Blackberries

 Today I read this poem by Mary Oliver:

Blueberries

I’m living in a warm place now, where you can purchase fresh blueberries allyear long. Labor free. From variouscountries in South America. They’reas sweet as any, and compared with theberries I used to pick in the fieldsoutside Provincetown, they’reenormous. But berries are berries. Theydon’t speak any language I can’tunderstand. Neither do I find ticks orsmall spiders crawling among them. So,generally speaking, I’m very satisfied.

There are limits, however. What theydon’t have is the field. The field theybelonged to and through the years I began to feel I belonged to. Well,there’s life, and then there’s later. Maybe it’s myself that I miss. Thefield, and the sparrow singing at the edge of the woods. And the doe that one morning came upon me unaware, all tense and gorgeous. She stamped her hoof as you would to any intruder. Then gave me a long look, as if to say, Okay, you stay in your patch, I’ll stay in mine. Which is what we did. Try packing that up, South America.

I will say it was June 1994

When I woke on an overcast morning 

In the mountains

And I pulled on leggings and a floppy sweater

And walked up the road

To an empty lot that hosted a boulder

Perfectly formed for sitting

Perfectly placed for a view of the river

Yet a bit hidden from view

I sat and said my morning prayers

Then I thought “I’m hungry”

I had left the cabin without eating anything

And then I noticed the blackberry bush

Nestled up next to the rock where I sat

And it was full of juicy blackberries

Which I eagerly picked and enjoyed

A true delight on that summer morning

Unexpected, yet not

When a small need was met by nature 

This Morning

My friend Pam gave me a book of Mary Oliver poetry called Devotions, and now that I’m done with Regina’s book, I’ve started reading one of Mary’s every morning.

The poem today made an impact:

This Morning

This morning the redbirds’ eggs
have hatched and already the chicks
are chirping for food. They don’t
know where it’s coming from, they
just keep shouting, “More! More!”
As to anything else, they haven’t
had a single thought. Their eyes
haven’t yet opened, they know nothing
about the sky that’s waiting. Or
the thousands, the millions of trees.
They don’t even know they have wings.

And just like that, like a simple
neighborhood event, a miracle is
taking place.

As I wrote in my journal, I kept going back to the line:

They don’t even know they have wings.

I feel there is a personal meaning for me in that line. Where are the wings I don’t know I have?

Admittedly, I was nervous about January coming. I felt that it meant getting into the fray again.

But Thursday was a peaceful day. There were things to figure out, and I did. I stayed calm, enjoyed everything I did, used my resources, asked questions, asked for help. Yes, all the things I reminded my student to do over the years.

I woke today feeling great. Ready. Strong. My eyes were open. I can allow miracles.

And on the way to an appointment, an eagle flew over Summerlin Road right in front of me, and on into Lakes Park, prey hanging from his talons. It is the second eagle I’ve seen in a month. It reminds me that Spirit is with me always. This morning. This afternoon. While I take out the garbage. While I cook dinner. While I sleep.

A new year is upon us. We all have wings. May they lift us high over the next 12 months.

What She Knows

Spontaneous poem written by starting with last line in a poem called “The Weaver” by Pat Schneider.

What she knows she knows

There is life after a death

There can be good days

Happiness

It has to come from within

No one can do it for her

There is no hole or gap

Just light shining consistently

Her name means light

And she lets it show the way

On how to weave a new life

The one she always knew she’d live.

That one wild and precious life.

Stopped in My Tracks: Poem

I continue to enjoy going to my Lectio Divine group every Monday afternoon, and am now starting to assist in finding passages for our four part study and sharing. I offered to do December 30, with the idea of finding something for the new year.

I never expected to find what I did. When I read this poem, I had this overwhelming feeling of awe that something could address so many aspects of my life, including the word EMERGE, which was my word for this year.

Sandy, our leader, feels this is a perfect poem for us to do on the 30th, and I will sink into it deeper then. Right now I am just reading and letting the words wash over me, knowing I will continue to find this a map of sorts for the life I am now living.

FOR A NEW BEGINNING 

by John O'Donohue

In out-of-the-way places of the heart, 

Where your thoughts never think to wander, 

This beginning has been quietly forming, 

Waiting until you were ready to emerge.

For a long time it has watched your desire, 

Feeling the emptiness growing inside you, 

Noticing how you willed yourself on,

Still unable to leave what you had outgrown.

It watched you play with the seduction of safety 

And the gray promises that sameness whispered, 

Heard the waves of turmoil rise and relent, 

Wondered would you always live like this.

Then the delight, when your courage kindled, 

And out you stepped onto new ground,

Your eyes young again with energy and dream, 

A path of plenitude opening before you.

Though your destination is not yet clear 

You can trust the promise of this opening; 

Unfurl yourself into the grace of beginning 

That is at one with your life's desire.

Awaken your spirit to adventure;

Hold nothing back, learn to find ease in risk; 

Soon you will home in a new rhythm,

For your soul senses the world that awaits you.

Just Living My Life

I recently joined Blue Skies, a social media site that has recently gotten popular. I find some good stuff on there, totally different than being on Facebook.

There is a writer/writing teacher that shows up on my feed named Joseph Fasano.  I need to investigate more about him, and today’s post really got me interested. I think I could use some creative inspiration like what happened here:

I don’t have his prompt, but I am going to write my version here spontaneously, based on affirmations I’ve given myself today.

AFFIRMATIONS

My energy returned today

I took some bold steps in my financial wellness

I let the blue sky draw my attention and bring me rest

I took care of things and that means mostly me.

I am living a new story, one I expected

A lot of the crazy emotions I’ve had

well, they have calmed down

I am off the roller coaster for now

and just living my life.

That’s the way it should be.

It’s about time!

 

I came upon this picture….

 

I came upon this picture

From the East Coast of Florida, 1991

I didn’t make note of which beach this actually is

Maybe Melbourne?

I loved seeing this, you in your bright white and blue

You were fully healthy and strong

We loved getting away from Ohio, seeing your family in Florida

Visiting the different areas, always something new to discover.

We had a good life together, you and me.

I don’t usually do this, but today I must. I subscribe to Sherman Alexie on Substack, and on occasion he posts poems, micro-memoirs, and short stories he’s written. The one today really spoke to me. I think it is because I use the phrase “take care” quite a bit. In fact, I bet I said it to Jim every time I left him, along with “I love you.”  

The power of this poem, besides its format which is interesting in its own right, is that it makes you think of some small thing you are grateful for, something that helps you take care of yourself or others. For me today it’s fresh water and ice I have constant access to. It helps me stay hydrated and healthy. I like that I can rely on it.

Enjoy this poem “Take Care.” I hope it makes you think of one small thing you are grateful for today.

Take Care  poem SHERMAN ALEXIE OCT 16 This morning, before we ended the call, my friend said "Take care," a common phrase, yes, and delivered by habit but let's take a moment to recognize its uncommon grace, its call for all of us to take care of ourselves, of course, but also to take care of others, and, today, let it be a call to take care, to notice, the smaller beauties of the things that surround us. I feel silly but I'm going to celebrate the shredded wheat squares that I ate for breakfast. Ah, the crisp and slight sweetness of the cereal are also the two aspects of personality that I love most in people—so here is my honor song for that blend of human satire and kindness—the gentle mockery and gentle praise—the edge of tender and tender of edge—that leave me laughing and grateful for loving and being loved.   LIKE COMMENT RESTACK