abundance part 2: illness and injury

One early morning in late January, I slipped down my front steps. Glistening in the early dark, they appeared to be merely wet. But it turns out, the city had become sheathed in a thin layer of ice overnight. I scrambled my way back into my warm house, heart pounding, hands throbbing. I knew I had to ice them right away. More importantly, I knew I needed to shift my internal energy. I got my favorite blanket, tea, ice packs and settled myself into a cozy nest on my couch and turned to my childhood comfort TV: the Carol Burnett Show. I needed to watch Tim Conway make Harvey Korman laugh. I needed to laugh. I stayed there until sleep overtook me. And when I woke up, I knew I needed xrays, the specter of broken wrists looming in a small corner of my mind. As I tried to get dressed, I felt weepy with frustration at my painful, inflexible wrists. Do you know how hard it is to put a bra on without bending your wrists? A dear friend braved the slippery streets to take me to urgent care. No fractures, just sprains. I spent the rest of the day giving myself as much TLC triage as possible. Then, three weeks later as I was emerging from life with wrist casts, I woke up with a cold on a Saturday morning. I spent the weekend nestled in my favorite pjs and blanket sipping tea and soup while I rested.

For me, illness and injury are not just things to overcome so as to continue functioning--that is a capitalist orientation that makes quick recovery imperative. Instead, I think of Jonah in the belly of the whale. I need to disengage from the world to turn inward. In this way, illness or injury are a portal to a deeper engagement with self. I descend into the belly of myself, seeking transcendence.

It is a relatively new idea that illness and injury are simply bad things to overcome. In fact, in each of our indigenous roots is the understanding that before illness or injury lands in the body, it had to penetrate our energetic bodies. Which is to say, our divine self had been beckoning us to address something that was off in our lives for a while but we had refused to attend to it. So our divine self took the drastic measure of throwing our physical bodies off kilter. Thus when I am ill or injured I turn here:

Sprains: anger and resistance: not wanting to move in a particular direction in life.

Wrists: movement and ease.

Colds: too much going on at once; mental confusion and disorder.

Do you see a pattern? And how curious to have these physical experiences during a seemingly wonderful time in my life: I had just published my first full-length collection of poetry!

That my physical state informs me about my well-being in a deep and broad way, fills me with gratitude. I know that what I encounter in my life is ultimately for my benefit. It also sends me on a quest. I journal and meditate, trying to see what had been veiled from me or I veiled from myself. I also dialog with the illness or injury; first expressing gratitude for what it is here to teach me, then asking for guidance on how to evolve from the experience. Often, incredibly vivid and illuminating dreams occur. Sometimes a memory will surface from the murky depths. Or an unconscious self-sabotaging belief pattern. Consistently what is unveiled is this: Trust yourself. Love yourself. You are worthy of your heart’s desires. Release fear. Trust your voice.

When I sit within the belly of illness or injury long enough, I plumb depths of abundance within myself I wouldn't know otherwise.  

abundance

Over the last few years I have been focused on abundance. Meaning, I start with the paradigm that Earth is abundant then note expressions of that abundance: leaves and acorns in the fall, flowers and medicinal plants (often discounted as weeds) in the spring, snow in the winter and so on. Although I don't live in direct relationship with Earth, I am an Earthling and I get to live within that abundance so I am intentional about noticing it. Further, whatever comes my way, I know that it is here for my evolution, my benefit. Often it is my judgement about a thing that eclipses my understanding of it as abundance. For example, the shorter days of winter are a form of abundance because they invite us into a more restful rhythm for a spell.

On an energetic level, we operate within self-fulfilling prophecies; constructing reality with intentions, paradigms, and beliefs. I think about the line from the book Wild, 'put yourself in the way of beauty.' I put myself in the way of abundance, a path I pave with gratitude.

I say all this because I'm in an overtly abundant season and need to bear witness to that abundance.

1. As you know my first full-length collection of poetry has been published. The poems in We Remember Ourselves were midwifed through the generous and thoughtful critiquing of many wonderful writer friends. That is a form of abundance. Even the process of layout and publishing was delightful and pleasure is also a form of abundance.

