I am becoming such a fan Julie! I love the idea of the brain in service to the heart, because it so neatly turns some bad ideas from my upbringing upside- down.
Thanks Meghan! Yes exactly - "it so neatly turns some bad ideas from my upbringing upside- down." The heart brings in a fuller, deeper and wider embrace.
This is a truly beautiful poem, Cynthia. Each line conencts to me with tenderness, wisdom and understanding. It is a perfect poem to welcome Autumn again here in the Northern Hemisphere.
I looked for courage on the mountain top, its peak clearly defined, bold and triumphant
She lowered my gaze down, down to the valley
To the hidden roots beneath the uneven ground
Right down within the tough, muddy earth as I stepped on in uncertainty
I am here, she whispered, I am here.
I looked for courage in the headlines
The visible platforms and acclaimed places, the famed places
She ushered me back to the unfinished spaces, away from the noise and the certainty.
I’m not in the credits or the limelight,
I am here, she whispered, I am here.
I looked for courage at the medal ceremony, where the awards were being generously announced
She took my eyes away from the honours list and the finished products
To the ordinary moments of prolonged plodding, quiet trial, discomfort and monotony
I am here, she whispered, I am here.
I looked for courage in the figure heads, the influencers, those with fame and power,
She adjusted the lense of my vision from distant to so very near;
To my neighbourhood, my household, my closest relationships.
The quiet community connections grown slowly and gently.
I am her, she whispered, I am here.
I looked for courage among the certain things and the future ‘big things’ and the fearless things,
She held my uncertain being in this moment, my feet newly aware of the ground beneath them as I stood in the dark.
I am already here, she whispered, I am within, I am deep beneath the layers of trying-to-be, I am rooted in your values, your heart’s conviction, your stirrings and longings, the sacred space of your unsteady steps.
I am here.
This was the last poem I published on Substack coincidentally!…
YES to "I am already here, she whispered, I am within, I am deep beneath the layers of trying-to-be, I am rooted in your values, your heart’s conviction, your stirrings and longings, the sacred space of your unsteady steps." Yes, She is right here! Always right here!
Yes to that and also maybe a sense of separation. I ponder at times if we as a collective have taken individuation too far. To the point that we have created a persona that feels superior to the rest of life. Thus objectification. Bringing me back to being thankful for the sweet whispers of Her.
Oooh yes, separation. That’s a more apt word that invisibility. And it takes into account a feeling of separation from ourselves too - love that, thank you x
This is beautiful and so full of compassion and hope. I love the flow of each line, and the soothing nature of your poem, prayer-like and much more, too. I love and appreciate these lines:
"She ushered me back to the unfinished spaces, away from the noise and the certainty.
I’m not in the credits or the limelight,
I am here, she whispered, I am here."
The way you show the heart as being not only in the places of acclaim, triumph and "greatness" but there in the quiet whispers is deeply moving. Thank you Ange.
Sorry, but the first thing that came to mind was those immortal words spoken by Burt Lahr:
"Courage! What makes a king out of a slave? Courage! What makes the flag on the mast to wave? Courage! What makes the elephant charge his tusk in the misty mist, or the dusky dusk? What makes the muskrat guard his musk? Courage! What makes the sphinx the seventh wonder? Courage! What makes the dawn come up like thunder? Courage! What makes the Hottentot so hot? What puts the "ape" in apricot? What have they got that I ain't got?"
Loved this Mary Beth! "Let them not mistake your tenderness as weakness for it is our biggest strength." Exclamation point on that one. And with all the others that followed.
Wow! I love how you used the season and nature to mark time and the reality of how it felt. I assume this is your journey? Thank you for sharing! You did it!
Thank you! I try to get outside every day, and I find a lot of comfort in the changing of the seasons. Getting through a summer of intense medical procedures was so hard, but it almost feels like it took no time at all. Time is weird like that!
Loved this poem Larry! "Let the broken pieces soothe and heal and appreciate the journeys through shadows that have made you whole again." I can deeply relate here...
Thank you Kim! In our social justice education trainings in the early 2000's, we use to speak of Head, Hands and Heart as a part of the work of change. I still use it in different ways, and glad it found its way to the poem.
