Iris

Winter of intricate pattern
  waited patiently—      for the letting alone of things
      and all—                not happening        now.
She flourishes to birdwhistles
       sexy.  sultry.  scatter.
     in freenotes.  unfolding high— on Wildness
     soft feathers        blow backdrop
             onto blackened purple thistle—
   spiny strife skewers truth, with sworded petal
       the breezy butter daze
          in praise of simpler seed
             simmers love in       cusps, in fistfuls
my moody blackened bloom,
         hides all she has to lose
  my darkened brooding Iris—
          (I was made for you)

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This is an edit of a previously published poem, my first ever (!) in an online publication called ‘Forgotten Ground Regained’ I’ve given it a shakedown and slight rewrite. We are never quite the same person another day. We edit, tinker, chip away until the urge finally leaves.

The release.

What a time to be alive in this world! So much unrest, so much peace and healing needed. But still, why all the music?

I read something yesterday about the most impressive Americans in public life. Who knew that a Muslim socialist, Mamdani, the Mayor of New York …. and the Pope would feature strongly!

It seems strange and dystopian that Vance and Trump are challenging the Pope on matters of theology. How narcissists bend the truth and abuse their position to suit their chosen narrative. It’s quite an education the world is receiving in leadership and courage.

The courage to speak up for what you value, despite the heft and even the consequence, could be part of the ask these days.

In your thoughts, in your work and in your words.

I’m currently working on this as a live project.

It seems to be the case that we are meant to feel everything, in order to feel the spark of being alive. Not to armour up, self protect (so much!) It seems this armour gets in the way of true connection and of true Self. Habits we’re unaware of until something perhaps breaks us open.

This coming closer to our the Self. I've learned these are 8Cs; Calmness, Curiosity, Compassion, Confidence, Clarity, Courage, Creativity and Connectedness. How close are you to living life from these attributes? They sound like an appealing Self to me, and I aspire to spend more of my life nourishing these parts of me, and living from them where I can. Calm has been elusive of late, I’ll admit.

It seems to be that we are meant to walk the entirety of the spectrum of emotions in order to grow and learn what life wants from us. To feel moments of our lives embodied, vs numbed and checked out, and to try to become closer to the pure Self.

Easier written. What did Rilke say? That we cannot ask for the answers, for it is only in walking the way we are called, only then does the meaning and the clarity emerge. The first step is to attune to the signs, listen for the birdwhistles, how they announce the year’s flourish. Follow your Bliss Joseph Campbell said. That beautiful rush. Everything is waiting for You, David Whyte and Wild Geese, the much recited poem of the late Mary Oliver

Nothing would make sense to us if we were given the answers too early in life. Without having walked across the hot coals of both JOY and its opposite. Hopefully not in equal measure, I hasten to add. But coexisting, accepted, as passing weather in our lives.

Here, exactly here, is where we are meant to be. The trees are not lost as David Wagoner's poem goes.

I have always been captivated by the concept of our internal space or emotional capacity for joy being equal to our space for feeling pain and sadness. Eliminating or protecting from one has a flatlining effect on the other.

I used think that pain and joy came from different external sources, good decisions, effort, luck and their opposites. But, now I think passing events have a life of their own, come for reasons we have no control of. Sometimes with a lesson, sometimes as a test or a means to grow. To make space, and an allowance for the complete spectrum of these feelings and life events is surely the challenge of a lifetime. Kahlil Gibran, the Lebanese philosopher, speaks of this in On Joy and Sorrow . He says, in essence, that the cup carrying your joy is the same cup hollowed out by sorrow. And the deeper sorrow carves into you, the more joy you can contain. Who knew!

As an aside, my eldest got news of an MRI scan after a football knee injury at the weekend. A dislocated kneecap is a diagnosis, at least not ACL or any other major ligament, and no immediate surgery in the plan. And hopefully with an uncomfortable brace, crutches and some physio he’ll be mobile soon again. It's just one of those passing, frustrating things.

I had been helping to take of my 86 year old Dad lately (along with my mother who is his carer, and my wonderful brothers). Dad has later stage Parkinson’s Disease, and right now my son is as disabled getting around as my Dad. It’s been a strange echo these past few days. I had lots of surgery on my hips as a child, lived away from home in my early years. Dislocation was definitely a theme. So these things trigger me. But now there is a less severe diagnosis than earlier feared and a trajectory to health that my dad does not have. Thwarted independence, worry, asking help, for taken-for-granted basic tasks all seem weirdly familiar. I’m hoping we’re closer to the tonic of perspective now.

Speaking of soothe, here on Substack I love the eternally uplifting essays of Susie Mawhinney and the philosophical musings and collage art of Duane Toops. You should check out their work if you haven't already. I was so impressed with the daily erasure poetry of the much talented Fotini Masika last month. An artist, as well as a poet. And the sharpest intellect you’ll find.

Susan Cain speaks of this concept of Thin Spaces. I experience these sacred spots when I’m out walking in my local park, the trees and the Light whispers messages through the new leaves on liminal thresholds. Also the thunderous soothe of Her Majesty, the Ocean.

In these turbulent times, it’s so important to ground away from the news. In Nature, in those sacred places, uplifting experiences and with those people we allow in, close, closer than most, who have the power to nourish and sustain us.

That’s all for now. I will try and find some time for writing in the weeks to come. I have a chest infection at the moment so no audio today. I look forward to reading your inspiring posts. We need each other, even more than before, to nourish us back to life from all the weariness.

Each day is new
ours to undress
in rest and unrest.
fresh from battle
to chisel what's not
from this blessing
of the rest of our lives