that wild, that loving
Dear Readers,
Saturday was one of those hibernation days where I let myself drift from one creative activity to another without any agenda. The air was cold, the wind stirred the dried leaves, and the sky remained just grey enough that I kept the dog walks short. After back to back trips that took me from Canada to California, this was my first day off since the election. The quiet was necessary.
The past weeks have been filled with heavy conversations and spinning minds as my professional and personal communities sit with weighty questions and speculations about our shared future. The news won’t quit and neither will our worries. As a result, there has also been discussion about where we find relief. For me, the answer is nature and dogs (I’m not unique in this). And when it comes to reading and writing, the best place to find those topics are in poetry.
It took me a long time to get poetry. Years and years ago, my mom bought me a copy of Mary Oliver’s New and Selected Poems. I remember reading the poems, but not feeling the words indented on the page. So, I shelved the book until a next chapter of life when I was more ready to understand.
from Poetry Unbound recently described so well what took me a while to learn. He writes: “What is a poem? It is a made thing. What are these small phrases? It is the world of ours, made and made and made and made, as people go to work, wait for the late bus, look for that brand of toothpaste, arrange a protest against the war, take a risk of trust, swear at the news, and talk to themselves.”"It’s gonna feel.”
“It’s gonna feel.”
“It’s gonna feel.”
- words written in my phone on Saturday
I’ve also found poetry to be a place of connection. In my meditation group, we often use poetry as a way to center our minds before sitting in quiet with one another. In seminars, I’ve seen poetry used to entwine different ideas brought to the table. And recently in a fellowship, I had a poem gifted to me as a self-reflection, and that is the poem I want to bring you today.
From 2023-2024, I was in a fellowship with The Witness Institute. For 15 months, ten of us from different countries and professions gathered with Rabbi Dr. Ariel Burger to study moral leadership. During our summer retreat in 2023, we were also joined by a wonderful storyteller and teacher named Cleary Vaughan-Lee who is the founder of the Global Oneness Project. In a session about poetry, she offered each of us a poem that spoke to her first impression of us.
The poem Cleary chose for me was Luke by Mary Oliver. What struck me right away was that the poem summoned joy and play. I wasn’t receiving the reflection I often do which is that I’m a serious person steeped in serious topics. This was a new way of seeing myself and a new way of understanding how others might see me. The poem begins like this:
I had a dog
who loved flowers.
Briskly she went
through the fields,
yet paused
for the honeysuckle
or the rose…
So much of what I’ve been exploring in this second season of the Along The Seam podcast are about the stories we tell ourselves. We live in an age of expected self-actualization and that is certainly important, but sometimes we need a break from our own narratives. Sometimes (often times?) our minds are not our best mirrors of self and we need the gift of someone else’s observations.
From here in Maine,
Rachael
I adore this reflection. This is quite simply a time for poetry, because poetry requires courage.
as usual Rachael such a thoughtful and beautiful read and observations. I too once didn't 'get' poetry...slowing I'm getting it. Pádraig Ó Tuama an inspiration for me too.