One boring winter afternoon, I took my five-year-old daughter to the local ice rink. As she and a little friend skated off for a loop together, I sat and noticed: her happy clompy steps, her favorite woolen hat nearly covering her eyes, the laughter bubbling out of her. Wanting to bottle the moment up, I grabbed my phone, titled a new Note “Favorite Moments,” and added the short reminder “Ava ice skating.” A week or two later, another entry, this time simply the title of a poem that made me laugh out loud. Then came the green chili cheeseburgers on a birthday trip with an old friend, then the sweetness of my son giggling as he read Calvin & Hobbes with a flashlight under the covers, then the first ruby-throated hummingbird at the feeder that spring.
That winter day was over a dozen years ago. Each year’s list has gotten longer as the practice has made me better at noticing joy and delight. These noticed moments, digitally bottled and lined up together, took the edges off some dark and turbulent years. At my funeral, I imagine the lists enlarged onto giant post-it notes that fill the room. A life of moments, noticed.
This is gorgeous- the list is a poem itself and I’m totally stealing this idea. I jot down things I want to write about - ideas and I take photos of things that amaze me but I like the idea of writing down moments to hold onto later
What a beautiful practice. It has awakened me to moments of pure delight and to capturing them. Like last night when a band of children came out of the fog in raggedy clothes and raggedy lines, all showing off their walking sticks, like "Miss Nancy." Thank you for helping me remember to capture and treasure these things.
Your writing reminds me of a poem I can't find but wrote into my 8th grade diary so long ago and have looked for all these years because I somehow lost or threw away that diary! It begins: If only I could hold your face, wrap up the light in your eyes and put it away safekeeping, safekeeping against....." I can only remember fragments of the rest! But it feels like the spirit of how you held these moments and how they so poignantly comforted you....moving words that touch me Amy!
Yesterday, I attended my son’s ceremony of recognizing excellence, when I first had this invitation by the school, I was elated. I remembered how such moments were outside of me for more brilliant girls during our time. But still, I admired that, one being called out at assembly in the main hall in that boarding school to receive their certificate. The the way the girls walked, those few girls had mastered the art. Small determined steps taken to meet the headmistress who was a white Franscican nun . Funnily enough, I don’t remember the rest of us cheering. Possibly we were jealousy of them! But that was decades ago!
And here I was in another big hall in yet another boarding school! Both girls and boys study here. And one of them is my own son one of the few to be recognized.
I came with a new letter I had written for him and an old one he had left at home. I watched him read my letter. Normally very restraint in showing his emotions, this time he stretched his hand to part my shoulder furthest from him and he hugged me in to say thank you mummy! And my, how I ululated when his name was called and then I ululated for every single student after that making the room electric! And then a student’s name was called, then I saw a couple move forward, a man with his wife, walking quietly and elegantly to receive their son’s award. They showed no emotion, just their dignity and presence as if of duty, as if in honour - we all watched them but I did ululate for them for writing something we couldn’t put a finger.
For the prayers, the music blown out flutes, the student’s dances, the momentous certificates, the wrapped gifts, the rain, the parents in their Busuti and the minister who caused the singing of the national anthem twice yesterday, such was away a great school with multitudes of good teachers and their headteacher remembered talent! Well done Makerere College school!
I have a lot of friends who are performance artists -- dancers, drag queens and kings, burlesque performers... They've created an incredible platform for what they do, and I go see their performances once or twice a month. I always feel transported by the way they offer themselves to the world with magnificence, yes, but also with sadness, ache and deep humanity. They've taught me a lot about truth and artifice, about accepting what's in you, letting it breathe and looking out at the world through your own eyes. They have access to a freedom I'm still learning, and I feel like they are my therapists. They've really helped me see myself and the world in new ways, and I'm so grateful for them.
This is beautiful. Thank you so much. 🙏 “They have access to a freedom I’m still learning” really rang a bell within me, and I’m so drawn to the same energy.
This was just lovely. You gave me cause to reflect on the many performers I’ve seen over the years, and how much they touched me, even changed me in unexpected ways. I’m so glad you shared this. 😊
JS : WOW just WOW . I am grateful that you shared this with us !!. I LOVE the bit about having access to th kind of freedom your friends have and how they are helping you enter into that kind of freedom
Hi JS, I started to put together my post for next Sunday which I guess is about becoming more open as I age in some ways. I was wondering if I could quote you and share what you wrote about access to a freedom you are still learning. I can share the writing in advance if it is preferable. 😊
Hi JS. I have my post together and I’m happy with how it is coming out. Right now I’m quoting you, but I don’t use your name. I’m also using they, them pronouns. Let me know if you would like me to use your name and how you would like that to appear and if you would prefer different pronouns. I can also send you a snippet of what I’ve got with the part that includes your quote, if you email me at Substack. Grateful!!
Dear Poetry Unbound community, dear Padraig, thank you for this sacred Sunday space.
To your question:: When I was seven, I inherited my parents's big bedroom. Each new year's eve, I would sit in the chair in the corner. I imagined the crown of my head opening. With eyes closed, I sorted through pieces of "brain paper". I crumpled up the memories that I didn't need. I carefully folded the memories I wanted into tiny squares (to make room for the new year), tucked them back in my head and closed the lid.
