“Healing is open ended and endless.” So says @aquarian_dawn ‘s beautiful postcard. I carry the words with me as a mantra, dissolving boundaries with prayer and continuing to open my sore heart with the wonder and love present. Here in my last days at this home, with everything upended and no knowledge of how it will resolve, I find myself singing. In two days we will begin the 13 day collective ritual practice, and in this temporal swirl I feel unready—I don’t even have a candle to light or a spark to flame at present. Then the rain stoops to kiss me and the wind catches my breath and the hazel waves her turning leaves and I remember: we already have everything we need. As Gary Snyder said, “we can live on this earth without clothes or tools.”
It is the poets who speak to me in moments of endurance. Dorianne Laux said if you love a poem you should memorize it, take it inside yourself, make it part of the alchemy you are. I’m especially grateful for her instruction now as I can’t keep my beloved books. Here’s a poem Dorienne shared long ago, one I’ve made a part of myself, carrying it with me through many transitions. It is by Anna Akhmatova and her story is worth reading if you get a chance.
“Everything is plundered, betrayed, sold,
Death's great black wing scrapes the air,
Misery gnaws to the bone.
Why then do we not despair?
By day, from the surrounding woods,
cherries blow summer into town;
at night the deep transparent skies
glitter with new galaxies.
And the miraculous comes so close
to the ruined, dirty houses --
something not known to anyone at all,
but wild in our breast for centuries.”