Carrie, this is particularly meaningful to me since I have been learning that the heart is our strongest electromagnetic organ. It transmits powerful, loving signals. And some how I manage to ignore it as my true voice. Sadly, it is as though I am trying to push it out of my body trying to pretend it is not my home. How can I ignore such vitality. Your poem brings me back to myself. 💖
This is beautiful ♥️ I know that I’ve betrayed my heart before and I also know the pain of that betrayal. Doesn’t mean I won’t do it again, but it’s all about learning to listen to that still, small voice. It isn’t imposing like the ego, it’s soft and wait to be heard. Thank you for the reminder.
This ‘letter from Heart’ was written in response to a prompt to write about a part of the body from another writing community.
Warning- it’s long.
From the heart….Kim, why do you hide from me, run from me, avoid me? You give our friend Brain so much of your time and energy. You are always thinking, even now as you write, does this sound good? Is this true? Is this stupid? This is stupid, you are not a writer. You have nothing to say; you’re just full of other peoples thoughts.
You know a lot in your head but what about me? I have a lot to say to you, a lot for us to process. What do you think will happen if you let me in? If you let the feelings out? If you feel? Why are you afraid of pain? Why don’t you trust me? I won’t hurt you; it might hurt though.
Do you feel me beating faster now as you consider this- holding your breath, tensing your shoulders. Your head aches because I can’t get enough blood up there. Your chest hurts and its hard to take those deep breaths lungs just gave you in your Pre-write meditation. Your response to me, to feelings, to pain is Fight or flight. You have a trauma response, panic, whenever I ask for more of your time, or even some of your time. You flee- get busy, sleep, watch tv, eat candy, bite your nails- anything not to feel.
Let's find out together, with brain, when you first started fleeing and why. What were you afraid of then? What made you feel unsafe. How can I assure you now, that you are safe, that you can let me in. You're not that child anymore feeling insecure about your parents’ drinking, anger, fighting, passing out, driving.
You were on high alert, not knowing what you’d come home to after school, what dad would come home like, what would tip off his anger, when. Whether he’d hurt your mom or brothers. Whether he’d leave.
Your radar was always on, scanning, anticipating, preempting potential conflict by being helpful, being good.
Somehow you managed to avoid being the brunt of that anger, by not adding any fuel and trying to prevent any fuel by taking care of your brothers, keeping them in check, and picking up mom’s drunken slack.
I broke for the hurt you endured and the hurt your mom and brothers endured. The time your dad threatened your mom and dropped a plank on her foot, and the many times he yelled at your brothers. Especially the time he got angry at them at dinner and put their dishes in the back hall and made them eat like dogs. How scary and humiliating for them.
I can sense the guilt you feel for not standing up for them/ to him. Wanting to yell ‘Dad, stop! That’s not fair, leave them alone!’ or ‘take your hands off mom, you’re an asshole!” Or in their monthly fights, over the checkbook/ spending, respond with ‘Dad, why are you so angry? Don’t talk that way to mom!”
I don’t remember details like brain does, but I remember how scared you were when the police came to the house after a dinner party, dad arguing in the street with them, afraid they’d take him to jail. And the night he fell, drunk, in the living room; or all the times he passed out in the arm chair.
Going back to our 2nd home, there was the time he lied to you about smoking- actually, just hid it from you when you came downstairs after bed, and the time he left after a fight with mom.
I even remember your fear in our 1st house, hearing your parents fighting and worrying about their drinking. I vaguely recall overtaxing myself one night when dad had the fight with the backyard neighbor. You were only 3, 4, 5 years old! But I don’t remember you feeling unloved or mistreated, and I remember fun times you had with your dad- airplane rides, reading, board games.
How could you stand up to him, when he was so unpredictable and you’d seen his rage. It makes sense that you would avoid being on the receiving end of that pain. The 2 times you did risk sharing your feelings, fears, hurt, wishes with him, he didn’t accept them. In fact, he rejected them, and thus rejected you. I recall pumping extra courage in both instances: in high school when you all confronted his drinking, and in college when you tried to share your feelings with him about his drinking and the divorce. In the intervention, he physically left. Oh, I remember those tears. How scared you were. How hurt you were. The 2nd time, similar to 1st, he was defensive, ‘I’m sorry you feel that way, but I did my best and I've moved on. You can move on too or not.’
