Even if only asking this lifelong question to ourselves?
My life partner passed to the beyond but a week or so ago and this question plays in my head, my heart, my waking -
Is this not a good time to grow? Am I listening, opening, wondering, living into every moment come heaven or hell, drinking in the waters of loss and beyond?
Prayer 🙏🏼 is in the asking and the listening, the continual opening and releasing as this very breath
Oh I’m so sorry for this very recent grief. I am looking at your verve and verbs here: listening, opening, wondering, loving, drinking in the waters of loss and beyond. Thank you for these words.
And I know everyone here joins in looking and noticing and being glad for your sharing. And wishing for enough of whatever is needed in these early weeks of grief.
So beautiful, Juju! May you tread lightly into the mysterious space of grief. I've found much learning there myself. My heart is with you in this time of loss.
Amazed that you could find the poise and strength to share so soon after losing your life partner. I'm glad our community offers you some support. Not knowing you I send love anyway, of course.
Oh Juju, I’m so very sorry for the loss of your partner. I’m amazed you’re even able to ask this question and write with such eloquence. “Prayer 🙏🏼 is in the asking and the listening, the continual opening and releasing as this very breath.” Thank you for this. Sending moonbeams of comfort your way.
Dec 10, 2023·edited Dec 15, 2023Liked by Pádraig Ó Tuama
"I had a terror — since September — I could tell to none — and so I sing, as the Boy does by the Burying Ground — because I am afraid "
Why? Hmm... the words - "terror" "Burying Ground" "afraid" ... The past two months, like many, I have been bearing witness - through a screen - to the continuing horrors and humanitarian catastrophe in Gaza, one I struggle to find words to accurately describe - and in the midst of it, I was so moved to see a group of Palestinian journalists singing. These were men, once boys, sheltered in Nasser hospital, while heavy shelling was happening around them. I was moved to see them singing, and in the video clip, I recognized one of the journalists, Wael Al-Dahdouh, the bureau chief of Al-Jazeera in Gaza City, whose wife and children were killed by Israeli airstrikes while he was reporting the news, whose grief was televised, whose face I recognized well from seeing it soaked with tears ... thinking at the time how there was something very soft and sweet in his face... and thinking of the courage it must take to show up and continue to report the news.. and then to see this image of him, with a group of other men, singing... not knowing if any moment would be their last... this line of Emily Dickinson's struck me. It reminded me, also, of Bertolt Brecht's line, "In the dark times / Will there also be singing? / Yes, there will also be singing. / About the dark times.” And it made me think too of how when I am really stuck, emotionally stuck, if I have the wherewithal to get myself to turn on some music, and sing along, however poorly it may sound, or to chant... how it does something. There is a transformation. It moves things.
I was struck by Burying Ground being capitalized, and seeing it that way made me feel as if this Burying Ground is something we all share, which of course it is. But in grief, I think we often forget this. It's not "my" burying ground. It is all of ours.
I too was very much struck with the Melody and Witchcraft line, Pádraig, and that will stay with me too. Thank you for sharing this remarkable letter and the invitation to connect in.
** just an addendum, as of 15th December, if anyone reads this - the journalist I wrote about here, Wael Al-Dahdouh, along with his colleague, Samer Abu Daqqa, were injured as a result of Israeli airstrikes in the vicinity of Farhana Girls School in Khan Younis in the South of Gaza Strip. Wael Al-Dahdough is being treated for injuries to his arm and should be "okay." Samer Abu Daqqa, fellow journalist and cameraperson for Al-Jazeera, was not so "fortunate." It appears that continuous Israeli shelling for over 5 hours and rubble in the road prevented a rescue team from getting to Samer in time and when he was finally reached, he had bled to death. May he rest in peace.
The world so desperately needs to sing a song right now. Who knows the lyrics?
Mona, those words also spoke to me, but I was working to put in the context of the times in which they were written. Thank you for bringing the context of today, with so much burying from so much war.
Thank you for the idea of turning on music and singing along, however badly. I feel drawn to that. I will try it and think of you and all your wonderful posts in this space.
