Friday, August 14, 2015

Letter to myself

I posted this poem on face book a few days ago and got a lot of responses and comments of support, relating and encouragement both on the page and as I ran into people in my life.  Again and again I am surprised by how sharing pain leads to deep connection.

late night early morning writing;
A letter to myself and anyone reading this
A prayer
When I wake up like this 
In the middle of the night
With loathing and self doubt
Afraid
When fear takes over that I have no savings. Retirement, IRA
May I remember that I don’t believe in perpetual growth and hoarding and interests on the backs of others labor.
When I judge my lack of success and accomplishment, may I respect
The times I was there
To hug my sister
To clean up the vomit and diarrhea from the bath room walls and floor
of a sick friend
To cook
Healthy food
To play with children
My own
And strangers
To look at the worms they showed me
And to marvel at the wonders of dirt and the sweetness of tomatoes
The treasure of potatoes.
When I judge the wasted hours
May I remember the joy of dancing
The radiance of painting with orange
The sunflower seeds
And the dog petted
The comfort needed
The rest and recovery
When I see all the choices I made
That lead us here
Floating, isolated, separate
The choices we didn’t understand
The ones I don’t want to sing about,
When I hide my flaws
Judge you
Your use of drugs
May I see again with eyes of compassion
The pain we felt
That sent us down these paths
And as we climb on the road
The dirt clay road
With clumps and holes, rocks
May we walk, may we climb
Together
Back up to truth?
Back down to connection?
Oh sing and cry with me now
For we are so beautiful
And injured
I long so much to only love you
And I am so full of fear
I am here only to live
And die
May I feel safe in the face of imminent doom
Oh dark mother
Wise father
As I slither through this tangled life
Spaghetti clump worm pile
Of glory and rightness
Pain and doubt
Mother hold me,
hold me tight and long.
Father tell me
Tell me
It will all be all right.

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Here is my prescription for the vast majority of us: You need to be in a relatively safe place outside with others