And then there’s your mom’s death…Damn, I’m aching now, and I feel you constricting me- not letting the anger or hurt or sadness leave your chest cavity that houses me. You spend way more energy containing me than it would take to let me release. Kim, I wish you could say ‘I’m sad/ hurt/ scared,’ and let me help you release some of this pressure, just a few tears. Please trust me, we can go at your pace. Whenever you want to stop, slow down, take a break, just tell me. You can set a timer, or time of the week that’s just for you and me. This is a good start, thanks for taking time to listen. That’s all I’m asking for. I don’t want you to suffer, you’re not wrong or failing or unfaithful.
All brain has helped you understand IS true and you have done a lot of work to heal. But maybe now, you can thank him for his protection, and offer him some much needed time off. He’s overworked! Brain and I can tag team. You need us both. You just need more of me. It’s ok to be scared but I will keep you safe and well.
COURAGE
.
The heart has a brain!
Did you know that?
Its own nervous system.
.
Yet my whole life I have been taught
to listen to the brain in my head.
Ongoing views, logic and thoughts.
.
Over the years though, I have come to see
the deeper coherence and wisdom of the heart.
An intimate poetry of devotion and love.
.
It takes courage to be a heretic.
To not fall in line with the status quo.
Being a dissident, freethinking from the heart.
.
Understanding it’s more about the mind
being of service and yielding to the heart.
Not the other way around.
Similar thoughts in my poem. Brain/ thinking dominate. Protecting me from pain, fear. Learning to give heart space and voice.
I am becoming such a fan Julie! I love the idea of the brain in service to the heart, because it so neatly turns some bad ideas from my upbringing upside- down.
Thanks Meghan! Yes exactly - "it so neatly turns some bad ideas from my upbringing upside- down." The heart brings in a fuller, deeper and wider embrace.
This is lovely Julie. I line the contrast of brain and heart, and the notion that the heart has a brain. Thank you for sharing from the heart. ❤️
Thanks Larry! ❤️
My sweet
beating heart,
not a fist but a
flower, not a
stone but a
dancer's drum:
thank you.
*
I'm sorry that
I have not yet
learned to always
trust you:
you falter, sometimes,
or I falter, or
we falter together,
coming to terms
with a new dis-
ease.
*
But even so,
I believe you to be
strong. I know
my task is love,
and that love takes
more courage than
all the fear or
hate combined.
Your tentative beat,
then, that little
murmur-rhythm: maybe
it's making room
for something no less
sure and true:
a love that listens—
an assurance that sees
beyond itself—
a strength that
welcomes other
voices in the song.
Lovely.
Beautiful ❤️
This is a truly beautiful poem, Cynthia. Each line conencts to me with tenderness, wisdom and understanding. It is a perfect poem to welcome Autumn again here in the Northern Hemisphere.
Thank you. <3
C O U R A G E
I looked for courage on the mountain top, its peak clearly defined, bold and triumphant
She lowered my gaze down, down to the valley
To the hidden roots beneath the uneven ground
Right down within the tough, muddy earth as I stepped on in uncertainty
I am here, she whispered, I am here.
I looked for courage in the headlines
The visible platforms and acclaimed places, the famed places
She ushered me back to the unfinished spaces, away from the noise and the certainty.
I’m not in the credits or the limelight,
I am here, she whispered, I am here.
I looked for courage at the medal ceremony, where the awards were being generously announced
She took my eyes away from the honours list and the finished products
To the ordinary moments of prolonged plodding, quiet trial, discomfort and monotony
I am here, she whispered, I am here.
I looked for courage in the figure heads, the influencers, those with fame and power,
She adjusted the lense of my vision from distant to so very near;
To my neighbourhood, my household, my closest relationships.
The quiet community connections grown slowly and gently.
I am her, she whispered, I am here.
I looked for courage among the certain things and the future ‘big things’ and the fearless things,
She held my uncertain being in this moment, my feet newly aware of the ground beneath them as I stood in the dark.
I am already here, she whispered, I am within, I am deep beneath the layers of trying-to-be, I am rooted in your values, your heart’s conviction, your stirrings and longings, the sacred space of your unsteady steps.