Oh that’s so sweet of you to say, Deacon. Yes, let’s both sing, however “bad” it sounds! (I had a singing teacher I went to just once tell me “well, if you know it doesn’t sound in tune, then it actually means you’ve got a good ear.”). 🎶 I guess that’s something! ;)
PS- for those who don’t subscribe to the NYT, this is the 11-17-23 episode of The Ezra Klein Show. All the shows around the October 7th attack are worth a listen.
The entire show was cathartic, but learning of the Palestinian and Israeli people who have decided to mourn - together - the loved ones killed in this ongoing horror was especially moving.
Thank you for sharing this perspective. I continually learn from your posts. ❤️
Thank you for sharing that, Mandy! I listen to Ezra Klein sometimes but have not heard this episode. I’ll tune in. YES. How can we not fall prey to the oldest trick in the powers that be that don’t want to give it up strategy of divide and conquer? Can we recognize our common ground? It’s been very moving to be part of some actions calling for a ceasefire and more, co-organized by Jewish and Palestinian groups, here in NYC, to see - this narrative that these groups can never get along - it’s one story. Others exist too. But here we are. The amount of death, torture and destruction is heart shattering. Thank you for your kind words, Mandy. ♥️🙏🏾
Oh Mona, to bear witness calls for deep courage of heart and mind, to not turn away or go numb, and then to see:
“I recognized one of the journalists, Wael Al-Dahdouh, the bureau chief of Al-Jazeera in Gaza City, whose wife and children were killed by Israeli airstrikes while he was reporting the news, whose grief was televised, whose face I recognized well from seeing it soaked with tears.”
To bring reality to the truth, truth to reality, I believe takes a poet, a musician, a writer, to give we who are outside of the suffering, a feel for the pain of those dying, unsheltered, made invisible. This is tragedy that needs bearing in order to create enlightened beings who see into ML King’s truth, hatred breeds hatred, only love can bring peace.
Thank you for your bringing this understanding forward. We need wise and fierce compassion.
What a wise heart! All you say here.. and, thank you so much for reading and engaging. 🙏🏾The ongoing practice of bearing witness, keeping my heart open ( - to all - ), of staying grounded enough to see through and see clearly, and to have the fire and the water of fierce compassion guide me... this, for me, an ongoing practice!
Thinking of you with all you’re holding, and walking with, and praying with. Sending sunbeams your way.
Agreed. I'd never thought of it in this way, the need for nakedness so we can get to the actual thing we mean to write so it isn't dressed like everything we read.
I liked that phrase as well. It reminded me of the delight we have in our first thoughts, but then how they often disappoint when we try to dress them up into poetry.
“You ask of my Companions. Hills — Sir — and the Sundown — and a Dog — large as myself, that my Father bought me — They are better than Beings — because they know — but do not tell...”
These lines prompt me to consider all the parts of creation who, without speech, share these ways of knowing and being. Consider, for example, the language of trees transmitting messages through the earth, root to root, to the tip of their leaves at the height of their crowns! While I listening to the wind stand unable to translate, struck silent with wonder and awe!
I love this observation, Todd. Often on my neighborhood walks I put my hand on the trunk of a tree. They feel like companions, so steady and upright, I get a jolt of support by leaning on the threes for a minute.
Oh this is fascinating, I’ve never read any of her letters before. Each time I re-read it a different part jumps out. This one is what I’m currently left with...
“I had a terror — since September — I could tell to none — and so I sing, as the Boy does by the Burying Ground — because I am afraid”
The shadow thread that runs through the whole letter, the avoiding of words that follow her into the “Dark” and the weaving in of folks who have influenced her in different ways. It’s quite the experience to read. Thank you for sharing!
Padraig, thank you for this remarkable letter from 1862 and today's 2023 prompt! There is SO MUCH in the letter, but the line that lured me down the rabbit hole was: "I read Miss Prescott's 'Circumstance' but it followed me, in the Dark -- so I avoided her --" Talk about the presence of absence: avoiding someone takes effort while acknowledging their existence! The word "Dark" is capitalized as a proper noun, like "Devil," also like the black panther in Miss Prescott's story. Miss Prescott's own life and the allegorical story she wrote to earn money both portray the conditions for women (and women writers) in the 19th century. "Circumstance," (1860) quotes directly from the last lines of Milton's "Paradise Lost" (1667), which Emily Dickinson is known to have read, "The world was all before them, where to choose."
