Your First Morning

 

Caboose poem inspired by Joy Harjo's "First Morning"

 

Don't look back, keep going

The year landed as it did

Now you move ahead,

reaping what you've sown

Knowing better days are coming.

In the bleak December this

may seem far away

And we know the virus

is only increasing (sadly, unnecessarily)

But every morning is a 

FIRST MORNING

The first morning to smile

     The first morning to breathe

          The first morning to write yourself into a new story.

It is always possible.

No clock ticking but your own self-imposed limitations.

Don't look back.

Keep going.

Journal Entry Sunday, November 29, 2020

 I don't often post things I've written in my journal, but today it feels just right.

Here's what has happened this week:

I 100% found myself again.

I think that's why I'm actually looking forward to heading back to the classroom. My energy is restored.

And funny thing -- in the book I'm reading set in 1970, the Kent State Shooting just happened. And I was reflecting on how things quieted down after that -- after years of increasing turmoil in our country. And we are kind of in the same place today. Since the election -- even with the DT insanity -- things have really calmed down. I look at Joe Biden and his dedication to our country, to all our people, and I feel a renewed purpose in what I do. I've got to say, I don't think I've ever felt this inspired by a president. (I was a little young for the Kennedy era.)

I look to the future and, despite what is happening with COVID, I see so much hope that we will be rising up together to create a new world out of the ashes of 2020.

 

Michael Meade has said it for years -- the world has to be turned upside down in order to create a new one. There is no other way. We have lived in the "liminal" time* for a while now -- it felt so painful at times -- but now I think we can see the light. Yes, it's connected to a vaccine, I know this, and I'm fine with it.

I have learned so much through this time. Some of it I would never have learned otherwise.

As I've written about previously, I'm in Act Three. Things got pretty stressful for a while, but I'm learning to trust myself again. Doubt can be debilitating. I've moved beyond that time now and I've got it balanced and working for the benefit of all. Gotta admit -- it feels great!

MAGNIFY THE GOOD

What I focus on expands.

*The word liminal comes from the Latin word 'limen', meaning threshold - any point or place of entering or beginning. A liminal space is the time between the 'what was' and the 'next.' It is a place of transition, a season of waiting, and not knowing.

Morning Song

Inspired this morning pretty directly by Joy Harjo's poem of the same name, this post comes with a lifting of anxiety and a clearer direction before me.

Although I quickly discovered Joy did not write this as a poem. It's a song! And she plays saxophone on it, too. This woman rocks my world! Give a listen.

The creative juices have been flowing these past 24 hours or so, and I feel on the brink of all things new.

Finally got out for a walk while it was still 70 degrees this morning. Took note of many things since I didn't have my phone with me. They made it into the poem below.

After writing with Harjo's text as a mentor, I realized that the ending of this was in Obama's speech to graduates last night. I love synchronicity!

The sun bright on the road

Thought by thought

Beauty by beauty

The ducklings looking for mom

Thought by thought

Beauty by beauty

The runners, bikers, dog walkers

saying hello

Thought by thought

Beauty by beauty

My creative juices flowing

A piece of beach limestone 

in my pocket 

Do not be afraid

Keep taking steps toward new realities

Do not be afraid

Without a Net

I spent yesterday trying to figure out stuff like photo storage and iCloud on my iPhone and iPad, since neither has been backed up in a long time.  I get nervous, thinking, yikes! What if my iPad dies and I'm not backed up?  I've moved the photos to my Mac for safe keeping, and that will suffice. I will clear the way on my devices to add more, but I don't think that it will help the backup problem.

With this in mind, here is today's poem.

What if I go ahead

and live life without a backup?

What am I clinging to anyway?

Technology can strike such fear in us.

But who really cares?

What happens when I'm gone?

This is the real wisdom behind

living in the moment.

What if I can cull things down

to a few important pieces?

And not everything.

What if I cleaned up my own backup

Let the new in?

What does this moment have to

give me that I can store

without a safety net?

