I have made a commitment to three things: finding time for Blue Space (beach, sky), Green Space (earth, woods), and the responses I have to poets & writers. I seek to discover the art of being.
Inspiration for my poem comes courtesy of Joy Harjo and her poem "Bird."
All poets understand the final
uselessness of words. We are chords to
other chords to other chords, if we're
lucky, to melody.
***
I love the idea we are chords to each other,
that we can create melodies.
Today I'm in love with the song "Wildflowers" -- all about
deserving a place to be free.
I deserve a place in the music of life. More and more I see
the necessity and grace of that flow.
In a while I will sit and play and
be the music for a little while.
My commitment, my practice now, is to be totally aware
in every moment what I need to do next to keep my
soul and spirit soothed, to be the music, to add to
the melody.
***
And as chords come and go, along with the melodies they create, singers have long acknowledged other songwriters by recording their songs. Here is a lovely rendition by Jimmy Buffett of the
Well, Czeslaw Milosz has done it again. I look forward to Saturday mornings when I read from his poetry collection, because it usually produces satisfying poetry of my own.
I've been working my way through his multi-part poem "Lithuania, After Fifty-Two Years." In it, he has returned to his childhood neighborhood, and each time he takes me to mine.
Walking the two blocks to St. Mark's School in Cleveland is one of my most solid memories. I'm taken there quite often. Today, it happened again:
A young girl once walked this street,
knew every crack in the sidewalk,
every tree, the stop signs.
Who is the girl who is walking it now
to the same school, past the same park?
Does she have a friend who splits
off to walk a different way? Does
she have those older boys who
throw snowballs at her in the winter?
Does she still walk home for lunch
and then return -- or have those
days changed?
Who is the girl who runs multiplication tables in her
head as she walks, whose teachers reach her with the
It was all planned. My husband would accompany me to the doctor to find out what all this lupus stuff was about. We had already decided I must have the "good" kind, limited to a rash. Seemed simple enough.
I woke this morning and realized I didn't need Jim to go with me. I decided to go alone. As it got close to time to leave, I found I was full of nervous energy. I didn't really know why. I had this figured out, right?
I drove up Summerlin Road, following my breath as I had not taken time to sit zazen. Then I found the sky ahead of me -- soft blue, some clouds -- and I remembered Pema Chodron's line about (I'm paraphrasing) behind all the craziness there is a big sky. I found the big sky. I felt these words come to me: Everything will be alright.
Arriving at my appointment, the song "Nobody Told Me " came on the Beatles station. I haven't heard this song for a long time, and I was already aware it was John Lennon's birthday. I did not go right into my appointment. Instead, I listened to the song with tears in my eyes. I had no idea why.
Once I met the doctor, and she told me the news that the lab tests say I have the "bad" kind of lupus, I was sorry I had not brought my husband. I was shocked all over again. The doctor had to concede that I had none of the usual symptoms, and she ordered more tests. I made an appointment for two weeks, paid my $40, and went to my car to fall apart.
But I didn't. On the drive home I started to feel quite calm. I realized I didn't need my husband with me. I have coping mechanisms and ways of working things out when I am alone.
I got home, thinking I would collapse on the bed crying anyway, but I didn't. Jim was reassuring. He said, "We'll get through this, just like everything else." He's right of course.
A little while after lunch, I drove down to Lab Corp which is basically walking distance from my house. I dreaded the blood test. My history of having blood drawn has included passing out, multiple stabbings with my veins collapsing, and general misery. Back in the day I had to get a blood test to get married. The doctor had to take it out of my groin vein, after he tried several others. Having blood drawn is my worst nightmare.
But Louise at Lab Corp -- she rocked it. Had six vials filled up with one poke. God bless that woman. Like a million times.
I drove home with a light rain starting, and I felt so...happy. I spent the rest of the day grading papers and relaxing. Taking care of myself. Making sure I keep up with things so I don't get stressed. Doing the next right thing.
Nobody told me there'd be days like these -- when the sky would speak to me and my life could feel like it's coming apart, but then I know it isn't. I know it's going to be alright.
This morning I decided to combine walking with meditating. I took myself to Lakes Park for the first time in a long time. It was a quiet morning there, for which I was grateful. It was a perfect morning for walking quietly and listening.
When I was done, having been inspired by the trees and flowers and birds and bunnies and squirrels and the sun bursting through the mild cloud cover, I went to my car and read the next poem in my David Whyte poetry book.
It was called "Sitting Zen."
Perfect, I thought. I just walked Zen.
I decided to use his poem as a mentor text. The last two words are from his poem.
WALKING ZEN
Weeks of waiting
for the park to reopen
after the hurricane,
I made my
way with a hunger
to be in within the trees, by the
water, under the sky.
On the trail
the brilliant yellow Rock Rose
transmitted secrets.
Pine trees asked me to listen.
I took their messages to heart.
I walked with my breath,
my senses engaged.
I saw a cardinal, heard
a woodpecker, smelled
the musty wood fragrance.
Forms around me,
the formless inside me
touched, appreciated, fleeting.
Sometimes I lose my balance,
I need to be saved. But today
I was somehow on sturdy ground,
feet firmly planted.
The trees, my companions
in weathering the storm.
And me, reaching to touch
a flower petal as I passed,
listening
presence.
If Eagle has majestically soared into your cards, you are being put on notice to reconnect with the element of air. Air is of the mental plan, and in this instance it is the of the higher mind. Wisdom comes in many strange and curious forms and is always related to the creative force of the Great Spirit. (Sams and Carson)
I was on a tight schedule this morning, which forced me to abandon my 20 minute zazen meditation. I was feeling pretty freaked about the fact that I had no planning period today because of a meeting, I wasn't ready for the class I had to teach at the end of the day, and I had to go to the dentist to see about an ongoing problem with a bridge I got in August.
Driving to my appointment, I took a road called A & W Bulb Road. This used to be an area with flower fields that produced bulbs and shipped them all over the world. Now it's a collection of neighborhoods, a church, a synagogue, some apartments, and trees that hold a giant eagle's nest.
During certain times of years, it is common to see people with large cameras set up photographing the eagles. I have never taken the time to stop and see if I could find the nest. Always on my way somewhere, right?
Well, today the eagles decided to fix my complacency. They came flying out right as I was approaching and proceeded to fly up the road right ahead of me. From my vantage point I could keep my eyes on the eagles and the road quite easily. My heart was lifted. I know Eagle Medicine has many sacred properties, and I took it as a good sign. When I got to the light at MacGregor Blvd, the eagles planted themselves on top of a pole across the way so I could see them while I waited for my chance to turn. The smile on my face was huge, I'm sure, and I was much calmer for my dentist appointment.
And then I had a wonderful morning with my students.
And I managed to get the meeting canceled.
And I was ready for my debate class.
And at the end of the day I got some weird news about my health that does not seem to fit my current reality. I came home a bit shocked, but soon realized the eagles had a message for me.
"Wisdom comes in many strange and curious forms and is always related to the creative force of the Great Spirit."
There is something I have to access here. Some intuitive wisdom. I need to drop my stresses and keep my mind and heart straight. I need to connect to the Great Spirit. On this very windy day, the element of Air is making its presence known. Taking time to write this tonight is one way I am acknowledging that small moments can add up to something grand.
"Take flight and keep moving forward" is the message I hear.
Don't be complacent. Don't forget the power within.
