Tag: poetry workshop

Soul Sunday

******Dear Friends and Readers, I have an announcement to make. I am no longer going to be blogging on a daily basis. I have some fun, new personal projects going on, which are currently taking up a lot of my time and my attention. I made a vow when I embarked on our empty nest, to never have, nor make any relationships based on fear, obligation or guilt. And lately, bloggling on a daily basis has felt more like an obligation, and that has never been the spirit of the blog. I always want my writing to be done out of feelings: as an urgent need, or a deep joy, or an enticing pulling. At this time, I still plan to keep the blog open, so that I can make an occasional post here or there. I want to thank you all for your dedication to reading Adulting Second-Half and for your precious time and for your attention. Thank you for taking this journey with me, from the very beginning (summer of 2018!), or somewhere along the way. Thank you for your kindness and your validation and your thoughtful comments. Thank you from the deepest wells of my heart. Thank you for helping me to grow and for being a witness to my growth. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Sundays are devoted to poetry. Today’s poem by Mary Oliver is one of the best poems I have ever read:

Wild Geese | Mary Oliver
You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting–
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Here is the question of the day from 3000 Questions About Me:

2996. What do you think people undervalue today?

Soul Sunday

Good morning. Welcome to poetry day on the blog. Jane Hirshfield, a famous poet, says this is why we should write poetry: “One reason to write a poem is to flush from the deep thickets of the self some thought, feeling, comprehension, question, music, you didn’t know was in you, or in the world. Other forms of writing—scientific papers, political analysis, most journalism—attempt to capture and comprehend something known. Poetry is a release of something previously unknown into the visible. You write to invite that, to make of yourself a gathering of the unexpected and, with luck, of the unexpectable.” Below is my poem for the day. Write a poem today. I dare you.

“grief crests equally in times of joy and in times of difficulty . . . “ – Chelsea Bieker

Stirrings

Sometimes the ingredients get tossed about

When you had no desire to cook them in your mind

You are left to deal with the churning mess

Of things you thought you had left behind.

I cooked this already. I stewed in it. The meal is done.

Not really, though. It was only half-baked, silly.

In some ways, this recipe has only just begun. . . .

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Here is the question of the day from 3000 Questions About Me:

400. What’s your favorite accent?

Soul Sunday

Good morning!! Rabbit Rabbit Rabbit Have a happy last third of the year! I’ve really enjoyed 2024 so far. Have you? I had a delicious morning of rest and respite that I really needed. I wish for you, exactly what you need this holiday weekend.

Sundays are devoted to poetry on the blog. Here is my poem for today:

There’s a game I play,

where you try to fill an empty space

with dropping fruits, coming from the sky.

The big fruits, are huge and exciting,

but they take up space quickly.

Leaving a lot of blank empty space around,

Only a few rare large fruits of plentifulness

The tiny beautiful berries that drop from above

Make room for more and more and more fruit,

Efficiently filling the space with as many tiny driblets of joy

That can be squeezed into where they are being dropped,

Leaving no empty space for anything but colorful fruits of joy.

Perhaps it really is the little joys that fill us up to fullness,

A constant trickle of happiness is true and renewable satiation.

Whereas when we rely only on the big harvests of happiness,

We leave a lot of empty space to be filled with sorrow and fear.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Here is the question of the day from 3000 Questions About Me:

999. How often do you self-reflect? (um, like always)

Soul Sunday

Sundays are devoted to poetry on the blog. I was inspired to write the poem below when I briefly skimmed some posts on X that said that a scathing article was written about Dolly Parton by The Federalist. I didn’t read the article, but I know that Dolly Parton has given millions to charities all over the country. She is beloved by her fans, all over the world. She has put so much good and happiness and beauty and creativity and acceptance and LOVE into the world that we all experience today. Roger Ebert, the movie critic said this about her, “In Dallas for the premier of ‘9 to 5’, I had an uncanny experience, and on the plane home to Chicago I confessed it to Siskel: I had been granted a private half hour with Dolly Parton, and as we spoke I was filled with a strange ethereal grace. This was not spiritual, nor was it sexual. It was healing and comforting. Gene listened and said, “Roger, I felt the exact same thing during my interview with her.” We looked at each other. What did this mean? Neither one of us ever felt that feeling again. From time to time we would refer to it in wonder.”

Do people float in your presence or do they sink?

Do you make people feel special? Do you make them think?

Do people feel loved by you or are you only courting love?

When people are with you, do they feel touched from above?

Do you focus on the good stuff or do you nitpick for the flaw?

After a time being with you, do people get a sense of awe?

And when I say “awe”, I don’t mean for you, I mean for themselves,

Like you’ve helped them lift their best selves, off from dusty shelves.

