Quiet Can Be Powerful, Too

A midweek dispatch

“Put your ear down close to your soul and listen hard.” ~ Anne Sexton

I knelt down close
to the daffodils bowing,
listened to wind fluting
through budding branches,
blossoms and debris
both blowing through me.

Where is the music?
Where is the song
that will bring back
the lilt, the love
the lift in the heart
that always returns?

Ah, there it is.

I found it when a stranger smiled.
I felt it when a story
made me laugh.
It gave a gentle squeeze
when I stopped trying
to be anyone else.

I blew kisses
to my beloveds,
one south, one north,
and one right here on the couch
next to me.

I said thank you
in every language I know.
And for today, this was prayer enough.

This afternoon I took a couch nap. When I got up, I said to M.J. as they laid out delicates on the drying rack in the dining room, "What I'm not going to ask is, 'What's wrong with me?'"

There is nothing wrong with you.

I want to be uplifting or reassuring or a source of comfort or courage. I don't have any of that in me it seems.

Yet I feel that I should, which is why it occurred to me today that maybe one of my stress responses is to be self-critical, i.e. what am I doing to help people through this terrifying time, and is it enough?

Fear, shame, rage, sorrow, contradictions. Horrible things are happening and I can't stop them. Beneath it all: I love you.

Art and writing, community and creativity, cooking and music, joy and connection, prayer and friendship are not irrelevant or extraneous. They are what keep us going. They are what keep us human.

The little things are never little.

Quiet can be powerful, too. Steady yourself. Wing against mountain. Heart quivering like a hummingbird. Joy always matters. Generosity always matters. Kindness always matters.

Keep going with me.

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