My Favorite Love Poem

 

Last week I was walking along the St. Joe River; it was early morning and the day was not yet too hot. My walks are restorative and invigorating and I always come away with ideas, things about which I would like to write, or a general plan for what I want to do when I get back home.

Some mornings I prefer to walk in silence, with only the sound of the occasional passing car, a cyclist alerting me, “On the left!” or the squawking geese that make their home on the river’s banks. This morning I listened to Gretchen Rubin’s Happier podcast. Gretchen is a happiness and habits expert; you may have read her books, The Happiness Project or Better Than Before. Her podcasts, which she hosts with her sister Elizabeth Craft, share tips on how to create habits that foster happiness. They also take listener calls.

A woman called in because she wanted suggestions for a reading for her upcoming wedding and she was willing to take ideas from Gretchen or her listeners. Her request took me back to my wedding 10 years ago. I was excited because as I planned the wedding, I remembered a poem that I had always loved. I shared it with Tony before we were married, decided to use it in the ceremony, and asked my father to read it for us.

I don’t know what reading or poem the listener will use for her ceremony—I hope she finds something that she will remember for all the days of her marriage. I wanted to share the poem I selected with you. Paul Laurence Dunbar (1872-1906) wrote the poem; he was a poet, lyricist, and wrote short stories and novels. He was a black man, born in Dayton, Ohio and unfortunately, died much too young. Here is his poem, Invitation to Love.

 

Invitation to Love

Come when the nights are bright with stars

Or when the moon is mellow;

Come when the sun his golden bars

Drops on the hayfield yellow.

Come in the twilight soft and gray,

Come in the night or come in the day,

Come , O love, when’er you may,

And you are welcome, welcome.

 

You are sweet, O love, dear love

You are soft as the nesting dove.

Come to my heart and bring it rest

As the bird flies home to its welcomenest.

 

Come when my heart is full of grief

Or when my heart is merry;

Come with the falling of the leaf

Or with the redd’ning cherry.

Come when the year’s first blossom blows

Come when the summer gleams and glows;

Come with the winter’s drifting snows,

And you are welcome, welcome.

 

– Paul Laurence Dunbar

 

 

 

Inspiration Quote – Work and Contentment

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“Contentment is work so engrossing that you do not know that you are working.”

I found this quote in poet Donald Hall‘s book, Life Work, and like it because it describes the feeling of being so absorbed in work that you can enjoy it and do not see  it as burdensome. Work often has a bad connotation because it has become too associated with employment, compensation, titles, and performance.

I prefer a simpler definition, where work is purposeful activity that has the goal of making or doing something. It can be physical, mental, creative, or spiritual. Its value is not determined by the presence or size of a paycheck. Even when I needlepoint, which is handwork, I am content and engrossed in what I am doing, and eager to see what the outcome will look like.

How do you define work and what work do you find engrossing?

 

Possibility

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When I was in college, there was a girl in my dorm who loved pigs. I don’t think she was from a farming family, but she just found them to be adorable little beings. She had posters of them in her room, maybe even a few other pig-themed items. Aside from Wilbur in the book Charlotte’s Web, I thought of pigs as messy creatures, ones that lolled about in muck, ate and snorted at the same time, fleshy pink blobs with mottled brown spots. The three little pigs, with their homes made of straw, sticks and bricks were more industrious, but a wolf ended up eating two of them anyway. It was hard to fall in love with a pig.

I am from Cincinnati, home of the Flying Pig Marathon. This race winds through the city, its hills and neighborhoods, it even crosses the Ohio River into Kentucky for part of the race. It is a major attraction; over 30,000 get involved by running the marathon or one of the shorter races. The name Flying Pig sets a hopeful tone for runners, but it is also a nod to Cincinnati’s past. Cincinnati was at one time nicknamed Porkopolis, because it was the home of stockyards, slaughterhouses and the railroad system that carried meat to the cities of the Midwest. In the 1800s, the pigs were herded though the streets. The Flying Pig name evokes this history.

Any consideration of my running this race is quelled by the reality of what it would take to complete it – time spent away from goals about which I am more passionate, focused training, regardless of seasons, and the commitment to start and finish no matter the weather on race day. So I pursue other goals; a marathon is not in my future, although I did a half marathon many years ago. I have already decided I will run a race this long when pigs fly.