I am here.
This was the last poem I published on Substack coincidentally!…
https://open.substack.com/pub/angedisbury/p/courage?r=2qii2&utm_medium=ios
YES to "I am already here, she whispered, I am within, I am deep beneath the layers of trying-to-be, I am rooted in your values, your heart’s conviction, your stirrings and longings, the sacred space of your unsteady steps." Yes, She is right here! Always right here!
Yes 💛. I wonder if the biggest threat to courage isn’t fear but the feeling of invisibility?…
Yes to that and also maybe a sense of separation. I ponder at times if we as a collective have taken individuation too far. To the point that we have created a persona that feels superior to the rest of life. Thus objectification. Bringing me back to being thankful for the sweet whispers of Her.
Oooh yes, separation. That’s a more apt word that invisibility. And it takes into account a feeling of separation from ourselves too - love that, thank you x
Beautiful! All the places we look and we had it the whole time! Like the cowardly Lion?!
This is beautiful and so full of compassion and hope. I love the flow of each line, and the soothing nature of your poem, prayer-like and much more, too. I love and appreciate these lines:
"She ushered me back to the unfinished spaces, away from the noise and the certainty.
I’m not in the credits or the limelight,
I am here, she whispered, I am here."
The way you show the heart as being not only in the places of acclaim, triumph and "greatness" but there in the quiet whispers is deeply moving. Thank you Ange.
What a lovely comment. Thank you Larry 🙏
My pleasure, Ange. Thank you!
Sorry, but the first thing that came to mind was those immortal words spoken by Burt Lahr:
"Courage! What makes a king out of a slave? Courage! What makes the flag on the mast to wave? Courage! What makes the elephant charge his tusk in the misty mist, or the dusky dusk? What makes the muskrat guard his musk? Courage! What makes the sphinx the seventh wonder? Courage! What makes the dawn come up like thunder? Courage! What makes the Hottentot so hot? What puts the "ape" in apricot? What have they got that I ain't got?"
This was a nostalgia trip for sure. 😊
Ahhh the cowardly lion who found his courage!
With a woof and a woof and a royal growl - woof.
True great words from a favorite character!
The idea of today's poem as a love letter to my heart was an incredible gift ❤️
...
Let them not mistake your tenderness
as weakness for it is our biggest strength.
How could we stand in awe
of the poetry of the sky if
not for softness?
How could we show up day
after exhausting say to the front
row of our children's joy if
not for empathy?
How could we continue to notice and
make beauty in these
soul crushing times if
not for wonder?
Hold that tenderness, awe, softness,
joy, empathy, and wonder like a beacon -
tightly and at arm's length,
so others can sense sense it
and draw near.
Loved this Mary Beth! "Let them not mistake your tenderness as weakness for it is our biggest strength." Exclamation point on that one. And with all the others that followed.
I wrote a blessing for myself as it relates to a larger project that I am working on.
Courage to peer into the past
Courage to face the fears of the past
Courage to uncover what the past
has used to harm us
May what is secret be uncovered
May the God of courage be with me.
Great idea! Thanks for sharing. I need that courage in my writing about my past
This is very nice, Sarah. Many blessings to you!
Seems like I am always apologizing to my heart.
I'm sorry, dear heart,
for all the slammed doors
the spiked moats
the dungeons without light.
I have never known how
to keep a thing
so easily shattered.
So I overcorrect
when I should give away.
It is a wonder you've
never abandoned me.
I am trying to be brave-
help me to be brave-
I will need to borrow your brave-
to hold these birds of hope in open hands.
This is beautiful. Your whole poem resoantes, and these lines struck me right in the heart center:
"I have never known how
to keep a thing
so easily shattered.
So I overcorrect
when I should give away."
Wow, what a beautiful work of art!
Aw, thanks. <3
Yep those lines!
Beautiful Meghan!
‘as you tenderly guide me home
every time I lose my way or
find that things are harder than
I’d hoped they’d be.’
Beautiful Kaitlin, the whole thing 🫶🏽
I said, "I can't do this"
But three months later
and the cottonwood leaves are barely yellow
and the geese are flying
and I did it.
It was summer then and it's summer now,
the air fetid with humidity—
but I hear autumn coming, and the leaves turning like magic
and the leaves turning like pages
and I feel like I can breathe again.