Mary, I’m still sorting. Must have been a quirky 7 year old! Yet remembering that I started sorting at seven helps me when I feel muddled as an adult.🌱
I’m taking a writing course this Spring that helped me channel back to some of the wisdom from my childhood. So I really like this, the idea that some of our knowing was with us, innate to us as children. I find it comforting too.
'I crumpled up the memories that I didn't need. I carefully folded the memories I wanted into tiny squares (to make room for the new year), tucked them back in my head and closed the lid." LOVE this . What a visual imagination bounced up when I read this phrase. I used it today when talking with a collegue about what we are going to do with memories of personnal trauma, me as a young child from Belfast an area in North Belfast called New Lodge and her as a member of the Ba Hutu community here in Rwanda.. For both of us, quite often our most vivid pain ful memories ; play an instrumental role as we work with children and gran children of Genocide survivors and their families. The image of carefully folding ,as opposed to rippping to shreds, the memories we would like to FORGET because they bring has been used to remind us both that we not our memories but they can wander with us individually and as a team as we walk along side with communities processing how they carefully fold their memories Thank You!!
Taking photographs helps me see things in a new way. Zooming in on a lovely flower, I may find a small bug nesting, or notice a stripe of color from a different angle. Moreover, in order to focus, I slow down. Slowing down helps me observe, reflect, and form connections in mind and in the world.
Yes! I know some people say leave your camera at home when you want to be here now but , for me, having the camera allows me to really be here now. I am paying close attention to the world around me and then sometimes I stop and take in one scene via the camera. I think it helps me to stay in the present
Ahhhh...one of my fellow shutterbugs. I love what you said about focusing. It really is a feeling of grounding, when you’re in the zone, taking your time and breathing in all the photos that are suddenly possible. ♥️
Karen, I love to do the same. I spend more time engaged with the beauty I've noticed and I enjoy contemplating the difference between seeing and noticing. The camera will faithfully capture all of the visual information and that will differ from the particular thing that drew my attention - software versus wetware.
Amen Karen. Taking photos allow me to NOTICE (it’s a challenge though when others tell me to PUT THE CAMERA away and just enjoy)… I have had to defend my feelings that TO ME, I see and get to NOTICE and appreciate the moments. I enjoy the chance to capture moments (even before cell phone cameras, I was notorious for taking photos) I only wish I was better at ORGANIZING the photos (both before digital as well as digital) — I love the various ways we cultivate NOTICING — to document, to remember. I believe stories matter… thank you for being a fellow shutterbug.
Every morning, I write two lists that I share with friends: things I am grateful for, and things that I accept. The first is fairly easy, and the second takes just a bit more consciousness and energy to move things from resistance or frustration to a place where I can accept them as they are—namely, things over which I have no power. It’s a helpful moment for me in really assessing the sources of friction and tension in my life, and figuring out what actions I need to take, and where I need to simply loosen and soften.
In a longer sense of time, my annual trips to the Newport Folk Festival in Rhode Island followed by a vacation in Provincetown, Massachusetts on Cape Cod are my only true and consistent rituals in the calendar. I look forward to them as an opportunity to welcome new art, new people, new experiences—but with just enough sameness that I can see how the person I am bringing in myself each year is changing and evolving. It marks my aging quite literally, as I have a quiet birthday with friends in Provincetown every year, and allows me to see how certain parts of myself are either growing or shying away: my queerness, my creativity, my kindness, my recovery and liberation work, my willingness to keep my heart open to others. While I can and do work toward these things daily, it is only with a longer lens that I can get a view of real progress—some annually, and some in even generational time—and in these places, I can get that view. For this, I’m very grateful. I’ll add it to the list.
Have a beautiful day, and thanks for this space and time in virtual community that I really cherish on Sunday mornings.
What a tender note in this piece in particular. Thank you for such a grounding contribution: “ I look forward to them as an opportunity to welcome new art, new people, new experiences—but with just enough sameness that I can see how the person I am bringing in myself each year is changing and evolving. It marks my aging quite literally, as I have a quiet birthday with friends in Provincetown every year, and allows me to see how certain parts of myself are either growing or shying away: ”
Sometimes I find space to notice the world in a more attentive way when it finds me - what you seek is seeking you - when a loose connection from some time previous re-appears out of the blue - wherever that is - and gently offers me, invites me to, a space and time both familiar and new. Sometimes I notice my noticing when I step out of the flow to do something on my own - a reflective exercise. Sometimes I notice my noticing when I step into the flow - place myself in the way - and brace myself as cold water flows over me and around me. And sometimes I simply sit with my noticing - like watching a sunset from the Bere Penninsula - or I lie down with it on my belly on the inner edge of Dún Aonghusa on Inis Mór, Galway and stare down and out at the ocean and sky around. Some of these things, I have done as recently as yesterday. And some, not for an age. Either way, they all age with me. And so me and my seeing are only as alone as we forget ourselves to be.
“Some of these things, I have done as recently as yesterday. And some, not for an age. Either way, they all age with me. And so me and my seeing are only as alone as we forget ourselves to be.” Chef’s kiss on that sentiment — and thank you for sharing your gift with words.
You are very kind. I only found those words in that order because of the invitation in Pádraig’s question. And by following a spider’s thread therein. What a special place this is. Thank you for co-creating it.