I dream of trips I want to take, books I will write, time spent with those I love, people that I want to meet. I visualize how I will feel when I choose the fruit over the chips, master the rollover in Pilates, or decorate the small cottage where I can go to restore my spirit. I imagine hikes I will take, strolls around botanical gardens, new cities I will explore, a girls’ trip with my daughter and granddaughter when the little one is older. And while I dream, visualize and imagine, I also plan. I write these ideas down in notebooks, jot them on my smartphone, or give them a home in my mind. At times, I share them with a friend, so we can dream out loud together, or give each other the support and accountability that a dream needs.

Sometimes I ask myself, what does the wish represent? Why is it important, are you sure that is what you really want, or is it a stand-in for something deeper? Then I sit with the thought, turning it over, volleying it back and forth as if in a tennis match, until I understand myself better or decide I can let it go.

I need to make sure that the dreaming and planning does not descend into grasping, craving, and yearning. If it seems like I am heading in that direction, I ask the why question again, and remind myself that where I am right now is a blessing, that I do not always have to be setting up the next thing.

Yet I love the idea of possibility – that there is more in this life if I open myself up, if I am less afraid, take a chance, work, ask for help and guidance, and yes, plan. Last month I was in a bookstore back home, and I came across this quirky statue of a fleshy pink pig, sitting on its haunches, snout lifted upwards, wings on its back as if it is getting ready for takeoff. The statue is ceramic, and if you look closely you can see the cracks in the glaze trailing off in a million different directions, each line leaving traces of its journey. I like that despite the apparent cracks in the piece, it is whole, entire, it has not fallen apart. Like me. A pig can fly.

 

Who Is Your Family?

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I just spent an amazing weekend with my sisters. I call them my sisters even though I grew up as the only girl in a family with my four brothers. Maria is my cousin; I used to babysit her and we also played together; I went to her track meets. Tina and I met at summer camp when I was in grade school, became friends and have stayed close for decades even though we never went to the same schools, never lived in the same neighborhood and since college, have not always lived in the same city. Marie and Yolanda are my sisters-in-law, married to two of my brothers who are twins. I may not have had a sister in the home when I was younger, but I have been blessed with women who have come and stayed in my life.

We were so busy with each other, talking, eating, walking the streets of St. Joseph near Silver Beach, we did not watch TV, or listen to news. The only updates we were interested in were the ones pertaining to our own lives. And the laughter – how we laughed! My husband said that at one point while he was in the family room, he heard the roar of our laughter, first one voice, then another, and it just continued to roll. He knew we were having a good time, and he also knew not to ask what had driven us to laugh like that.

On Sunday, after we enjoyed a sendoff feast, a low country shrimp boil, steaming with red potatoes, sausage, and corn, along with cornbread and lemonade, I tidied up the house and settled in. There wasn’t much to clean up, because this kind of family leaves each other better off. While they were here, my family chopped vegetables for meals, cleaned and dried dishes, and tossed towels in baskets to be washed. When it was time to leave, we hugged our goodbyes and said, “I love you.”

And then I turned on the news and saw a line about Orlando. Another assault, more evidence of the lack of regard some on the planet have for the bodies and hearts of others. Another sign that some confused, lonely, or maybe vengeful people lack an understanding of what it is to walk in love with one another, or do not respect the truth that we are all worthy of love. This morning it took a while to get started, I felt off, disoriented, stunned. Each assault like this seems to creep a bit closer to my spirit, and today I am at a loss about how to stop them. Looking for answers, I went to campus for a walk, intending to listen to music or a podcast. But the noise in my head was too much, I could only be silent, walk, sit on a stone ledge to gather my thoughts, and then walk some more.