I made it.
It didn't feel like courage.
It felt like crying from my gut
and taking naps
and drinking Gatorade
and begging my veins to swell
so the nurse's needle could find it.
It didn't feel like the monster it was in my head.
It felt like a slow grind
like a gristmill
like teeth in the night
and suddenly, on the other end,
sunlight.
I did it.
It didn't feel like courage
but it was.
Wow! I love how you used the season and nature to mark time and the reality of how it felt. I assume this is your journey? Thank you for sharing! You did it!
Thank you! I try to get outside every day, and I find a lot of comfort in the changing of the seasons. Getting through a summer of intense medical procedures was so hard, but it almost feels like it took no time at all. Time is weird like that!
Me too!
I am finally feeling well enough to eke out a poem. Thank you for the courage to do so, Kaitlin!
Heart Song
^
Rest here,
my tender, mature heart.
Let the broken pieces soothe and heal
and appreciate the journeys through shadows
that have made you whole again.
I am grateful for the ways you have
shown me how to be open,
to be kind,
to share compassion
and to know love,
even in its leaving.
Grateful, too, for you being the balance
between head and hands,
the thinking and the doing,
and lead me in ways of just being.
There are more shadows ahead,
but the love that has gone in and out
sustains me, gives me courage,
enlightens the path home to love.
Loved this poem Larry! "Let the broken pieces soothe and heal and appreciate the journeys through shadows that have made you whole again." I can deeply relate here...
Thank you Julie. Blessings to you!
Thanks for sharing! I love the balance between head and hands, thinking and doing; leading you into just being ❤️
Thank you Kim! In our social justice education trainings in the early 2000's, we use to speak of Head, Hands and Heart as a part of the work of change. I still use it in different ways, and glad it found its way to the poem.
Carrie, this is particularly meaningful to me since I have been learning that the heart is our strongest electromagnetic organ. It transmits powerful, loving signals. And some how I manage to ignore it as my true voice. Sadly, it is as though I am trying to push it out of my body trying to pretend it is not my home. How can I ignore such vitality. Your poem brings me back to myself. 💖
This is beautiful ♥️ I know that I’ve betrayed my heart before and I also know the pain of that betrayal. Doesn’t mean I won’t do it again, but it’s all about learning to listen to that still, small voice. It isn’t imposing like the ego, it’s soft and wait to be heard. Thank you for the reminder.
Dearest Bug -
Oh how proud I am of you
Pushing through life shining bright to those around you
Finding love and handing it out just the same
Making the world dance because life is too short
A lesson you had to learn, my dear, too soon
I am sorry
Oh Bug - how I wish I could be there for you
My heart
You need someone to take care of you
I see it from afar, I feel it
I left and you stepped up, no one stepped in for you, how brave
The toll it has taken these past 20 years
Is a chasm of suffering and emptiness
I am sorry
Bug - please hear me when I say
You deserve time
You need the space
Take the rest, believe me, I never did
Recharge and find balance, remember that?
You have the tools, I see them
I am sorry
Please Bug, show yourself the compassion
Find the grace
I am here holding it all for you, so you can rest
So you can heal
I beg this of you, for you, your friends, family
I am sorry this is your thing
I am sorry it has to be this way
I am sorry I am not there
I am sorry I left when you were young
I am sorry things have never been the same
I am sorry the burden fell on you
I am sorry I never met your partner
I am sorry I never met your babies
I am sorry
I am sorry
I am sorry
But Bug, please please,
Find the courage to take the step.
I love you
"it's a ghost"
"‘Take courage!"
" It is I."
"Don't be afraid"
matthew scribes.
Here,
hold my beer,
peter mumbles,
as he climbs out of the boat.
(sorry,late,went fishing with uncle harvey yesterday)
This ‘letter from Heart’ was written in response to a prompt to write about a part of the body from another writing community.
Warning- it’s long.
From the heart….Kim, why do you hide from me, run from me, avoid me? You give our friend Brain so much of your time and energy. You are always thinking, even now as you write, does this sound good? Is this true? Is this stupid? This is stupid, you are not a writer. You have nothing to say; you’re just full of other peoples thoughts.
