I love this piece by my talented, creative, spiritual, philosophical leader, and friend, Ali Freedlund:
During one storm, I tried to photo capture all the long yellow grasses bent over in a huge field, all in one direction…the stark beauty of a movement of so many thin souls. No resistance. Are we like these long yellow grasses all blown and waiting to lay our bodies down or are we the stalwart oak trees witnessing or maybe the rain-battered fences deciding who we let in or whether to fall apart? Maybe the in-your-face winds or the drenching rain that comes in waves like grief.
All of it, we are.
As I write the sun is almost piercingly bright as it lifts slips of fog from the valley into nothingness. How we love the idea of being lifted, the way as children we were lifted into warm arms, the way a drowning person can be lifted from the ocean, the way we hope that suffering can be lifted or maybe held. We bow to be lifted.
Some things I can lift:
the corners of my mouth to smile
grandchildren for all the ways they are not perfect
the top of my head straight into this moment
pieces of plastic from the beaches I walk
hands to my chest in prayer
my eyes to the treetops, the clouds, to the eyes of anyone I speak to
a bag of groceries into someone’s car
legs up into the hills filling with rain
the messy world up to the full moon’s radiant face
fingers from the keyboard or cutting board or iphone
to massage the nearest shoulders
Forty years ago, I wrote in my annual poem letter: “Solitude is a luxury paid with peace.” Now it is more relevant than ever. Since Covid I often need a strong yank to pivot toward my people and this war-torn world, to witness, to suffer with the suffering and try to understand what I can do. How to lean into and polish the light.
I can gather:
apples, chestnuts to share
In town squares
wild mushrooms, bones, feathers
moments of joy, blessings
memories
sticks for home fires
words into reflections
thoughts into actions
family and friends for dinner,
for beginnings, endings
my breath in silence
with others in song
or to listen, cry, laugh
move together
May we all gather and lift
Ali Freedlund