I cannot avoid the immensity of life, immortality, good, evil, humility, optimism, agency, and art contained in this line. Happy 193rd Birthday, Emily Dickinson!
Emily, this was the line that struck me too. If you're curious see my post above? below? (I'm not clear how our posts arrange themselves, but no matter.
“You ask of my Companions. Hills — Sir — and the Sundown — and a Dog — large as myself, that my Father bought me — They are better than Beings — because they know — but do not tell — “
She is joined in silent contemplation by these silent companions. Like a kind of worship. Very poignant.
The dashes - everywhere - yet, discriminate - the syntax - uniquely, Emily - between the thought - the spaces themselves thought - rest notes and arrows - inserted - amidst the words - the meaning - the silence - the import - the music - the beauty - the terror
But from her letter, this line left me wondering: "When a little Girl, I had a friend, who taught me Im-mortality — but venturing too near, himself — he never returned." Talk about heft...
I didn't have to go far to find it: "Your kindness claimed earlier gratitude — but I was ill — and write today, from my pillow." And so I lie, thumbing this as mine to choose. Or, has it chosen me?
Here she is, Emily, reaching out to a human being to grow from her vast lack of experience with human beings who can be present to her. How uniquely she expresses her Isolation , abandonment , terror here. Yet how she yearns to connect in order that she can measure her own value! Reading these lines over and over is rich
So true! It’s fitting that I’ve read and re-read this letter throughout the day, as the content seems to change and blossom into something more as time passes.
There are so many in this letter; "While my thought is undressed — I can make the distinction, but when I put them in the Gown — they look alike, and numb". Thoughts undressed and gowned! What a gorgeous way to describe raw thinking- reworked. I lived one hour from her home in MA and visited her home on several occasions. I highly recommend Dickenson on Apple TV- 3 season with Hailie Steinfeld as Emily..... a coming of "millential age" story that I found completely brilliant. Wendy
Oh thank you for recommending “Dickenson” I just added it to my watch list. I also live an hour away from her home but never visited her home. Now added to my venture list!
Emily was one of the first poets I came across as a child and she will always be one of my favourites. I feel her poetry has deeply impacted my own. I use the em dash because of her work. Emily Dickinson still inspires me to this day. She was a wonderfully unique human being and her talent lives on in the many poets she has inspired ✒️
Dec 10, 2023·edited Dec 10, 2023Liked by Pádraig Ó Tuama
I love the whole letter. She is so much herself in her own way. I sometimes think Emily Dickinson saved my life. The line from her poetry that matters most to me is not her cleverest, but one that introduces a poem I believe is about dissociation in relation to trauma. The line is this one:
After great pain, a formal feeling comes –
Because of this, the part of the letter that jumps out to me is:
I had a terror — since September — I could tell to none —
I wonder how such a mention of “a terror” would have landed in that time. She tells that this thing happened without naming it. This feels brave. She has always seemed so brave in being herself and in writing about the unwriteable.
- Could you tell me how to grow -
Is this not applicable to everyone?
Even if only asking this lifelong question to ourselves?
My life partner passed to the beyond but a week or so ago and this question plays in my head, my heart, my waking -
Is this not a good time to grow? Am I listening, opening, wondering, living into every moment come heaven or hell, drinking in the waters of loss and beyond?
Prayer 🙏🏼 is in the asking and the listening, the continual opening and releasing as this very breath
Oh I’m so sorry for this very recent grief. I am looking at your verve and verbs here: listening, opening, wondering, loving, drinking in the waters of loss and beyond. Thank you for these words.
And I know everyone here joins in looking and noticing and being glad for your sharing. And wishing for enough of whatever is needed in these early weeks of grief.
Thanking… you, everyone
For this space, your care
Our community 🕊️
Let me go forward step by step
Into the mystery, the stillness,
Held by the hand of grace
"Let me go forward step by step
Into the mystery, the stillness,
Held by the hand of grace"
So beautiful, Juju! May you tread lightly into the mysterious space of grief. I've found much learning there myself. My heart is with you in this time of loss.
You are already moving forward, good wishes are with you.
“Held by the hand of grace”, very beautiful…
Amazed that you could find the poise and strength to share so soon after losing your life partner. I'm glad our community offers you some support. Not knowing you I send love anyway, of course.
Peace to you, Juju, and space to process your life-changing experience.
