, I did my best to assert it. I didn't always do it gently or gracefully, and made plenty of mistakes in the process.

Mark Nepo says, 

"There have been many times that I said yes when I meant no, afraid of displeasing others, and even more afraid of being viewed as selfish. I think the first time I decided to get married, I said yes when I meant no. Young and inexperienced in being myself, I agreed to  be a fish out of water for as long as I could, so as not to hurt or disappoint or displease. Not surprisingly, it all ended badly."

That passage could have been written about me; I did the same thing, and it was a mistake of large proportions. I ended up hurting the man (and myself) far more in the long run than if I had simply faced the truth at the beginning, and said - and acted upon - the NO which I felt so deeply.

Because I did feel it, but was afraid of it - afraid of what it meant I would have to do.

After divorcing, I have tried to learn from my mistakes. When I met Gregg, I learned that not everyone is driven to have his own way. Gregg freely shared the power in our relationship. This shifted my consciousness; I found the pleasure of giving way, of asking, "What do YOU want to do?" - and meaning it. It took some time, as I am strong-willed and tenacious, but after a little while, I had enough of "my way," and began to enjoy seeking and finding out what Gregg really wanted (when he had a preference), and giving it to him.

Nepo goes on to say,

"...those who truly love us will never knowingly ask us to be other than we are...when we agree to any demand, request or condition that is contrary to our soul's nature, the cost is that precious life force is drained off our core. Despite the seeming rewards of compliance, our souls grow weary by engaging in activities that are inherently against their nature...watch any piece of nature doing what it does--tree, moose, snake, or lightning--[and] it becomes clear that the very energy of life is the spirit released by things being what they are."

"God holds in power the soul of every living thing,

And the breath of every human body." -Book of Job, Chapter 12

If our soul, our true self, is God's gift to us, and our gift to the world, there can be no benefit in putting it "under a bushel," or on "mute." May we each have to courage to give (and to receive) whole-hearted "Yes" and "No," from attention to the soul of who we truly are.

"The Glory of God is a human being fully alive." - St. Irenaeus

Devote Yourself

"Yours is to live it, not to reveal it." - Helen Luke 

I am reminded of the gift of Mark Nepo's gentle wisdom as I read the piece he has selected for each day of the year in his luminous work, "The Book of Awakening." Today's reading begins with the quote above, from his mentor Helen Luke - some of her last words to him before her passing. As abrupt as this quote sounds upon first reading, Nepo goes on to explain:

"...I've come to understand her last instruction as an invitation to shed any grand purpose, no matter how devoted we may be to what we are doing. She wasn't telling me to stop writing, but to stop striving to be important. She was inviting me to stop recording the poetry of life and to enter the poetry of life.
"This lesson applies to us all. If we devote ourselves to the life at hand, the rest will follow. For life, it seems, reveals itself through those willing to live. Anything else, no matter how beautiful, is just advertising."

This passage struck me deeply. What does it mean to "devote ourselves to the life at hand?" Looking up "devote" and "devotion" tells us that it involves wholehearted giving of oneself and one's resources; the root is in "consecration," - the word's origin is "vow."

It resonated with one of my favorite passages in "Radical Grace" by Richard Rohr. Writing about Mary, the mother of Jesus, and her actions upon receiving the visit from an angel who announces Mary's pregnancy, Rohr says:

"The events themselves will be her guide and teacher. She does not need to figure it out and plan accordingly; the plan will be given by God through life's encounters. Reality is her teacher. That is why she could hear angels.
"Decisive action beyond our fears gives us a sense of our own power and the power of God within us. [Mary] can hold her power comfortably because she knows it is from Beyond."

I held on to this passage when Katie was in the hospital. My prayer practice had been so peaceful and regular, before her illness; once we were uprooted and transplanted from our old life, my practice became prayer-in-action, pray-as-you-go, the prayer of living service. It was the prayer of devotion, wholehearted giving. Now, eight years later, I pray to work and live as wholeheartedly today as I did then, in the midst of the crisis of illness.

Since Katie's passing, I have accepted invitations to serve in places which - eight years ago - were not even on my personal radar: the University of Washington's School of Medicine and Field's End Writer's Community are two examples. Serving on panels, taking classes and teaching classes are fun and rewarding ways to give. Now, I have entered a new field of learning and service: I recently completed the first level of Jikiden Reiki training. Reiki is a spiritual healing practice which is not linked to a religion. It originated in Japan, and it is a way to practice healing prayer, relying upon the power of Universal Life Force, or ki (which is another name for God). I am enjoying the practice enormously.

This is a natural step, after a summer of suffering physical pain, limitation and the medications which masked it. It is also a natural step, considering my attachment to my DVD project as "the" way to help clinicians deal with their grief and pain. In releasing my grip on that project, I can now see other ways to serve. Reiki is practiced in medical centers and has unlimited potential. Its Gokai, or five principles, are:
Just for today -
Do not be angry
Do not worry
Be grateful
Do your duties 
Be kind to others

In "Do your duties," I hear, "work wholeheartedly,"  or "devote yourself."

Life itself is revealing where I need to go. God provides the inspiration, and the power of His creativity and love, and I follow, as wholeheartedly as possible.

Poetry, Art & Music

I think of myself as a prose writer. I wrote the occasional poem as a younger person, for school assignments, but it has never been my primary language. Yet I love - and I mean LOVE, memorize and sing - song lyrics of every genre, which of course are poems. And my senior project (for college graduation) incorporated a famous poem.

