Wishing You

On my New Year’s birthday, I read this poem by Ana Lisa de Jong that spoke to me, really spoke to me. For it’s been some year. Not just any old year. Not a typical year for anyone on the planet. You know what I mean.

Maybe you too have suffered trauma, a disquieted soul, deep grief. A dark night. A dark and stormy night. I joked with my friend Meg yesterday about cliches and how, yes, it was the best of times and the worst of times. The worst of years for obvious reasons.

The best of years because God and I together moved this mountain – mountain-moving: a cliché I couldn’t outdo because of the magnitude of progress this old packrat made decluttering a whole monstrosity of a house, upstairs and down. The silver lining in confinement.

But back to grief and loss, and why Ana Lisa’s poem matters. It matters because she so eloquently expresses what we all know deep down. That the little things, things we often take for granted in our everyday existence, are infinitely the most important. And only through sorrow does this revelation arise. Here it is, Ana Lisa’s poem about letting go and holding on, words to ponder this new year, words that comforted me this side of my deepest grief. 

WISHING YOU

I wish you better.

Whatever you didn’t get,

lost.

Whatever in this last year

you would hope to forget,

I wish you amnesia.

If not forever, just for the time it takes

to imagine, to place new hope

step by step.

And, whatever in this last year you did not receive,

or rather lost as something unable to be

kept in the hands -

I wish you better.

And if not better,

then a balm for your former pains.

A new view,

out through mist dissolving,

curtains drawn back to receive the sun.

Yes, I wish you that thing,

wish you whatever your heart,

if it could find a name,

would place its value on -

that illusive prize

which makes us hope in every new year’s

unknowns,

as though this year might

be the year we arrive at it.

And yet, I think it’s not until

in hindsight,

when we look back,

we see how all along we owned it.

These treasures of the heart

undefined.

And that it’s our losses,

the things that have strummed the heart’s strings,

that were the important things.

Which is why I don’t wish you

amnesia, at least not as much as I do

memory -

and wisdom to treasure,

and recognise again

what are the main things.

That we might not leave them

behind.

 

Ana Lisa de Jong

Living Tree Poetry

January 1, 2021

 Art: Andrea Kowch

What little things have you come to recognize as infinitely the most important?

 

 

How to ruin big sister’s date night

They were quite the little women, my mother, Nellie, and her four sisters: Lizzie, Beulah, Mabel, and Kathleen. She also had three brothers: Henry, Rex, and Johnny. But today I’m focusing on the little women.

 An Invitation by Andrea Kowch

Mischief makers. Innocent mischief, but mischief nonetheless. Her journal, a childhood memoir now in my possession, is filled with stories of their antics…The time her older sister, Beulah, decided it wasn’t fair her baby doll was bald and Nellie’s had long lustrous hair.

No, not fair at all. And so, Beulah took the liberty of stealing. Locks of love! Cut and paste and voila! Brand new hair for her own baby. Nellie’s shorn jagged. Her beautiful doll ruined for life.

One of her journal entries describes her childhood living room and a memory of one particular evening of innocent mischief:

“Directly in front of the fireplace there was a settee – a long padded bench with arms and back, a primitive sofa with matching brown leather chairs. It was a cozy atmosphere when we sat there in front of the open fireplace and listened to the logs hiss and spit every so often.

With this living room suite came a wooden table with compartments on each end which held our Holy Bible and several books and magazines. On the table sat our kerosene lamp by which we read at night.

I remember one occasion when Lizzie was sixteen, a young man came to visit her. Mama, thinking she was too young to ‘take company,’ made Beulah and me go in and ‘chaperone.’ Beulah walked in with me right behind her, then picked up the Bible, and the two of us took a seat near the young couple, Lizzie and her suitor, Marvin Gaye.

We sat before them the whole time, reading the Bible, but mostly giggling the night away. Lizzie’s beau never returned after that.”

Ha! I guess not. Poor Marvin. Subjected to a night of silly giggling, scripture reading, looks from two young women saying, don’t even think about it.

Happy Mother’s Day, Nellie. Your memory brought a much-needed smile to my face. It’s like you were here, telling the story all over.  

What memory of your mother has made you smile? 

My grandmother once gave me a tip:

In difficult times, you move forward in small steps.

Do what you have to do, but little by little.

Don't think about the future, or what may happen tomorrow.

Wash the dishes.

Remove the dust.

Write a letter.

Make a soup.


You see?