I’m sorry for your loss Juju
I am so sorry for your loss and the hole in your life.
Oh Juju, I’m so very sorry for the loss of your partner. I’m amazed you’re even able to ask this question and write with such eloquence. “Prayer 🙏🏼 is in the asking and the listening, the continual opening and releasing as this very breath.” Thank you for this. Sending moonbeams of comfort your way.
Dear Mona, I feel your moon beam glow coming my way…
Thank you for your care. 🌕
"I had a terror — since September — I could tell to none — and so I sing, as the Boy does by the Burying Ground — because I am afraid "
Why? Hmm... the words - "terror" "Burying Ground" "afraid" ... The past two months, like many, I have been bearing witness - through a screen - to the continuing horrors and humanitarian catastrophe in Gaza, one I struggle to find words to accurately describe - and in the midst of it, I was so moved to see a group of Palestinian journalists singing. These were men, once boys, sheltered in Nasser hospital, while heavy shelling was happening around them. I was moved to see them singing, and in the video clip, I recognized one of the journalists, Wael Al-Dahdouh, the bureau chief of Al-Jazeera in Gaza City, whose wife and children were killed by Israeli airstrikes while he was reporting the news, whose grief was televised, whose face I recognized well from seeing it soaked with tears ... thinking at the time how there was something very soft and sweet in his face... and thinking of the courage it must take to show up and continue to report the news.. and then to see this image of him, with a group of other men, singing... not knowing if any moment would be their last... this line of Emily Dickinson's struck me. It reminded me, also, of Bertolt Brecht's line, "In the dark times / Will there also be singing? / Yes, there will also be singing. / About the dark times.” And it made me think too of how when I am really stuck, emotionally stuck, if I have the wherewithal to get myself to turn on some music, and sing along, however poorly it may sound, or to chant... how it does something. There is a transformation. It moves things.
I was struck by Burying Ground being capitalized, and seeing it that way made me feel as if this Burying Ground is something we all share, which of course it is. But in grief, I think we often forget this. It's not "my" burying ground. It is all of ours.
I too was very much struck with the Melody and Witchcraft line, Pádraig, and that will stay with me too. Thank you for sharing this remarkable letter and the invitation to connect in.
** just an addendum, as of 15th December, if anyone reads this - the journalist I wrote about here, Wael Al-Dahdouh, along with his colleague, Samer Abu Daqqa, were injured as a result of Israeli airstrikes in the vicinity of Farhana Girls School in Khan Younis in the South of Gaza Strip. Wael Al-Dahdough is being treated for injuries to his arm and should be "okay." Samer Abu Daqqa, fellow journalist and cameraperson for Al-Jazeera, was not so "fortunate." It appears that continuous Israeli shelling for over 5 hours and rubble in the road prevented a rescue team from getting to Samer in time and when he was finally reached, he had bled to death. May he rest in peace.
The world so desperately needs to sing a song right now. Who knows the lyrics?
Mona, those words also spoke to me, but I was working to put in the context of the times in which they were written. Thank you for bringing the context of today, with so much burying from so much war.
Indeed, so much burying. Thank you, Karen! Do you know much of the context in which Dickinson (though I want to call her “Emily”) wrote?
Thank you for sharing this poignant story about the Palestinian journalist, Mona.
🙏🏾
Thank you for the idea of turning on music and singing along, however badly. I feel drawn to that. I will try it and think of you and all your wonderful posts in this space.
Oh that’s so sweet of you to say, Deacon. Yes, let’s both sing, however “bad” it sounds! (I had a singing teacher I went to just once tell me “well, if you know it doesn’t sound in tune, then it actually means you’ve got a good ear.”). 🎶 I guess that’s something! ;)
PS- for those who don’t subscribe to the NYT, this is the 11-17-23 episode of The Ezra Klein Show. All the shows around the October 7th attack are worth a listen.
Thanks, Mona, for your eloquent reply.
Thank you Manuel 🙏🏾.
Your words echo the podcast I listened to tonight:
https://www.nytimes.com/2023/11/17/opinion/ezra-klein-podcast-sharon-brous.html
The entire show was cathartic, but learning of the Palestinian and Israeli people who have decided to mourn - together - the loved ones killed in this ongoing horror was especially moving.