We were assigned a self-portrait as part of our graduation requirement. This came after I discovered that my fiance had been unfaithful; I had broken our engagement, was facing an unclear future and did not really know how to see myself. In addition, I had not gained great facility with watercolor painting (the favored medium in the art department at that time), so I had not the means to render an accurate self-portrait - but I used it anyway, which says something right there.

I decided upon an abstract composition; then, feeling it was raw and incomplete (which was in fact an accurate portrayal of my self-image at the time), I incorporated a photograph and a roughly hand-lettered fragment of a poem, because it is what came to me. It was not considered a great success by my professor, but it expressed my feelings at the time; even then, as a 21-year old fine art major, I could not suppress the urge to use language in my artwork. So perhaps there is more poetry in my soul than I know - perhaps there is in each one of us - expressed in a variety of ways, not always recognized outright as poetry.

I wrote a poem about the beach when I was a little girl. I remember - and can still see in my mind's eye - the exact place I pictured as I wrote it. I showed the poem to my grandmother, and was happily surprised to find later that she kept it in a drawer in her bedside table. I wish I knew where it was now.

Poetry has been on my mind lately for several reasons. Friends read, write and share poetry; poems appear on blogs and various other places online. I follow a caringbridge site which has exposed me to a wealth of absolutely gorgeous poetry, with which patient and family express their feelings at the end of each update. As a Core Team member of Field's End Writers' Community, poetry has come to my attention as a deep need in the community. Though perhaps not freely acknowledged in mainstream consciousness, poetry is all around us; it's a natural language of the human spirit. We seek poetry to express what may be unutterable in any other form, in our own words or those of others; this makes us feel less alone. Sometimes, these poems are set to music.

This beautiful fusion of music and poetry has been playing in my head for several days. It says a great deal to me about stopping, seeing, feeling, listening, hearing, speaking, silence and being. I hope you will enjoy it. (Video credit: YouTube)

From East Coast Karen

This morning's devotional said: "The Wisdom of Solomon tells us that 'love is stronger than death' (Song of Songs 8:6)." This poem states it in a different way:

"Death is nothing at all.
I have only slipped away into the next room.
I am I and you are you,
Whatever we were to each other, that we still are.
Call me by my old familiar name,
Speak to me in the easy way which you always used.
Put no difference in your tone,
wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow,
laugh as we always laughed
at the little jokes we enjoyed together.
Pray smile, think of me, pray for me.
Let my name be ever the household word
that it always was.
Let it be spoken without effort,
without the trace of a shadow in it.
Life means all that it ever meant,
it is the same as it ever was.
There is unbroken continuity,
why should I be out of mind
because I am out of sight?
I am waiting for you
somewhere very near
just around the corner.
All is well." - Christina Georgina Rossetti 1830 - 1894

My friend, "Karen East," of From Paradise to Plan B , posted the poem above for one of her friends. It is so beautiful, and speaks so deeply to me of what I believe is the intention (or voice) of our beloved ones who have gone before us, that I had to share it here. Thank you & much love to you, Karen!

On the bow of DA BOATA, staff & campers catch french fries thrown from friends and fans who are at Red Robin, on the pier.

Today is "National Cancer Sucks Day," which (of course) coincides with the Camp Goodtimes cruise, also known as "DA BOATA." David and I will be helping on board, assisting with arts, crafts and wherever an extra pair of hands is needed by the campers, all of whom are cancer patients, former cancer patients, and their siblings. It's going to be a day of fun, silliness, friendship and JOY. There will be music, dancing, singing, a buffet lunch, french-fry throwing & catching, and all kinds of general craziness.

Cancer sucks...but it doesn't have to spoil everyone's fun, and Camp Goodtimes is a place to see that fact in action. As the song says, "Celebrate good times - come on!"

The Doors

I was recently given the gift of a beautiful poem that is filled with wisdom. One of the joys of having a blog is that I get to share it with you here.

"Allow

There is no controlling life.

Try corralling a lightning bolt,

containing a tornado. Dam a

stream and it will create a new
channel. Resist, and the tide

will sweep you off your feet.

Allow, and grace will carry

you to higher ground. The only

safety lies in letting it all in --

the wild and the weak; fear,

fantasies, failures and success.

When loss rips off the doors of

the heart, or sadness veils your

vision with despair, practice

becomes simply bearing the truth.

In the choice to let go of your

known way of being, the whole

world is revealed to your new eyes."

- Danna Faulds, from Go In and In

This could be a description of the past four years of my life.

It reminds me of a documentary about the American band of the 1960s, The Doors. (I had a crush on Jim Morrison, back in the day. He was so sadly strung out on drugs, but he had so much raw talent, beauty and sensuality. The fact that he died in his 20s is a tragic waste; I always think of him, Jimi Hendrix and Janis Joplin together, a trio of lost artists of 1968.)

From Wikipedia: "The band [The Doors] took its name from Aldous Huxley's book The Doors of Perception,^[4] the title of which was a reference to a William Blake quotation: 'When the doors of perception are cleansed, things will appear to man as they truly are...' "

I am engaged in a book study with three friends, and the title of the book is "Open the Door - A Journey to the True Self." Doors of perception cleansed, doors of the heart ripped off, doors to true self opened. I'd call this confluence of poetic doors a blessing.

My blogging friend Mary of Landing on My Feet posted another powerful poem by this same author today. Follow the link if you would like to read more.