Wonder is Worthy Work

An Open Letter to Jane Kenyon

Jane, please-

It is possible to pick a flower and

not trip over the husk,

to squat in pure rejoicing

without looking forward

to the demise of the coffee cup

or the shards of your lover, broken on the floor.

Eat a sandwich.

Walk your dog.

Live your life.

Potential Energy

The seeds (sealed in a pocket
squashed in a small pot
with spongy, thirsty dirt
and simple instructions for planting,
a gesture, an idea of green)
surprise themselves and sprout.


I wrote both of those poems last year, during a shifting and fruitful time of my life. The first, "An Open Letter to Jane Kenyon," was written as I was reading Jane Kenyon:  Collected Poems. I remember very clearly being overtaken by both the beauty of her imagery and the depth of her depression. Jane Kenyon did suffer from depression, and to be clear, I do not mean to make light of that. Dealing with depression myself, I know that  does not allow the luxury of a choice of perspective. Thus, the poem has always felt awkward to me in that "What do you mean, writing to a depressed poet, telling her to stop being depressed? That's really insensitive!" kind of way...and still, something was there that I knew had truth.

Dream a Little Dream with Me

 Some rights reserved by Temari 09

"When an inner situation is not made conscious, it appears outside as fate." - Carl G. Jung


"We are the music makers, and we are the dreamers of dreams." - Roald Dahl, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory


I've been thinking about how we make our own reality...how our expectations and beliefs are mirrored back to us in the world around us. We see what exists...and what exists is a combination of our thoughts and fears, hopes and expectations and everyone else's thoughts/fears/hopes/expectations/beliefs/etc. We are the kings and queens of our own little kingdoms, ruling with wisdom and ignorance, dancing up against other kings and queens, constantly jostled about.

You Can't Stop; I Can't Stay

I saw this in today's Sunday Secrets:

I really wanted it to be a statement about leaving T...but it isn't.  I remember being out with him once, early on in the relationship, the first time he got really drunk- he said that he didn't want to "bring me down with him".  I remember my reply was "Don't worry, you won't."

He's slowly but surely fucking his life up in many directions, that's for sure- and it's quite possible that he will sink.  But I'm not afraid of how I could be impacting that.  In a flight emergency, one has to properly secure their own oxygen mask before assisting others, right?  Well, I'm attending to that, and that translates to getting the fuck out and not fighting to get a mask on someone that doesn't want to breathe.  I can't force him into my lifeboat.

It is my job to make sure I take care of myself.  Amen and Blessed Be that I have learned that lesson well.

Conscious Choice

Ask Much, The Voice Suggested
~ Jane Hirshfield, After ~

Ask much, the voice suggested, and I startled.
Feeling my body like the trembling body of a horse
tied to its tree while the strange noise
passes over its ears.
I who in extremity had always wanted less,
even of eating, of sleeping.
Agile, the voice did not speak again, but waited.
"Want more" --
a cure for longing I had not thought of.
But that is how it is with wells.
Whatever is taken refills to the steady level.
The voice agreed, though softly, to quiet the feet of the horse:
a cup taken out, a cup reappears; a bucketful taken, a bucket.




Some friendships are priceless, as they allow me to not only talk plainly about that which I am normally silent about, but also help build and expand upon my feelings and ideas, bringing coherence. My friendship with JH is one of those friendships. Talking on Monday night about moments of transition, moments that decide a path or a life, he used a metaphor that I really like: if one is riding a bike up a hill, coming to the crest, and needing to decide whether or not to continue down the other side of the hill, knowing the path would take off into the forest and most likely out of sight of the main road, what can be decided? It is possible to turn back at the crest, to ride back to the main road...but if one doesn't, if one continues down the path that leads out of sight of the pack, it can be done just because that's where the momentum leads...or it can be done with conscious choice.

This conversation couldn't have come at a better time. I've been feeling more than a bit alienated and lost lately- definitely like I'm off on a path through the forest. I can see down the hill in front of me, and I've been feeling like I couldn't do anything but just continue down the hill because the momentum was already carrying me down. Without thinking about my ability to choose, this ride was starting to feel overwhelming and scary. Thinking about choice, and remembering that I've been choosing this all along...well, it makes it less scary/more empowering. It reminds me of my purpose. I am hanging out in the air, reaching for the next trapeze bar, with purpose. I am choosing to grab the next bar, even though that means being suspended in the air, uncomfortable and uncertain.

Good friends and conscious choice for the win :)