Running has always opened a space of presence and distance. Today is Father’s Day, and I went for a run on my local trails, a place I haven’t been in over a year. It was a beautiful morning, although it ended in a pulled calf muscle. But in that pain and frustration, I found myself present and aware of my body in a way that I am often not. At the same time I thought about a course that I am teaching this summer. I distanced myself from the somatic experience of my pulled calf and thought deeply about the content and structure of my course. Presence and distance in the same hour and six minutes.
I find running and writing to be deeply connected for me - trails are my sanctuary. As an athlete I’ve had injuries over the years too but the trails are always there to welcome me back and the absences have helped me to never take even one run for granted. Wishing you speedy healing and a joyful return!
Thank you so much for those words of encouragement, Tami. I agree about the trails always welcome you back. I find it quite fascinating. How change can be both imperceptible and obvious, both in myself, and in the natural world around me. And running the same trail over and over reveals that--The same, but different. Just like “the self.”
I was thinking running helps me see things in a new way too! Presence and distance -- yes. Presence in my body. I want to feel my heart beat and notice how the air feels going into my lungs. It tells me the temperature and humidity level. I notice the sky and the trees. My feet tell me if it’s muddy or the trail is solid. Then the filters I typically process through fall away. Distance from some of my thinking patterns. I’m too much in my body to be in my head. Things come up that I’ve been trying to avoid or a challenge becomes clearer. Or nothing happens but I’ve felt my body and I’m more settled. So for a bit I can see from a more settled place.
I can certainly appreciate that space that you find yourself in when you are running. I loved that time back in the day. I could run miles and miles and miles and enjoy every. moment. Unfortunately, some major health issues took away my ability to run (much grief over that loss) but I have found that cycling is also a way for me to find presence and distance. Thanks for reminding me of the joys of running.
Thanks for your thoughtful remarks. it’s a good reminder that we aren’t defined by the activities we are able to do. Many times our abilities come and go. Some of us experience a temporary inability while others, like yourself have to come to terms with a complete change of activity. Your comment reminds me to be thankful for whatever I am able to do.
What a lovely thought. I am working my way back to running, but how much I have grown through the more sedate pace of walking, so much that my thoughts are turning away from marathon dreams to pilgrimage. "Be thankful for whatever I am able to do."
I find that running and waking unleash ideas and new perspectives. I’m sorry about your injury. I’m not very patient with my body when it fails me and I’m realizing what a privileged perspective that is and one that will need to shift as I move into middle age and beyond. What course are you teaching? Teaching is such a beautiful profession. I am now in my 22nd year.
I’m teaching introduction to ethics. It has been a series of frustrations because I am teaching it online and our university system is moving to a new online learning platform. Which means excessive headaches involving moving material over from the previous system. It’s also a summer session so I have to cut down the amount of content from 15 weeks to 5. Haha.
Thanks Tricia. Me too. I’ve been stuck on the “concrete trails“ with the jogging stroller and try to get back out on the dirt and leaves. Did a bit too much. Haha
Every time I hear Gautam Srikishan's "Praise the Rain" I see things in a new way. I don't know what there is about that music but I have an emotional reaction every time. I get a lump in my throat and sometimes tears and then I give thanks. What an impact!
Every single time you read the poem again on every single episode of Poetry Unbound, it is an entirely different poem for me. After explication, after some background or even just after a second reading I notice something else that enhances my understanding. Anything or anywhere we revisit is ritual and if we can explore within ritual instead of calcifying it, ritual is a gorgeous safe space and container for the unexpected wherever we may be. The unexpected isn't always easy but it is what grows us.
Thank you for this, Amy! “...if we can explore within ritual instead of calcifying it, ritual is a gorgeous safe space and container for the unexpected wherever we may be.”
Poetry is definitely something that helps me see things in a new way. Both reading and writing it. What poetry does is it rises something up from being merely an object and turns it into a subject, which can be viewed from many angles. Indeed, poetry is often about trying to look at something from as many angles as possible. And in so doing, you see the subject of poetic contemplation in a new light.
I love this so much, Marta. Lately I’ve been sitting with the idea that all certainty is an illusion as a way to open some things up. I love your courageous framing. 🙏
Just recently I started making a daily list of small things I am grateful for. I always avoided this kind of practice, thinking it would feel false or saccharine, but I am surprised to find that it is a path towards accepting life as it is, right in the moment. Not wanting things to be different, really seeing how things are and feeling into them. This practice has been a surprise and a gift, and I find it spilling over into my daily life--it wakes me up, and I find myself seeing the world in a new way.
My spiritual director got me started doing collages. I begin with a question, an aspect of my life where something feels unresolved. Then I look through my collection of magazines, cards and calendars, cutting out images that want to be part of the collage. I have no plan. I let the images choose themselves and then I keep rearranging them until the pattern feels right. The collage I created this weekend was revelatory. I was trying to give my younger self what I needed to endure my husband's descent through Alzheimer's. In the process of making the collage, I realized I had been given, all along, what I needed.
Thank you for sharing this. When I place mosaic pieces, I find a peace. I am glad to hear that you have found this practice to help with the very difficult situation of your husband’s condition. I am sorry.
