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Advice to myself by Louise Erdrich

http://writersalmanac.publicradio.org/index.php?date=2007/05/29

Poem: “Advice to Myself” by Louise Erdrich, from Original Fire: Selected and New Poems. © Harper Collins Publishers, 2003. Reprinted with permission.(buy now)

Advice to Myself

Leave the dishes.
Let the celery rot in the bottom drawer of the refrigerator
and an earthen scum harden on the kitchen floor.
Leave the black crumbs in the bottom of the toaster.
Throw the cracked bowl out and don’t patch the cup.
Don’t patch anything. Don’t mend. Buy safety pins.
Don’t even sew on a button.
Let the wind have its way, then the earth
that invades as dust and then the dead
foaming up in gray rolls underneath the couch.
Talk to them. Tell them they are welcome.
Don’t keep all the pieces of the puzzles
or the doll’s tiny shoes in pairs, don’t worry
who uses whose toothbrush or if anything
matches, at all.
Except one word to another. Or a thought.
Pursue the authentic-decide first
what is authentic,
then go after it with all your heart.
Your heart, that place
you don’t even think of cleaning out.
That closet stuffed with savage mementos.
Don’t sort the paper clips from screws from saved baby teeth
or worry if we’re all eating cereal for dinner
again. Don’t answer the telephone, ever,
or weep over anything at all that breaks.
Pink molds will grow within those sealed cartons
in the refrigerator. Accept new forms of life
and talk to the dead
who drift in though the screened windows, who collect
patiently on the tops of food jars and books.
Recycle the mail, don’t read it, don’t read anything
except what destroys
the insulation between yourself and your experience
or what pulls down or what strikes at or what shatters
this ruse you call necessity.

Two and a half years ago, I was reminded of it today

An Unlikely Trio

Stir the soil and wet the ground to await the root,
stir the cauldron and scrape the sides to await the brew,
stir the hairs and part the knees to
await the seed.

Beltane flickers, white side of the veil to Samhain’s black,
Amid the grays of the in-between
The Ancients mix my blood, wash my marrow, and mend my flesh;
In pewter folds of silk spun with gossamer thread
The pulsing howls of orgasm echo the first wails of the newborn.

Through Life comes Death comes Life again.

Anubis to the left and Isis to the right,
masks and breath and scales and wings;
Embalming fluid in Cerridwen’s cauldron,
preserving not my body
that grows then sags and disintegrates like old paper;
but preserving my Self,
that glows then sings, folds and unfolds;

Origami of my Soul.

The damp scented air releases names
not quite spoken and barely heard,
mute and blind
the blade queries,
Truth revealed in mirrors and glitter bombs.

© Pamela V Jones, Beltane 2012

When the Dead tell Boneweaver Samhain is about the Living, too

This past week has been an interesting flip on what has traditionally been my Samhain focus. As I connected, sure and happy in this potent time, I was reminded the thin veil is transparent from both sides. As I stepped forth to be with my Peeps in what is usually a celebration of the endless cycle and the Great Dance with my Beloved and Mighty Dead, I was gently turned around, hands settling on my shoulders as They stood behind me, and directed to see Life from Their side and not the Otherworld from Life’s side.

I had occasion earlier in the week to hold space for 2 people, one an adult and one a child, as great pain washed over and around them. I let it flow over me and pushed it far out to join the ether-ocean where it could be transformed by Those on the Other Side of life. Though a few tears slipped down my cheeks, they were short-lived, my Job that day was to direct and push away, not absorb and join the emotional waves. Oh, I had them, those crashing waves, but I commanded them in-and-down, in-and-down, away from the upper world. I “lost it” as the saying goes, in a wee corner of my soul, boxed for a purpose until the work was done. I know me and I know how this goes. I knew I would “crash” the next day, full of fatigue and sorrow. I boxed those things because who I held space for are about as near and dear to me as is possible to be. and the way of being useful and showing my love in a situation where there is no quick fix was to just be there, and hold space.

The next day was a blur as it seemed every time I sat down I fell asleep, exhausted from the energy requirement of the day before. I do not regret holding that space. When loved ones hurt from things that are simply deeply painful and that only time can ease, one of the things we do in my tradition is hold gentle loving space for them. And so I did.

I sent 2 text messages in the subsequent 3 days, remaining mindful of the careful balance between allowing folks room to experience what only they can while not cutting them off altogether. So I held a much larger, more loose space in the following days. The fatigue lingered in lessening amounts each day up to yesterday, which was Samhain. I was away from home last night and I admit I checked my phone 3-4 times for my own peace of mind, but I sent no more messages, continuing to allow space for the other person and to allow myself space to celebrate Samhain in divinatory comradery.

It was a late night. I am once again sleep-deprived, but content. The message I received this Samhain? “Turn around. Look at the fullness of what Life holds from Our side. This is why we repeat – death, to life, to death, to life – to feel the richness from both sides.”

Through Their eyes,

Bone

Thoughts on Leadership

Reblog. Yes, this.

Amoret's avatara m o r e t

A leader goes first where they want you to go…and at the same time, a leader stands behind you. It is in holding this duality that shit gets done. It is in holding this duality that a leader disappears into the fabric of the moment.

A leader trusts that you will bring your excellence to the table, holds you up while you stretch past your comfort zone, and believes that you will touch the golden core that’s at the heart of you.

“A leader is best When people barely know he exists, When his work is done, his aim fulfilled, They will say: We did it ourselves.” ~Lao-Tzu

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American Gods

This topic has been running around my blogroll – who are the American Gods? This is separate from the NA traditions who have their own rituals and Gods that are specific to them. This is not appropriation or My-Gods-Can-Beat-Up-Your-Gods thing. This is a recognition that the Land has Spirits that are unique to the land, tied to no one people or trad. And Beings that came with our ancestors, hung around, named again or renamed.

Rivers, mountains, valleys, lakes, woodlands and plains. Have you met any? Did They name Themselves? I’d love to hear from you, sharing as much or as little as you are willing or able.

Anger as motivation

Reblog. So interesting. Gaiman and Pratchett and anger.

facingthefireswithin's avatarfacingthefireswithin

http://io9.com/a-while-back-neil-gaiman-heard-someone-said-of-terry-p-1640193369?fb_action_ids=868667169817592&fb_action_types=og.likes

I rushed to get the link up and neglected to put up my own thoughts. I feel there is nothing wrong in using anger as a motivator so long as you understand the risks and price of doing so. I have some friends who are athletic, and use anger to push themselves. I have many friends who are activists who use anger every day. So long as I am sure that they understand what that can cost them, I wish them the best of luck. Just be aware that you must not let that anger consume you. Then it becomes much darker and more dangerous.

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SCIENCE! – reblog

SCIENCE!.

Among other excellent points there is this gem:

If you ever have the audacity to tell me that my mental illness “was invented by Big Pharma to make money”… you try living with it for almost 35 years.  All of the willpower and positive thinking and Reiki and herbs in the world did not help me get better.  Buproprion and clonidine did.  You know why?  Because what I have is actually a brain disease involving brain chemistry, that can only be fixed by chemicals.  There’s this new thing, you might have heard of it, called science.  It works.  No really.