You know a lot in your head but what about me? I have a lot to say to you, a lot for us to process. What do you think will happen if you let me in? If you let the feelings out? If you feel? Why are you afraid of pain? Why don’t you trust me? I won’t hurt you; it might hurt though.
Do you feel me beating faster now as you consider this- holding your breath, tensing your shoulders. Your head aches because I can’t get enough blood up there. Your chest hurts and its hard to take those deep breaths lungs just gave you in your Pre-write meditation. Your response to me, to feelings, to pain is Fight or flight. You have a trauma response, panic, whenever I ask for more of your time, or even some of your time. You flee- get busy, sleep, watch tv, eat candy, bite your nails- anything not to feel.
Let's find out together, with brain, when you first started fleeing and why. What were you afraid of then? What made you feel unsafe. How can I assure you now, that you are safe, that you can let me in. You're not that child anymore feeling insecure about your parents’ drinking, anger, fighting, passing out, driving.
You were on high alert, not knowing what you’d come home to after school, what dad would come home like, what would tip off his anger, when. Whether he’d hurt your mom or brothers. Whether he’d leave.
Your radar was always on, scanning, anticipating, preempting potential conflict by being helpful, being good.
Somehow you managed to avoid being the brunt of that anger, by not adding any fuel and trying to prevent any fuel by taking care of your brothers, keeping them in check, and picking up mom’s drunken slack.
I broke for the hurt you endured and the hurt your mom and brothers endured. The time your dad threatened your mom and dropped a plank on her foot, and the many times he yelled at your brothers. Especially the time he got angry at them at dinner and put their dishes in the back hall and made them eat like dogs. How scary and humiliating for them.
I can sense the guilt you feel for not standing up for them/ to him. Wanting to yell ‘Dad, stop! That’s not fair, leave them alone!’ or ‘take your hands off mom, you’re an asshole!” Or in their monthly fights, over the checkbook/ spending, respond with ‘Dad, why are you so angry? Don’t talk that way to mom!”
I don’t remember details like brain does, but I remember how scared you were when the police came to the house after a dinner party, dad arguing in the street with them, afraid they’d take him to jail. And the night he fell, drunk, in the living room; or all the times he passed out in the arm chair.
Going back to our 2nd home, there was the time he lied to you about smoking- actually, just hid it from you when you came downstairs after bed, and the time he left after a fight with mom.
I even remember your fear in our 1st house, hearing your parents fighting and worrying about their drinking. I vaguely recall overtaxing myself one night when dad had the fight with the backyard neighbor. You were only 3, 4, 5 years old! But I don’t remember you feeling unloved or mistreated, and I remember fun times you had with your dad- airplane rides, reading, board games.
How could you stand up to him, when he was so unpredictable and you’d seen his rage. It makes sense that you would avoid being on the receiving end of that pain. The 2 times you did risk sharing your feelings, fears, hurt, wishes with him, he didn’t accept them. In fact, he rejected them, and thus rejected you. I recall pumping extra courage in both instances: in high school when you all confronted his drinking, and in college when you tried to share your feelings with him about his drinking and the divorce. In the intervention, he physically left. Oh, I remember those tears. How scared you were. How hurt you were. The 2nd time, similar to 1st, he was defensive, ‘I’m sorry you feel that way, but I did my best and I've moved on. You can move on too or not.’
And then there’s your mom’s death…Damn, I’m aching now, and I feel you constricting me- not letting the anger or hurt or sadness leave your chest cavity that houses me. You spend way more energy containing me than it would take to let me release. Kim, I wish you could say ‘I’m sad/ hurt/ scared,’ and let me help you release some of this pressure, just a few tears. Please trust me, we can go at your pace. Whenever you want to stop, slow down, take a break, just tell me. You can set a timer, or time of the week that’s just for you and me. This is a good start, thanks for taking time to listen. That’s all I’m asking for. I don’t want you to suffer, you’re not wrong or failing or unfaithful.
All brain has helped you understand IS true and you have done a lot of work to heal. But maybe now, you can thank him for his protection, and offer him some much needed time off. He’s overworked! Brain and I can tag team. You need us both. You just need more of me. It’s ok to be scared but I will keep you safe and well.
Love, Heart