I can only imagine that you might continue to create new patterns that fit for any particular day as you accompany your husband into the descent, an ever changing landscape that takes away familiarity asking only that you too find freedom in the uncertainty of impermanence as we all must. I wish you well, courage and strength, drawing upon your discovery of inner resources that will accompany you along this path.
“What helps you see things in a new way?” Simply opening up to the inquiry already begins to melt what felt solid, opening up space for possibility... for something new. There are many “practices” that help me, some formal and some informal. Two that arose spontaneously that I at times now will also consciously bring forth: 1) Humor. Whatever I am going through or struggling with, I begin to imagine it as a YouTube video, or a scene in a play - always with humor! Feeling like a character - and maybe also co-creator - in a big cosmic joke! 2) Death. Remembering those who have “crossed the veil” and opening up a conversation with them, they often have a much wider view to offer me. I also find certain physical practices like bowing, enable me to see, feel, experience differently. A practice I learned in the context of my study of Orissi dance, called “bhumi pranam” that a dancer does before starting to dance - it’s a way of apologizing to the earth, and offering gratitude to the earth before the dancer starts to stomp, to dance. It is a beautiful gesture involving the whole body. Although I haven’t danced Orissi in many years, I often do the bhumi pranam, as a way of reminding myself of this sacred world. It helps place me in the company of this vast universe. And brings forth immense gratitude. And a wide and long view. Another practice I sometimes do, while walking, is to simply shift my attention to walk “as if”.. as if the earth were a living breathing organism.... as if I were walking on the back of an elephant, as if I were walking on the back of a whale. I love what this practice opens up in me.
beautiful. I have so much to learn. Your "as if..." practice makes me realize that I do that all the time and in many different ways - sometimes inspired by the book i'm reading I will make my way through my day "as if" that imagined world were real (and, oh, the magic that appears); sometimes, inspired by my kids, I will walk "as if" I were a child (though the world revealed is often one of both wonder and terror. And sometimes my as-if-ing slips me into other worlds from which i can't be sure i've actually returned - oh my ;-)
So sweet! The little people. What an immediate way to see things in a new (and magical!) way. Thank you, Chris! And speaking of magic... (am going to add to a thread from a couple of weeks ago)....
Also, doing the bhumi pranam really helps me experience and “see” my own body and being in a different way. Even if I’m feeling very blah, or encumbered by the tweaks and aches of a twisty spine, an unpredictable pelvis, an SI joint with its mysterious ways .... when I remember to do the bhumi pranam, I at once remember the earth as a sacred, precious and beautiful place, and feel-see myself as part of that sacred beauty as well.
I like the contrast here of humor and death. I think finding the funny is key. I usually find it later- not always in the moment but as I age I notice and love the moments when I can laugh the crazy right in the face
Several years ago I was stuck in a negative toward a very important person in my life. I learned that in rephrasing my descriptions from negative words to positive ones I could then change my perspective. It was surprising and very helpful still - hardheaded becomes determined. Problem becomes challenge. Half-empty becomes half- full. Sometimes I ask for help in just finding a different description, “ what is another way to say...” and will post the words in my line of sight to help stay more open during challenging situations. I enjoyed the pantoum this week and the idea of changing the order to gain perspective.
One boring winter afternoon, I took my five-year-old daughter to the local ice rink. As she and a little friend skated off for a loop together, I sat and noticed: her happy clompy steps, her favorite woolen hat nearly covering her eyes, the laughter bubbling out of her. Wanting to bottle the moment up, I grabbed my phone, titled a new Note “Favorite Moments,” and added the short reminder “Ava ice skating.” A week or two later, another entry, this time simply the title of a poem that made me laugh out loud. Then came the green chili cheeseburgers on a birthday trip with an old friend, then the sweetness of my son giggling as he read Calvin & Hobbes with a flashlight under the covers, then the first ruby-throated hummingbird at the feeder that spring.
That winter day was over a dozen years ago. Each year’s list has gotten longer as the practice has made me better at noticing joy and delight. These noticed moments, digitally bottled and lined up together, took the edges off some dark and turbulent years. At my funeral, I imagine the lists enlarged onto giant post-it notes that fill the room. A life of moments, noticed.
This is gorgeous- the list is a poem itself and I’m totally stealing this idea. I jot down things I want to write about - ideas and I take photos of things that amaze me but I like the idea of writing down moments to hold onto later
Yup. Lovely practice. I need something like this more consistently integrated into my daily practice.
What a wonderful practice! Thank you for sharing so I can borrow and adapt it in my life. Perhaps a year from now we can compare lists!
Chris, I’d be fascinated! I began adding gratitude photos a few years ago and highly recommend if you are so inclined.
I made my first list entry!
I love this! Thanks Amy.
What a beautiful practice. It has awakened me to moments of pure delight and to capturing them. Like last night when a band of children came out of the fog in raggedy clothes and raggedy lines, all showing off their walking sticks, like "Miss Nancy." Thank you for helping me remember to capture and treasure these things.
Your writing reminds me of a poem I can't find but wrote into my 8th grade diary so long ago and have looked for all these years because I somehow lost or threw away that diary! It begins: If only I could hold your face, wrap up the light in your eyes and put it away safekeeping, safekeeping against....." I can only remember fragments of the rest! But it feels like the spirit of how you held these moments and how they so poignantly comforted you....moving words that touch me Amy!