2. I have many readings lined up for February and beyond because Kansas City has such a supportive, thriving writing community. This is abundance.

3. Because of Kansas City's writing community, I am one of the four featured artists for February with the Missouri Arts Council.

4. And again because of the writing community, I'm a February featured artist with the Poetic Underground. Getting to answer the fabulous questions they asked me, is a practice of noticing abundance: When did you first start coming to Poetic Underground, and why do you keep coming back? I started coming to Poetic Underground around the start of the pandemic, so late 2019. I keep coming for several reasons: Poetic Underground has a strong community vibe; I respect the thoughtful and sensitive rules of engagement stated at the beginning of open mic; I value the workshop offerings; the art shared is cheered on by participants in a super encouraging way; I love the wide range of people that show up and are welcomed. Do you have a favorite Poetic Underground memory? I've been blown away so many times by the masterful work shared. But my favorite memories revolve around the quality & depth of conversation that occurs during workshops. Do you have a favorite local poet? I can't say that I have a favorite poet. I am just inspired by getting to witness people express themselves in brave and authentic ways. How long have you been writing, and how do you stay inspired? I have been writing for as long as I can remember. It's the way I understand what I experience, how I navigate the world. So in that sense, I am constantly inspired. There is so much I want to understand more deeply and the deeper I dive into a thing the more connected it is to other things, which means I get to keep writing.  What advice would you give someone who loves to write & wants to share their work, but is nervous about putting themselves out there? Earlier I mentioned that I've been writing for as long as I can remember. But it's only within the last eight years or so, that I've begun sharing my work. Several things helped me overcome my nervousness about putting my work out there. 1) Being a part of a critique group full of other writers being vulnerable with their work and experiencing the respectful way they gave feedback. 2) Seeing people share ideas that were similar to my ideas but they had the guts to share and I didn't, pissed me off. 3) Working aggressively to remove the judgemental non stop loop in my head and replace it with a loop of gratitude and awe for the incredible gift I have. 4) My mantra-there is no pass/fail-it is all a learning. 5) Cultivating a deep regard for my relationship to my art, to myself as a writer. And to some extent, the gift/responsibility that comes with that. Imagination, story, poetry--these were my spaces where I could be held and inspired. My work can do that for others too. 
   

5. Oh and there's so much more! But I'll share that as it unfolds. In the meantime, I wanted to offer a meditation on the picture above from a winter hike. There's so much abundance in that little scene: the leaves support the hibernation of many creatures. The bare branches allow sunlight to penetrate the woods, providing warmth in the cold (conversely, when I hike in the summer, the leafed out trees provide shady respite in the heat). These particular mushrooms form on decomposing tree limbs. What more proof can there be that Earth is abundant than mushrooms growing from something that's decaying? Which of course makes me wonder, what in my life is decomposing right now to form something else, to create abundance in a different form? May you find yourself in the way of beauty, in the way of abundance. Even in the seemingly dormant winter.

It's here!

Friends~

I'm excited to let you know that my first full-length poetry collection, We Remember Ourselves, has been published! This is a watershed event for me because I've been wanting to do and been encouraged to put together a book for years. And finally, as Poetry-Editor-in-Residence with Flying Ketchup press, it's happened!

I would greatly appreciate you buying my book directly from me rather than Amazon so more money comes to me rather than Bezos who did not spend years crafting these poems. And, if you purchase from me, I'll sign your book! If you do purchase from Amazon, kindly leave a review.

Currently, I'm working on lining up readings to share the poems in this collection as well as new ones I'm working on. I'll keep you posted on when and where. I'd love to for you to experience a reading with me.

In the meantime, here's a baby poem I just birthed yesterday. Now you'll have to buy my second book to see what she grows into!

make way

does not each no make way like a plow

for your every yes

sometimes no is bright as death

glorious as heartbreak

a whisper in the lonely dark          

that unlocks

the cage of coerced yesses from your lips

even when your innocent ancient wise body sang no

just as a bird wings no to gravity    yes to sky

knowing no is the biggest yes

~Mary