Poetic Revelations: Fill Me Up
Notes from a Rainy Day
In truth, the more we let love flow, the more we have to love. ~ Mark Nepo
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Because Human-ing is harder than Adulting. This is a weekly publication for heart-centered warriors, swimming through this thing called Life.
Selected Readings and Sounds:
From Blossoms, Li-Young Li
Rain, Kazim Ali
Interview with Roger MacNamee, Berkeley Talks Transcript
Dear Embodied Hearts and Dancing Souls,
This whole day has the elements of full-on magic. The outlook from my window is green—the verdant of summer leaves rustling in gusts of wind amidst steady pouring rain. I sit at my desk, a hot mug of coffee at my side, my notebook and crayons in hand.
A correction to a citation from the last article, submitted by a trusted reader: the name of the songwriter who wrote Angels from Montgomery is John Prine.
For those new here, please check the footnote to learn a little about me.1
Silly Grins. To celebrate the 60th birthday of a dear friend, my husband and I arrive early to the designated picnic spot to set up. Immediately we heard a cry of "Hi! Hi!". We turned to spy a tiny face peeking through wide fence posts with a waving arm. Our arms loaded, we yelled, "Hi! Hi!" back. Once we set up, we moseyed to the fence and to our surprise, there were two little faces (twins!) who were eager to engage with us. They could not stop smiling as they played with different ways to experience their bodies on the fence posts. One of them started falling backwards and then found a way to catch himself and just had the silliest grin on his face as a result. Of course, mom had a different look on her face.
This moment. The gathering that followed under warm blue skies. The entire day that followed consisting of cocktails by the river and then a delicious feast for dinner with 20 lovely adults. It filled me up. Nectar, like this poem about peaches by Li-Young Li:
From laden boughs, from hands,
from sweet fellowship in the bins,
comes nectar at the roadside, succulent
peaches we devour, dusty skin and all,
Someone asked one of the groups how they knew the birthday boy (they did their PhDs together) and how long they were in that PhD program together. One man wryly noted, "A lifetime."
Ambling Ramblings. My college roommate arrives for a visit. We knit, have coffee, walk, explore a bookstore and art, enjoy views, and exchange stories. It is wonderful to be with a friend who knows me so well. Here more parts of me come online: my humor, gumption, resourcefulness. Our shared perspectives interweave. Like us, our conversation ambles freely--caffeine habits, spouses, parents, children (hers and that of our friends), the state of the union, the state of anything.
We bemoan the American world our young people are coming of age into. Career pipelines vanishing. No vested interest in their development for tomorrow. We bond on writers who are laying out, brick by brick, the systematic drivers that led to this transformation. We talk about Congressional dysfunction, how subscriptions have forced us to become renters not owners, and also…venture capitalism (VC). "Yes!" she exclaims. She read a great article that illuminated how venture capitalists differ from actual capitalists and how their behavior underlies what we’re seeing. “Capitalists,” she says, “actually value the role of government in the economy but venture capitalists don’t.”
As you know, my curious mind is constantly searching for missing puzzle pieces that help reveal the bigger picture. It’s helpful… the bigger picture helps me see where to focus my own efforts. In that vein, I share this interview which I find essential reading for our times. It’s between the University of Berkley and Roger MacNamee, a VC funds manager from Silicon Valley about his book Zucked from 2021. In it, he discusses how VC cultural values changed from the hippie days of Apple to a hyper-libertarianism where customers no longer matter and socio-pathic 20-year-olds are actively selected to run companies. Sound familiar? Breaking the law is rewarded here. He also links to research by a Harvard professor named Shoshana Zuboff, and their book called The Age of Surveillance Capitalism who shows how these “app” companies are extraction-ists, except they extract our data instead of minerals. I’m eager to follow this lead.
Somehow this is what I can offer you. Like Wu Shen, who, observing the impact of climate change around her, offers, “And all I can do is write a poem,” all I can do is offer you the puzzle pieces I notice.
Fill Me Up. The next day I wake up. It's early. What's that I'm hearing? Is it a video playing downstairs? No, that's the sound of my husband's voice. In conversation. A free-flowing one. He sounds relaxed. What strange fruit is this? And then he is laughing. Not just any laugh, a slow easy laughter from his chest. It turns out to be a college roommate who lives in Japan. It reminds me of a poem that is starting to come out my fingers:
First I am a woman.
I love how soft feels,
the light and warmth
of sunlight
on closed eyes
how laughter
can rise
at the back of my throat.
~ Monisha
I go on my walk. It’s raining but it’s perfect. The experiences of the past few days rumble around with me. I hear my inner voice saying, “Fill me Up!” Yes, we can fill ourselves up. Do you know, you can make choices to fill yourself up? Even amidst turbulent times. I am filled by rich conversation, connection, this exceedingly constant soft pattering rain that seems to whisper—it’s OK. You can slow down. We’re making everyone slow down today.” Like Kazim Ali in his poem Rain:
Over the echo of the water, I hear a voice saying my name.
No one in the city moves under the quick sightless rain.
By the time I'm back on my stoop, turning the knob to my front door, I hear my own inner voice say:
A friend is someone to share lifetimes with. (Monisha)
A Holy No. I close this letter by telling you that I had to do something very difficult last week. I had to be the adult that terminated an agreement with a vendor (from my cultural community) who was bullying me. It took me three weeks to take this action even though, as they say in Star Wars, I had a bad feeling about this. Finally, friends made explicit what I was bargaining with—my money, my time, and my experience. So I did it. I climbed inside my adult self and took responsibility for what I wanted. Even though he hurled venom in my face and wanted me to feel bad about “what I had done,” I stuck to my guns. I filled with relief. As a result, our group of 20 had a lovely experience with another venue who wanted our business. Finding my Holy No, I learned that I can stand up to toxic masculinity, even within my community.
I share this because there are so many ways to fill yourself up…you are the chooser of the experience you want to have. You can detour away from poor ones and hurl yourself towards better ones. I am so relieved I found it in me to speak up. And I learned that next time, I can do it sooner. Whether poems. friendships, nature or more, take time to fill up your beautiful Body-Spirit. It is the only way to stay heart-bold when life asks us to be.
To your exquisite unfolding. Stay #heartwoke!
Monisha
When we belong to ourselves, we move freely. ~ Monisha Mittal
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Between the ages of 4-6, I was separated twice from the family unit I called home eventually returned to my family of origin. Over the past five years, I’ve been climbing into my body and heart through an embodied play practice called InterPlay. Here I found a deep assurance that calmed the anxiety and depression that plagued me most of my life. This wasn’t mental but felt and sensed. More than this, it brought me embodied presence and unexpected joy. I’ve learned I have a sensitive-body, how anxiety was a valid response to the life choices I faced. I am in awe of how my body keeps nudging me to my truth.