Wonderful Emmy!
Yesterday, I attended my son’s ceremony of recognizing excellence, when I first had this invitation by the school, I was elated. I remembered how such moments were outside of me for more brilliant girls during our time. But still, I admired that, one being called out at assembly in the main hall in that boarding school to receive their certificate. The the way the girls walked, those few girls had mastered the art. Small determined steps taken to meet the headmistress who was a white Franscican nun . Funnily enough, I don’t remember the rest of us cheering. Possibly we were jealousy of them! But that was decades ago!
And here I was in another big hall in yet another boarding school! Both girls and boys study here. And one of them is my own son one of the few to be recognized.
I came with a new letter I had written for him and an old one he had left at home. I watched him read my letter. Normally very restraint in showing his emotions, this time he stretched his hand to part my shoulder furthest from him and he hugged me in to say thank you mummy! And my, how I ululated when his name was called and then I ululated for every single student after that making the room electric! And then a student’s name was called, then I saw a couple move forward, a man with his wife, walking quietly and elegantly to receive their son’s award. They showed no emotion, just their dignity and presence as if of duty, as if in honour - we all watched them but I did ululate for them for writing something we couldn’t put a finger.
For the prayers, the music blown out flutes, the student’s dances, the momentous certificates, the wrapped gifts, the rain, the parents in their Busuti and the minister who caused the singing of the national anthem twice yesterday, such was away a great school with multitudes of good teachers and their headteacher remembered talent! Well done Makerere College school!
I have a lot of friends who are performance artists -- dancers, drag queens and kings, burlesque performers... They've created an incredible platform for what they do, and I go see their performances once or twice a month. I always feel transported by the way they offer themselves to the world with magnificence, yes, but also with sadness, ache and deep humanity. They've taught me a lot about truth and artifice, about accepting what's in you, letting it breathe and looking out at the world through your own eyes. They have access to a freedom I'm still learning, and I feel like they are my therapists. They've really helped me see myself and the world in new ways, and I'm so grateful for them.
This is beautiful. Thank you so much. 🙏 “They have access to a freedom I’m still learning” really rang a bell within me, and I’m so drawn to the same energy.
I just wrote the same- then saw your comment. Cheers!
I really like this noticing of people who have “access to freedom (you) are still learning.” That is beautiful.
This was just lovely. You gave me cause to reflect on the many performers I’ve seen over the years, and how much they touched me, even changed me in unexpected ways. I’m so glad you shared this. 😊
Transformative narrative. The way we all “offer ourselves to the world” with truth and essence and acceptance of what is in us..
Thank you for naming this for us ❣️
Hi JS. Here’s the post I wrote. https://pocketfulofprose.substack.com/p/a-rainbow-is-an-internal-reflection Thanks for letting me quote you and for inspiring me with your words.
Thank you! I loved your piece.
This makes me so happy!
JS : WOW just WOW . I am grateful that you shared this with us !!. I LOVE the bit about having access to th kind of freedom your friends have and how they are helping you enter into that kind of freedom
Hi JS, I started to put together my post for next Sunday which I guess is about becoming more open as I age in some ways. I was wondering if I could quote you and share what you wrote about access to a freedom you are still learning. I can share the writing in advance if it is preferable. 😊
Yes, sure. :-)
I'd love to read it, but please feel free.
Thank you! I would love to share with you before Sunday. 😊 I’m excited and a little nervous.
Hi JS. I have my post together and I’m happy with how it is coming out. Right now I’m quoting you, but I don’t use your name. I’m also using they, them pronouns. Let me know if you would like me to use your name and how you would like that to appear and if you would prefer different pronouns. I can also send you a snippet of what I’ve got with the part that includes your quote, if you email me at Substack. Grateful!!
Dear Poetry Unbound community, dear Padraig, thank you for this sacred Sunday space.
To your question:: When I was seven, I inherited my parents's big bedroom. Each new year's eve, I would sit in the chair in the corner. I imagined the crown of my head opening. With eyes closed, I sorted through pieces of "brain paper". I crumpled up the memories that I didn't need. I carefully folded the memories I wanted into tiny squares (to make room for the new year), tucked them back in my head and closed the lid.
Perhaps my earliest form of meditation?🌱
Thank you for asking, Padraig.
This is a gorgeous practice, Katharine, and so beautifully described here. Thank you for posting here in this sacred Sunday space!
Seven? Katharine, you are an inspiration. I didn’t learn the concept of shelving memories until I was an adult and I’m still sorting it.
Mary, I’m still sorting. Must have been a quirky 7 year old! Yet remembering that I started sorting at seven helps me when I feel muddled as an adult.🌱
I’m taking a writing course this Spring that helped me channel back to some of the wisdom from my childhood. So I really like this, the idea that some of our knowing was with us, innate to us as children. I find it comforting too.
It is comforting. And daunting in a way. I remember wondering if I needed to ask my parents’ permission to do my ritual of noticing.
So happy for your writing course. I hope your memories surface. I am almost always amazed at what surfaces when Padraig asks a question.🌱
Same! He has a gift!
At seven?! How beautiful.