Thank you for sharing this perspective. I continually learn from your posts. ❤️
Thank you for sharing that, Mandy! I listen to Ezra Klein sometimes but have not heard this episode. I’ll tune in. YES. How can we not fall prey to the oldest trick in the powers that be that don’t want to give it up strategy of divide and conquer? Can we recognize our common ground? It’s been very moving to be part of some actions calling for a ceasefire and more, co-organized by Jewish and Palestinian groups, here in NYC, to see - this narrative that these groups can never get along - it’s one story. Others exist too. But here we are. The amount of death, torture and destruction is heart shattering. Thank you for your kind words, Mandy. ♥️🙏🏾
Oh Mona, to bear witness calls for deep courage of heart and mind, to not turn away or go numb, and then to see:
“I recognized one of the journalists, Wael Al-Dahdouh, the bureau chief of Al-Jazeera in Gaza City, whose wife and children were killed by Israeli airstrikes while he was reporting the news, whose grief was televised, whose face I recognized well from seeing it soaked with tears.”
To bring reality to the truth, truth to reality, I believe takes a poet, a musician, a writer, to give we who are outside of the suffering, a feel for the pain of those dying, unsheltered, made invisible. This is tragedy that needs bearing in order to create enlightened beings who see into ML King’s truth, hatred breeds hatred, only love can bring peace.
Thank you for your bringing this understanding forward. We need wise and fierce compassion.
What a wise heart! All you say here.. and, thank you so much for reading and engaging. 🙏🏾The ongoing practice of bearing witness, keeping my heart open ( - to all - ), of staying grounded enough to see through and see clearly, and to have the fire and the water of fierce compassion guide me... this, for me, an ongoing practice!
Thinking of you with all you’re holding, and walking with, and praying with. Sending sunbeams your way.
“a Dog — large as myself, that my Father bought me — They are better than Beings — because they know — but do not tell”
Truer words.
NO TRUER WORDS HAVE BEEN SAID....urgh......(sigh out of the ring of truth!)
“While my thought is undressed — I can make the distinction, but when I put them in the Gown — they look alike, and numb.”
What a glorious use of language to describe almost every thought I have and every word I write!
Thank you Padraig for sharing Emily’s birthday with us all.
Agreed. I'd never thought of it in this way, the need for nakedness so we can get to the actual thing we mean to write so it isn't dressed like everything we read.
I liked that phrase as well. It reminded me of the delight we have in our first thoughts, but then how they often disappoint when we try to dress them up into poetry.
Yes! Thank you for singling this point out for us to ponder some more. I fully agree and have been there many times myself!
“You ask of my Companions. Hills — Sir — and the Sundown — and a Dog — large as myself, that my Father bought me — They are better than Beings — because they know — but do not tell...”
These lines prompt me to consider all the parts of creation who, without speech, share these ways of knowing and being. Consider, for example, the language of trees transmitting messages through the earth, root to root, to the tip of their leaves at the height of their crowns! While I listening to the wind stand unable to translate, struck silent with wonder and awe!
I love this observation, Todd. Often on my neighborhood walks I put my hand on the trunk of a tree. They feel like companions, so steady and upright, I get a jolt of support by leaning on the threes for a minute.
I do this, as well! I feel like my neighborhood trees are friends of mine. I know their textures well and have seen them through all the seasons.
Oh this is fascinating, I’ve never read any of her letters before. Each time I re-read it a different part jumps out. This one is what I’m currently left with...
“I had a terror — since September — I could tell to none — and so I sing, as the Boy does by the Burying Ground — because I am afraid”
The shadow thread that runs through the whole letter, the avoiding of words that follow her into the “Dark” and the weaving in of folks who have influenced her in different ways. It’s quite the experience to read. Thank you for sharing!
Yes! From this letter you get the sense of how deeply poetic she was, . Reading this was chilling, but so beautiful.
Padraig, thank you for this remarkable letter from 1862 and today's 2023 prompt! There is SO MUCH in the letter, but the line that lured me down the rabbit hole was: "I read Miss Prescott's 'Circumstance' but it followed me, in the Dark -- so I avoided her --" Talk about the presence of absence: avoiding someone takes effort while acknowledging their existence! The word "Dark" is capitalized as a proper noun, like "Devil," also like the black panther in Miss Prescott's story. Miss Prescott's own life and the allegorical story she wrote to earn money both portray the conditions for women (and women writers) in the 19th century. "Circumstance," (1860) quotes directly from the last lines of Milton's "Paradise Lost" (1667), which Emily Dickinson is known to have read, "The world was all before them, where to choose."