Some people are so well-loved because that’s all that they give away,

Love in every which direction, each and every day.

credit: @alioop326, X

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Here is the question of the day from 3000 Questions About Me:

2530. What is your favorite soup?

Soul Sunday

Sundays are devoted to poetry on the blog. Today’s poem is written by Nathaniel Bard:

Quiet Gratitude

Fields of white stones, each a silent tale,
Flags flutter softly in the mourning gale.
Honor their memory, sacrifices cast,
In quiet gratitude, forever vast.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Here is the question of the day from 3000 Questions About Me:

2158. Do you think a person can always depend on the kindness of strangers?

Soul Sunday

Good morning. Welcome to poetry day on the blog. My friend, who is an English teacher, texted this poem (shown below) to a group of us who have been friends since we were eighteen years old. It is one of the most lovely poems I have read in a long time. Enjoy.

BENEATH THE SWEATER AND THE SKIN

by Jeannette Encinias

How many years of beauty do I have left?

she asks me.

How many more do you want?

Here. Here is 34. Here is 50.

When you are 80 years old

and your beauty rises in ways

your cells cannot even imagine now

and your wild bones grow luminous and

ripe, having carried the weight

of a passionate life.

When your hair is aflame

with winter

and you have decades of

learning and leaving and loving

sewn into

the corners of your eyes

and your children come home

to find their own history

in your face.

When you know what it feels like to fail

ferociously

and have gained the

capacity

to rise and rise and rise again.

When you can make your tea

on a quiet and ridiculously lonely afternoon

and still have a song in your heart

Queen owl wings beating

beneath the cotton of your sweater.

Because your beauty began there

beneath the sweater and the skin,

remember?

This is when I will take you

into my arms and coo

YOU BRAVE AND GLORIOUS THING

you’ve come so far.

I see you.

Your beauty is breathtaking.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Here is the question of the day from 3000 Questions About Me:

2899. Have you ever wished upon a star?

Soul Sunday

Welcome to poetry day on the blog. Sundays are devoted to poetry here. Emily Dickinson’s poems were not widely published until after she died. She was known as a recluse and as a rebel. One of her most famous poems is below. I like it. I’ve never quite understood the desire for fame (admiration, sure, but fame – No thank you.) I believe that fame would limit your individual freedom so much, and also make you feel quite misunderstood and not quite “seen” despite being ever so seen. But honestly, I wouldn’t know. I’m nobody! Who are you?

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Here is the question of the day from 3000 Questions About Me:

666. What is one thing you do that you consider practical?

Soul Sunday

Good morning. Welcome to poetry day on the blog. I love Sundays. Sunday is the “breathe out deeply” day of the week. Whatever happened during the week, take in the good stuff and let go of the rest. Settle yourself with ease and prepare yourself for the fresh new start of a beautiful new week. Write a poem today. Poetry helps with the process of letting go. Poetry helps with the process of going within. Poetry helps to reach deeper meaning and understanding. You are worth a poem today. You are worth a poem everyday. Here is my own poem for today:

The most beautiful souls in the world

Are experts at giving away

What they once so desperately needed.

They figured out how to harvest

What was deeply implanted inside

And they grew it, and as it flowered with fruit,

With the help of other kindred souls,

They pried open the doors,

and they let it all flow out,

To help cleanse the world of its pain.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Here is the question of the day from 3000 Questions About Me:

1732. What is/was your blessing in disguise?

Soul Sunday

“Experience becoming . . . make your soul grow . . . . do it for the rest of your lives.” Did you read the assignment that Kurt Vonnegut, the author of Slaughterhouse-Five and other esteemed works, gave to these high school students in 2006? (Kurt Vonnegut died about six months after this letter was written) Today, on poetry day on the blog, let’s do his assignment. I’ll do it, if you do it: “Write a six line poem, about anything, but rhymed. No fair tennis without a net. Make it as good as you possibly can. But don’t tell anybody what you’re doing. Don’t show it or recite it to anybody . . . . Tear it up into teeny-weeny pieces, and discard them into widely separated recepticals.”

Why should we do this assignment? Well, Kurt Vonnegut said this will be the outcome: “You will find that you have been gloriously rewarded for your poem. You have experienced becoming, learned a lot more about what’s inside you, and you have made your soul grow.”

But I suspect that you, my dear beloved readers, already know this. Bless you. I imagine that your poem is amazing. The poetry of you, already is amazing. Your soul is growing beautifully. It becomes you.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Here is the question of the day from 3000 Questions About Me:

1891. Have you ever stood up for anyone?

Soul Sunday

“I was reading the dictionary. I thought it was a poem about everything.” -Steven Wright

Welcome to poetry day on the blog. How is the culmination of another summer in the rearview mirror feeling to you? Write a poem about it. Poetry can be your own private language with yourself. Your soul has the decipher code.

Here is the poem I wrote for today:

“Knee Deep in Mud”

Summer sometimes feels like walking through sludge

I want to fly but the air’s too heavy

And so I make imperceptible moves

Hoping that I am headed somewhere

Other than where I am stuck in the mud.

But then I get a gust of momentum

And I look back and I realized I have come further

Than I realized. There must have been mud in my eye.

Or a cloud over my spirit. Because there’s a trail of footprints,

I have left behind me. And the visions that lie ahead,

Are getting larger and clearer and more distinct every day.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.