'I crumpled up the memories that I didn't need. I carefully folded the memories I wanted into tiny squares (to make room for the new year), tucked them back in my head and closed the lid." LOVE this . What a visual imagination bounced up when I read this phrase. I used it today when talking with a collegue about what we are going to do with memories of personnal trauma, me as a young child from Belfast an area in North Belfast called New Lodge and her as a member of the Ba Hutu community here in Rwanda.. For both of us, quite often our most vivid pain ful memories ; play an instrumental role as we work with children and gran children of Genocide survivors and their families. The image of carefully folding ,as opposed to rippping to shreds, the memories we would like to FORGET because they bring has been used to remind us both that we not our memories but they can wander with us individually and as a team as we walk along side with communities processing how they carefully fold their memories Thank You!!
Taking photographs helps me see things in a new way. Zooming in on a lovely flower, I may find a small bug nesting, or notice a stripe of color from a different angle. Moreover, in order to focus, I slow down. Slowing down helps me observe, reflect, and form connections in mind and in the world.
Yes! I know some people say leave your camera at home when you want to be here now but , for me, having the camera allows me to really be here now. I am paying close attention to the world around me and then sometimes I stop and take in one scene via the camera. I think it helps me to stay in the present
moment.
YES! You put this beautifully.
Thank you. I love that the camera inspires to get up close and personal with flowers and seashells and the world in general.
Yes! My phone perhaps pulls me away but my camera pulls me in. Yesterday, I captured a swallowtail visiting on a sunflower.
That sounds so lovely!
Ahhhh...one of my fellow shutterbugs. I love what you said about focusing. It really is a feeling of grounding, when you’re in the zone, taking your time and breathing in all the photos that are suddenly possible. ♥️
“Breathing in photos” - that’s lovely!
Yes! Sometimes the act of zooming in reveals lots of tiny wonders!
Slowing down to notice... yes...
me too, Karen!
Karen, I love to do the same. I spend more time engaged with the beauty I've noticed and I enjoy contemplating the difference between seeing and noticing. The camera will faithfully capture all of the visual information and that will differ from the particular thing that drew my attention - software versus wetware.
Amen Karen. Taking photos allow me to NOTICE (it’s a challenge though when others tell me to PUT THE CAMERA away and just enjoy)… I have had to defend my feelings that TO ME, I see and get to NOTICE and appreciate the moments. I enjoy the chance to capture moments (even before cell phone cameras, I was notorious for taking photos) I only wish I was better at ORGANIZING the photos (both before digital as well as digital) — I love the various ways we cultivate NOTICING — to document, to remember. I believe stories matter… thank you for being a fellow shutterbug.
Hmmm, organizing photos is a challenge for me, too! Thank you for sharing your experiences.
Every morning, I write two lists that I share with friends: things I am grateful for, and things that I accept. The first is fairly easy, and the second takes just a bit more consciousness and energy to move things from resistance or frustration to a place where I can accept them as they are—namely, things over which I have no power. It’s a helpful moment for me in really assessing the sources of friction and tension in my life, and figuring out what actions I need to take, and where I need to simply loosen and soften.
In a longer sense of time, my annual trips to the Newport Folk Festival in Rhode Island followed by a vacation in Provincetown, Massachusetts on Cape Cod are my only true and consistent rituals in the calendar. I look forward to them as an opportunity to welcome new art, new people, new experiences—but with just enough sameness that I can see how the person I am bringing in myself each year is changing and evolving. It marks my aging quite literally, as I have a quiet birthday with friends in Provincetown every year, and allows me to see how certain parts of myself are either growing or shying away: my queerness, my creativity, my kindness, my recovery and liberation work, my willingness to keep my heart open to others. While I can and do work toward these things daily, it is only with a longer lens that I can get a view of real progress—some annually, and some in even generational time—and in these places, I can get that view. For this, I’m very grateful. I’ll add it to the list.
Have a beautiful day, and thanks for this space and time in virtual community that I really cherish on Sunday mornings.
Thanks for sharing your morning ritual. Sounds so wise. I'm going to try it...feels like self-compassion to me.
What a tender note in this piece in particular. Thank you for such a grounding contribution: “ I look forward to them as an opportunity to welcome new art, new people, new experiences—but with just enough sameness that I can see how the person I am bringing in myself each year is changing and evolving. It marks my aging quite literally, as I have a quiet birthday with friends in Provincetown every year, and allows me to see how certain parts of myself are either growing or shying away: ”
This idea of two lists is a really good one.
Sometimes I find space to notice the world in a more attentive way when it finds me - what you seek is seeking you - when a loose connection from some time previous re-appears out of the blue - wherever that is - and gently offers me, invites me to, a space and time both familiar and new. Sometimes I notice my noticing when I step out of the flow to do something on my own - a reflective exercise. Sometimes I notice my noticing when I step into the flow - place myself in the way - and brace myself as cold water flows over me and around me. And sometimes I simply sit with my noticing - like watching a sunset from the Bere Penninsula - or I lie down with it on my belly on the inner edge of Dún Aonghusa on Inis Mór, Galway and stare down and out at the ocean and sky around. Some of these things, I have done as recently as yesterday. And some, not for an age. Either way, they all age with me. And so me and my seeing are only as alone as we forget ourselves to be.
You guys are killin me! Such gorgeous observations and ponderings this week. It is a blessing to have found this community.