You are advancing step by step.

Take a step and stop.

Rest a little.

Praise yourself.

Take another step.

Then another.

You won't notice, but your steps will grow more and more.

And the time will come when you can think about the future without crying.

- Elena  Mikhalkova 

(Image of Tasha Tudor, American Illustrator 1915-2008) 

We fell asleep in one world, and woke up in another.

Suddenly Disney is out of magic,

Paris is no longer romantic,

New York doesn't stand up anymore,

the Chinese wall is no longer a fortress, and Mecca is empty.

Hugs & kisses suddenly become weapons,

and not visiting parents & friends becomes an act of love.

Suddenly you realize that power, beauty & money are worthless, 

and can't get you the oxygen you're fighting for. 

The world continues its life and it is beautiful. 

It only puts humans in cages. I think it's sending us a message:

"You are not necessary. The air, earth, water and sky without you are fine. 

When you come back, remember that you are my guests. Not my masters."

~ Francesca Melandri

O my Soul…

Where do you want to go now?
I have sprung you
From my old musty rooms
Of graven idols
Of mildewed missals
Of cold crying walls
My self-styled temples
Of robotic creeds and
Unfinished levitations.

The sparrow has sung
Itself hoarse
The smell of fraud gone
The dust of dogma
Swept by the broom of
Wild revelations
My dying rainbows
Now merry with color!

O my sweet Soul…
Let’s just stay here
There is nothing out there
For inside me sleeps
A hundred Universes
Suns and Stars and Saints
Attended only by the Breath
Of the Breath of GOD.

~ Maya Teague

Maya is a mystically inclined mom, besotted with the Beloved, divorced from the material world, on a quest to find her Highest Self.

AT THE END OF THE YEAR

As this year draws to its end,

We give thanks for the gifts it brought

And how they became inlaid within

Where neither time nor tide can touch them.

Days when beloved faces shone brighter

With light from beyond themselves;

And from the granite of some secret sorrow

A stream of buried tears loosened.

We bless this year for all we learned,

For all we loved and lost

And for the quiet way it brought us

Nearer to our invisible destination.

JOHN O'DONOHUE

Excerpts from 'At the End of the Year' in his books,

To Bless the Space Between Us (US) / Benedictus (Europe)

Photo: Ann Cahill 

A Soul Feast

Title: Spiritual Wanderlust

A Field Guide to Deep Desire

Author: Kelly Deutsch

Pages: 149

Year: 2019

When I first ordered my copy of Spiritual Wanderlust, I prophetically announced: “I will savor it in the days to come like Babette’s Feast (one of the most profoundly spiritual stories out there). I’ve no intention of swallowing it whole like a Happy Meal, as there is no fast-food lane for soul.”

And a feast it was. Although you can read it in a single day, I chose to sit with it during lexico divina. Nothing like a long languorous chew during a divine meal. It’s not the kind of book you want to race through like a detective novel, as every page flows with wisdom – wisdom the author has gained from her own life experience and from the words of her friends, Augustine and John of the Cross. 

Spiritual Wanderlust is filled with wonder and awe, purpose and meaning. It could be the one book seekers of divine union in modern times have been searching. It explores longing, where that longing comes from, and how to listen to what this desire is saying. Kelly Deutsch guides the reader to the deep place within – into the depths where the hidden treasures lie beneath:

“There are certain things we prefer to keep buried, well-hidden under feet of defenses, blindness, and plastered smiles. Yet the more we unearth, the more room the divine has to fill. It is this inner space of silence that we must foster.”

Spiritual Wanderlust is a must-read for all who hunger for what is authentic and real. As Blaise Pascal once said, “There is a God-shaped vacuum in the heart of each man which cannot be satisfied by any created thing but only by God the Creator, made known through Jesus Christ.” Which is the heart of this book.

Richard Rohr was right in saying, “Kelly has a gift for making deep truths edible. “Spiritual Wanderlust is a soul-nourishing and delectable read.

What scrumptious, rich-with-meaning books have you read lately?

*~*

Kelly Deutsch is a Personal Growth Coach based out of South Dakota. She accompanies people on their interior journeys, to find new places of freedom, spaciousness, and vivacity. With a bit of spark and a real reverence, Kelly makes space for her clients to encounter their deepest selves, and there, to encounter the divine. 

Order Spiritual Wanderlust on Amazon

You can find her over at KD Coaching 

And at Spiritual Wanderlust