 

Rise and Go

This is a reflection in response to reading "Fugitive" by David Whyte.  The lines in italics are from his poem, the part that jump started me.  The reference to Ki is the Japanese belief of our lives in cycles of 9 of which I find a lot of credibility and relevance to my  life.

Rise and Go

while you catch
the beckoning
sense
of a rising tide,
and the need to
rise and go,
a gusted, caught
wherewithal suddenly
within you
to join the others...

I.
Rising tide is the way I feel about what is happening inside me.

Perhaps it's the Ki coming up to my birthday, coming up to a 9 year.

Perhaps it's the conversation I had with Natalie where we actually feel like our District is going in a fruitful direction.

Maybe it's the awesome artistic investigation I've been doing and stepping more fully into my writing project, my music, and re-commitment to zazen.

I feel I'm being lifted.

II.
There are many definitions for "fugitive" -- mostly about fleeing.  But I found one that seems to strike to the heart of the way I feel.

I have escaped captivity.

I am no longer captive to inaction.
No longer captive to exhaustion.
No longer captive to anger.
No longer captive to the pain of lost spirit.

I am a fugitive of disease and procrastination and frustration.

I have fled for my life.

There are resting places.
There are safe spaces.
There is an inside well to draw from, to be hydrated and nourished.

It is called the breath.
It is called the moment.

Unbound.

UNBOUND #4 & #5

The influence of Julia Cameron continues to be felt, as the poem was inspired by her essay on jealousy as a barrier to creativity.  The next poem came after doing my Morning Pages today, the necessary technique to clear the air in our mind each morning.  The opening line came to me when I was walking across the room to get coffee, and I had to rush back and write it down before I forgot about it.

UNBOUND #4

Until you admit you are jealous

Nibbling irritations continue;

Blocks rise up like sentry gates.

Only say the word, recognize it,

Unmask it for what it is -- a

Nemesis of your direction, your dreams

Dissembling all that could be.

UNBOUND #5

Useful. Everything is useful.

Neglect this advice at your peril.

Bring to the light all your darkness.

Open it. Peer inside; don't be afraid.

Undiscovering it is what does the damage.

Now. In this moment,

Depose the demons that stall your progress.

UNBOUND #3

Yesterday I was reading Julia Cameron's essays on perfectionism and risk, and extracted these thoughts into an UNBOUND acrostic poem.  Not exactly a found poem, as I don't use many of her words directly -- I paraphrased in a way that matches the style of these poems and combines into a always much-needed message.

UNBOUND #3

Unrealistic expectations cause us to

Never move forward on our dreams.

Being the best is never really the point;

Once we know this, the ways comes clear.

Understanding risk is the boon of our creative life,

Not the end product, since there is not end.

Define yourself by action, not the illusion of limits.

UNBOUND #1 & 2

I have decided to venture into using the word UNBOUND for acrostic poetry for several reasons.  First, the letters in this word provoke a challenge. Starting two different phrases with "U" provokes a different way of thinking; different than the way I usually speak, anyway.  I have collected some words to help, but the final products are yet to be determined.

The second reason is because I found that with the word REST, I internalized the word to call on as needed by the simple act of writing nine poems, forcing me to think of rest in a variety of ways; most notably lately while getting some dental work done. The words UNBOUND is another I would like to incorporate into my automatic thinking, so moving forward on this seems to be wise use of my time in the long run.

The first one was revised quite severely from the original, and was written to reflect my trip to the beach and all that occurred. The second one -- a type of Artist Prayer -- was in an attempt to say something specific about the inner artist.  I have found with these poems that specifics are needed, or they just sound like the silly acrostics our students are known for writing.

UNBOUND #1 

Unpredicted, but not unusual
Noises off, I listen to what the
Beach had to tell me
Off the record, it whispers
Unleash yourself -- do it
Now -- you are free
Divest your mind of these imaginary chains.


UNBOUND #2

Underneath this everyday life
New ideas are being formed, a
Birthright to be a creator, too, an
Official invitation to be who I am:
Unbridled in artistic will and energy,
Natural state of being, after all,
Determined to live it like the Truth it is.