"And so me and my seeing are only as alone as we forget ourselves to be." What a powerful statement this is. Thank you.
“Some of these things, I have done as recently as yesterday. And some, not for an age. Either way, they all age with me. And so me and my seeing are only as alone as we forget ourselves to be.” Chef’s kiss on that sentiment — and thank you for sharing your gift with words.
You are very kind. I only found those words in that order because of the invitation in Pádraig’s question. And by following a spider’s thread therein. What a special place this is. Thank you for co-creating it.
Running has always opened a space of presence and distance. Today is Father’s Day, and I went for a run on my local trails, a place I haven’t been in over a year. It was a beautiful morning, although it ended in a pulled calf muscle. But in that pain and frustration, I found myself present and aware of my body in a way that I am often not. At the same time I thought about a course that I am teaching this summer. I distanced myself from the somatic experience of my pulled calf and thought deeply about the content and structure of my course. Presence and distance in the same hour and six minutes.
I find running and writing to be deeply connected for me - trails are my sanctuary. As an athlete I’ve had injuries over the years too but the trails are always there to welcome me back and the absences have helped me to never take even one run for granted. Wishing you speedy healing and a joyful return!
Thank you so much for those words of encouragement, Tami. I agree about the trails always welcome you back. I find it quite fascinating. How change can be both imperceptible and obvious, both in myself, and in the natural world around me. And running the same trail over and over reveals that--The same, but different. Just like “the self.”
I find this too- returning to the same trail- noticing the same but different- it’s kind of a transcendent experience
Yes, yes! - beautiful
I was thinking running helps me see things in a new way too! Presence and distance -- yes. Presence in my body. I want to feel my heart beat and notice how the air feels going into my lungs. It tells me the temperature and humidity level. I notice the sky and the trees. My feet tell me if it’s muddy or the trail is solid. Then the filters I typically process through fall away. Distance from some of my thinking patterns. I’m too much in my body to be in my head. Things come up that I’ve been trying to avoid or a challenge becomes clearer. Or nothing happens but I’ve felt my body and I’m more settled. So for a bit I can see from a more settled place.
I can certainly appreciate that space that you find yourself in when you are running. I loved that time back in the day. I could run miles and miles and miles and enjoy every. moment. Unfortunately, some major health issues took away my ability to run (much grief over that loss) but I have found that cycling is also a way for me to find presence and distance. Thanks for reminding me of the joys of running.
Thanks for your thoughtful remarks. it’s a good reminder that we aren’t defined by the activities we are able to do. Many times our abilities come and go. Some of us experience a temporary inability while others, like yourself have to come to terms with a complete change of activity. Your comment reminds me to be thankful for whatever I am able to do.
What a lovely thought. I am working my way back to running, but how much I have grown through the more sedate pace of walking, so much that my thoughts are turning away from marathon dreams to pilgrimage. "Be thankful for whatever I am able to do."
so well observed 🌱
I find that running and waking unleash ideas and new perspectives. I’m sorry about your injury. I’m not very patient with my body when it fails me and I’m realizing what a privileged perspective that is and one that will need to shift as I move into middle age and beyond. What course are you teaching? Teaching is such a beautiful profession. I am now in my 22nd year.
I’m teaching introduction to ethics. It has been a series of frustrations because I am teaching it online and our university system is moving to a new online learning platform. Which means excessive headaches involving moving material over from the previous system. It’s also a summer session so I have to cut down the amount of content from 15 weeks to 5. Haha.
Teaching online is hard.
Pulled calf muscles hurt! I hope it feels better soon!
Thanks Tricia. Me too. I’ve been stuck on the “concrete trails“ with the jogging stroller and try to get back out on the dirt and leaves. Did a bit too much. Haha
Been there! Feels so good until it doesn’t!
Every time I hear Gautam Srikishan's "Praise the Rain" I see things in a new way. I don't know what there is about that music but I have an emotional reaction every time. I get a lump in my throat and sometimes tears and then I give thanks. What an impact!
I wonder if this music was written in response to Joy Harjo's poem by the same name? That poem also makes me cry.
Thanks for pointing the way to a wonderful poem!
I don’t know that song but I agree that is how Harjo’s poem makes me feel. I wrote my own praise the poem and I encourage others to do the same
Praise Poetry Unbound and the community we find here
I agree!
Thank you for mentioning this! I hadn't heard that particular piece of music. Just now I am enjoying it.
Yesssss! Thanks for pointing to that.
Every single time you read the poem again on every single episode of Poetry Unbound, it is an entirely different poem for me. After explication, after some background or even just after a second reading I notice something else that enhances my understanding. Anything or anywhere we revisit is ritual and if we can explore within ritual instead of calcifying it, ritual is a gorgeous safe space and container for the unexpected wherever we may be. The unexpected isn't always easy but it is what grows us.
Thank you for this prompt for reflection Padraig
I experience Pádraig's re-reading the same way!
Thank you for this, Amy! “...if we can explore within ritual instead of calcifying it, ritual is a gorgeous safe space and container for the unexpected wherever we may be.”
That's the trick isn't it? Tricky.