I cannot avoid the immensity of life, immortality, good, evil, humility, optimism, agency, and art contained in this line. Happy 193rd Birthday, Emily Dickinson!
Emily, this was the line that struck me too. If you're curious see my post above? below? (I'm not clear how our posts arrange themselves, but no matter.
“You ask of my Companions. Hills — Sir — and the Sundown — and a Dog — large as myself, that my Father bought me — They are better than Beings — because they know — but do not tell — “
She is joined in silent contemplation by these silent companions. Like a kind of worship. Very poignant.
The dashes - everywhere - yet, discriminate - the syntax - uniquely, Emily - between the thought - the spaces themselves thought - rest notes and arrows - inserted - amidst the words - the meaning - the silence - the import - the music - the beauty - the terror
I love “free verse”…it seems chaotic at times, perhaps hard to follow, but that is its beauty, its mystery that draws one in.
Maybe because I live so close to her town, I see and feel that "certain slant of light" every winter.
I experience its nuisance in the car (driving is fraught when the sunlight penetrates at eye level).
But l love the shadows and colors it casts on the steep wooded terrain near my house.
But from her letter, this line left me wondering: "When a little Girl, I had a friend, who taught me Im-mortality — but venturing too near, himself — he never returned." Talk about heft...
Yes I wondered about that too. Curious...
Me too. I live in the Berkshires, and always captured by the light here, season after season...
I didn't have to go far to find it: "Your kindness claimed earlier gratitude — but I was ill — and write today, from my pillow." And so I lie, thumbing this as mine to choose. Or, has it chosen me?
"I could not weigh myself-Myself."
Here she is, Emily, reaching out to a human being to grow from her vast lack of experience with human beings who can be present to her. How uniquely she expresses her Isolation , abandonment , terror here. Yet how she yearns to connect in order that she can measure her own value! Reading these lines over and over is rich
So true! It’s fitting that I’ve read and re-read this letter throughout the day, as the content seems to change and blossom into something more as time passes.
There are so many in this letter; "While my thought is undressed — I can make the distinction, but when I put them in the Gown — they look alike, and numb". Thoughts undressed and gowned! What a gorgeous way to describe raw thinking- reworked. I lived one hour from her home in MA and visited her home on several occasions. I highly recommend Dickenson on Apple TV- 3 season with Hailie Steinfeld as Emily..... a coming of "millential age" story that I found completely brilliant. Wendy
These were the words that struck me too...
"While my thought is undressed — I can make the distinction, but when I put them in the Gown — they look alike, and numb."
I was still trying to put the reason why into words, when I read yours Wendy.
"What a gorgeous way to describe raw thinking- reworked."
They capture the thought perfectly.
That wisp of inspiration, that glimpsed truth, that you know without words. That hits right in your centre. That isn't at home in our words...
Oh thank you for recommending “Dickenson” I just added it to my watch list. I also live an hour away from her home but never visited her home. Now added to my venture list!
Thanks!
Emily was one of the first poets I came across as a child and she will always be one of my favourites. I feel her poetry has deeply impacted my own. I use the em dash because of her work. Emily Dickinson still inspires me to this day. She was a wonderfully unique human being and her talent lives on in the many poets she has inspired ✒️
I love the whole letter. She is so much herself in her own way. I sometimes think Emily Dickinson saved my life. The line from her poetry that matters most to me is not her cleverest, but one that introduces a poem I believe is about dissociation in relation to trauma. The line is this one:
After great pain, a formal feeling comes –
Because of this, the part of the letter that jumps out to me is:
I had a terror — since September — I could tell to none —
I wonder how such a mention of “a terror” would have landed in that time. She tells that this thing happened without naming it. This feels brave. She has always seemed so brave in being herself and in writing about the unwriteable.
Oh yes, that speaks volumes. Ty for sharing that.
This is beautifully put, and I really appreciate the perspective you bring to the her words. ❤️
“I could not weigh myself — Myself — “
She and her words mystify me—myself a mystery.
Love that!