I let myself sit on my cushion.
I let myself feel the vast depth of my need for people.
I let myself feel the joy of not being afraid of my need.
I am aligned with this joy.
No longer am I armored.
I am like the moist slug resting on a leaf,
with no shell to protect,
glistening and utterly vulnerable to the world.
The wetness of my vulnerable heart…needing love.
Now I know I can be with you in your need,
because I am Love in this moment.
I feel its power and its pull.
You too will find, within your grief and need, this love
that holds your utter vulnerability.
Then you’ll know how to be with me.
Holly Myers
One does not become enlightened by imagining figures of light, but by making the darkness conscious.
Carl Jung
Love what is mortal. I am beginning to cherish the depth that lies therein. Should I ignore my mortality the bookends of life and death loose the love story unfolding. Thank you for helping me into wonder. Kirk
Dear Holly - Amen to your line "My stories and my experiences are how I become aware." I am grateful for your sharing and deeply aware of the courage that such vulnerability requires from us. Know that your words will touch those who are meant to be touched by them...... James Baldwin wrote “Only an artist can tell … what it is like for anyone who gets to this planet to survive it. What it is like to die, or to have somebody die; what it is like to be glad.”......It takes a deep Love to love what is mortal, thank you.
Kirk, thank you for your feedback. I am touched deeply that my poem resonates fully with you. I picked the Mary Oliver Poem the Blackwater Woods because I have been meditating on the last part of it for awhile now: "To live in this world you must be able to do three things: to love what is mortal; to hold it against your bones knowing your own life depends on it; and when the time comes to let it go.... to let it go." I am not sure if this part can reach your inner depths, but at the time I heard this I was in tremendous grief over the death of my son. I was just talking with James this morning about how the poems I pick may not resonate with other people at the time. We all are in different places in our growth and path and even daily emotions. I am not sure if between now and Wednesday there might be some part of the poem that speaks to you of holding any part of you or this mortal world close to your bones knowing your life depends on it. My stories and my experiences are how I become aware. My broken heart over my son's death changes me forever. I want to share my stories and experiences with you, and I want you to share your with me. Even the shame, even the embarrassment, even the grief , even the mess you have made of your life: the anger, the ignorance, the unknowing and the mistakes. Share it all. Presence without an ability to share one's history and experiences is not real presence for me. To truly let go of my grief I must share it with someone and be loved and held in love. Grieving it all alone sets up a barrier within me to accept the love from other people. How can I truly realize our interconnectedness if I refuse to allow my vulnerability with other people?
"Love what is mortal, to hold it against your bones knowing your own life depends on it." That is where this poem speaks to me.
Holly, you have captured deep presence with your poem. More powerful to me than the Mary Oliver poem you sent out. And James, thanks for enhancing the depth of our darkness allowing me to see the light. I am blessed by you both.
Love, Kirk
"Then you'll know how to be with me." This line informed by Jung's insights and quote makes me feel that everything I experienced has not only made me who "I am" but also that my darkest moments have allowed me see the light. Thank you Holly.