Poetry is definitely something that helps me see things in a new way. Both reading and writing it. What poetry does is it rises something up from being merely an object and turns it into a subject, which can be viewed from many angles. Indeed, poetry is often about trying to look at something from as many angles as possible. And in so doing, you see the subject of poetic contemplation in a new light.
Poetry does shift the perspective. : )
It has to be “ crafting a question “ from a “ certainty”. Having the courage to put a question mark instead of a period
I love this so much, Marta. Lately I’ve been sitting with the idea that all certainty is an illusion as a way to open some things up. I love your courageous framing. 🙏
Thank you, Tom. Be well. Be happy
Just recently I started making a daily list of small things I am grateful for. I always avoided this kind of practice, thinking it would feel false or saccharine, but I am surprised to find that it is a path towards accepting life as it is, right in the moment. Not wanting things to be different, really seeing how things are and feeling into them. This practice has been a surprise and a gift, and I find it spilling over into my daily life--it wakes me up, and I find myself seeing the world in a new way.
Ross Gay convinced me to try this, finally. It is definitely a revelatory and rewarding practice.
Thank you. I have avoided the practice for similar reasoning. You have given me reason to try it.
My spiritual director got me started doing collages. I begin with a question, an aspect of my life where something feels unresolved. Then I look through my collection of magazines, cards and calendars, cutting out images that want to be part of the collage. I have no plan. I let the images choose themselves and then I keep rearranging them until the pattern feels right. The collage I created this weekend was revelatory. I was trying to give my younger self what I needed to endure my husband's descent through Alzheimer's. In the process of making the collage, I realized I had been given, all along, what I needed.
♥️♥️ I’m going to start doing this, too. It gets my graphic designer’s blood stirred up. Thank you for sharing your practice, and your discovery.
Beautiful. "I had been given, all along, what I needed." Thank you.
Thank you for sharing this. When I place mosaic pieces, I find a peace. I am glad to hear that you have found this practice to help with the very difficult situation of your husband’s condition. I am sorry.
I can only imagine that you might continue to create new patterns that fit for any particular day as you accompany your husband into the descent, an ever changing landscape that takes away familiarity asking only that you too find freedom in the uncertainty of impermanence as we all must. I wish you well, courage and strength, drawing upon your discovery of inner resources that will accompany you along this path.
So so beautiful Deacon. Thank you for sharing 🙏🏾.
Having my son has been such an exquisite noticing of becoming human. Watching him grow I discover things about my own becoming.
“What helps you see things in a new way?” Simply opening up to the inquiry already begins to melt what felt solid, opening up space for possibility... for something new. There are many “practices” that help me, some formal and some informal. Two that arose spontaneously that I at times now will also consciously bring forth: 1) Humor. Whatever I am going through or struggling with, I begin to imagine it as a YouTube video, or a scene in a play - always with humor! Feeling like a character - and maybe also co-creator - in a big cosmic joke! 2) Death. Remembering those who have “crossed the veil” and opening up a conversation with them, they often have a much wider view to offer me. I also find certain physical practices like bowing, enable me to see, feel, experience differently. A practice I learned in the context of my study of Orissi dance, called “bhumi pranam” that a dancer does before starting to dance - it’s a way of apologizing to the earth, and offering gratitude to the earth before the dancer starts to stomp, to dance. It is a beautiful gesture involving the whole body. Although I haven’t danced Orissi in many years, I often do the bhumi pranam, as a way of reminding myself of this sacred world. It helps place me in the company of this vast universe. And brings forth immense gratitude. And a wide and long view. Another practice I sometimes do, while walking, is to simply shift my attention to walk “as if”.. as if the earth were a living breathing organism.... as if I were walking on the back of an elephant, as if I were walking on the back of a whale. I love what this practice opens up in me.
beautiful. I have so much to learn. Your "as if..." practice makes me realize that I do that all the time and in many different ways - sometimes inspired by the book i'm reading I will make my way through my day "as if" that imagined world were real (and, oh, the magic that appears); sometimes, inspired by my kids, I will walk "as if" I were a child (though the world revealed is often one of both wonder and terror. And sometimes my as-if-ing slips me into other worlds from which i can't be sure i've actually returned - oh my ;-)
So sweet! The little people. What an immediate way to see things in a new (and magical!) way. Thank you, Chris! And speaking of magic... (am going to add to a thread from a couple of weeks ago)....
Also, doing the bhumi pranam really helps me experience and “see” my own body and being in a different way. Even if I’m feeling very blah, or encumbered by the tweaks and aches of a twisty spine, an unpredictable pelvis, an SI joint with its mysterious ways .... when I remember to do the bhumi pranam, I at once remember the earth as a sacred, precious and beautiful place, and feel-see myself as part of that sacred beauty as well.
I like the contrast here of humor and death. I think finding the funny is key. I usually find it later- not always in the moment but as I age I notice and love the moments when I can laugh the crazy right in the face
Several years ago I was stuck in a negative toward a very important person in my life. I learned that in rephrasing my descriptions from negative words to positive ones I could then change my perspective. It was surprising and very helpful still - hardheaded becomes determined. Problem becomes challenge. Half-empty becomes half- full. Sometimes I ask for help in just finding a different description, “ what is another way to say...” and will post the words in my line of sight to help stay more open during challenging situations. I enjoyed the pantoum this week and the idea of changing the order to gain perspective.