Poetic Revelations: Snippets and Strands
Amidst upheaval
My toes are piano keys. Each plays a note. My ankle rotates, they come in tune. Each step I take an orchestrated sound. (original poem, Monisha Mittal)
SELECTED POEMS
The Remains, Mark Strand
Listening, Amy Lowell
Dear Embodied Hearts and Dancing Souls,
It sounds so simple: be ourselves. But the past 2 weeks reminded me of moments where this doesn't feel like an easy choice.
Tending to Upheaval. There I am, in front of more than 30 people, glancing at my notes wondering how to proceed. A few days before I was in the height of my flow, looking back at a May that fulfilled some milestones I had dreamed of. For example, my one-on-one calendar was beginning to fill and come into a rhythm. I was navigating life like a mermaid listening to the call of a frequency. By the first Friday of June, I began feeling that I was operating at the edge of my energies.
But I was committed to co-leading a 3 day retreat that same weekend. On Day 2, I sat in the common area to create a new intro to my planned segment. I completed it and paused before looking at the rest of the curriculum. In that pause, I heard that same Hamilton lyric playing Loundly in my head, “It would be enough.” I felt disbelief. How could this intro…be enough?
Oh the perils of not listening to our guidance. The intro segment had gone beautifully. We played with exploring our space with eyes of wonder. There was a moment when a participant noticed the rustling of the leaves on the trees through our windowed walls and we all turned to look and notice together. It actually lasted 45 minutes because of the rich shares.
But, my notes showed another 45 minute sequence waiting. I was tired. The next segment was not in my body. I felt dubious. Yet …I didn’t know how to give myself permission to stop. I didn’t know what to say. Some built in expectation around completing a job (unpaid) took over. I took a breath, and choose to proceed. A minor debacle followed. It was past 8:30 pm. Others were tired too and some became downright petulant. Even though I cut down my pieces, it wasn’t enough. Some came forward to share some incredible moments they experienced. Others…not so much.
Wow, it can feel radical to act in accordance with my heart and body’s knowing. For my inner landscape, it reminds me of Jesus upending the tables in the temples. How much more might be possible if we truly gave ourselves permission to answer its call?
Showing up, simply. I didn’t get the message of how much I needed to stop until two days later trying to send out my weekly newsletter. Every step felt like I was crawling uphill on a sand dune. Each keyboard stroke was causing energy to further dissipate.
Still, I persisted. Every moment was an act of “Just.one.more.step.” Then, just when it was complete, Mailchimp told me I’d exceeded a limit. Exact words. That’s what it took for me to let go. It became clear that I was hitting a wall, the Universe was screaming “STOP!” and there was no use in exerting more energy. Dropping everything, I got in the car, drove to the rec center, and jumped in the pool. The icki-ness (the push-iness) left my body immediately. I emerged from my laps calm, with respect for dissipating energy.
To conserve energy, we must be aware of how we dissipate energy. ~ KrishnamurthiBefore I let go, it felt like I couldn’t make anything whole. All I could bring into form were strands and snippets. Yet It Was Enough. There was no newsletter last week. I showed up, others showed up anyway. It was calmly wonderful.
Snippets and Strands. This is my game plan for the rest of the summer: writing and showing up. No other effort. Learning how to keep things light.
I am grateful for this walk! I feel supported by the solidness and continuity of my playgroup, both professionally and personally. Feeling buoyed by watching my skills and clients flourish alongside each other in my one-on-one sessions. Many dreams are being realized as others are being breathed alive.
This summer I plan to share simply: snippets and strands from my creative pursuits. The image above is something I am playing with for my book.
Let’s all remember to listen to our bodies and heed the call of “ENOUGH.”