People who do not own guns are considering whether or not this is the time to purchase one. I shudder at that thought but it is a choice some have already made, and others will now do the same. Some who are concerned are arming themselves through activism, others with prayer. Those are the approaches that appeal to me. I grieves me to consider the family, friends, and neighbors who will no longer be able to see their loved ones because of the murders in Orlando, and the loss of lives because of rage, despair and intolerance is happening across our country. I pray that the injured and those who lost someone through violence have family to love them through this hard time, and I appreciate my sister-family for being here with me this weekend all the more. Peace and blessings, Ramona

 

Inspiration Quote for June

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It’s June and it finally feels like summer here in northern Indiana. Summer comes with a chance to relax and delight in being outdoors but I also like to use these three months between now and the end of August to focus on a few projects. I have decided on three – one for writing, one for fitness, and another for fun. Deciding on which projects to choose wasn’t hard; one idea I had been mulling over for months. But getting started, now that can be the hard thing.

Last month I used a quote about beginnings and now that it’s time to begin, I have to admit that I am a little tentative because I don’t have all the answers and I don’t exactly know how this will turn out, especially the writing project. Just in time, I found this quote. It nudges me along, encourages me to press on.

I hope it does the same for the artist in you.

“We often procrastinate on creative tasks that can bring us precariously close to the edge of rawness—that sense of not knowing what will issue forth next— words written on the page, the colors on the canvas, the movement and emotions that arise from losing ourselves in the music. We may not know what to do with the grandeur of being alive in this moment.”

– Arnie Kozak in his book Mindfulness A to Z:108 Insights for Awakening Now

Inspiration quote for May

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I came across this quote while reading Julia Cameron’s latest book, It’s Never Too Late to Begin Again. In June I am starting a couple of projects that I’ve been dreaming about for a while. It’s time to get to work and I am excited. Any dreams that you have been holding inside? It is time to begin…

“It has been said that success can be boiled down to two simple rules: 1. Start something. 2. Keep going.”

-Julia Cameron

Writers and Readers: Festival of Faith & Writing

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Things looked quiet Saturday morning but within an hour, the campus of Calvin College in Grand Rapids, Michigan was bustling – full of writers, readers, editors, publishers, and the friendly students who responded to our questions about how to get around. I was there for the biennial Festival of Faith & Writing and this was my second time.

The word faith has many meanings depending on whom you ask; it is kind of like the words religion and spiritual. Faith implies a search for something deeper to define us, but also implies that as much as we search, some things that we profess to believe remain a mystery. I am okay with that. From name tags to tote bags, you saw the word “Reader” everywhere; reading is the heart of the Festival. Through writing, reading and discussion, we can come together to talk about the many issues in the world and in our private lives.

The writers were from various denominations and beliefs and much like through writing, they seek understanding, at times through their faith, and at other times, in spite of it. The focus was always on the writing, but a few authors addressed the process of finding an audience or getting published. Bob Hosack, executive editor with Baker Publishing, emphasized the importance of having a platform because writers are expected to bring an audience with them. As writers, we have heard that before, but for some in the room it confirmed the importance of building a community.

Over the three days, I listened to panels, started the day with poetry readings, and took time to jot down ideas for my own writing. There were more speakers and panels than I could possibly attend, but here are some of the highlights and quotes from the Festival:

Zadie Smith, novelist and essayist, spoke on creativity, saying “Creativity is more than finding the perfect product for the perfect audience.” Her book, Changing My Mind, is one of my favorite essay collections.

Poets Susanna Childress, Barbara Crooker, Tania Runyan, and Anya Silver graced the audience Friday morning by reading their poems on motherhood in all of its forms, and the connections between motherhood, faith and writing. Their readings took place in the College Chapel and it was a perfect setting for sharing the sacred and challenging bonds between mothers and their children.

Dani Shapiro asked an essential question, “Aren’t we all stumbling towards a faith that works for us?” and described her journey, from growing up in an Orthodox Jewish home to embracing Buddhism.

David Dark – “Maybe we already have an audience, a few people who are interested in what we have to say, and maybe that’s enough.”

I took notes, met many authors, had a meeting with an editor, browsed the exhibit hall, bought home books to read and share, and tried to immerse myself in discussions about writing. The writing life can be quiet and solitary, like the campus was at the beginning of each day, but at events like these we gather to share our love for writing.

Mark this date on your calendar, April 12-14, 2018, for the next gathering for the Festival of Faith & Writing.

Happy reading and writing!

On Reading – Inspiration Quote for April

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“What was the highest ambition of literature, the most one could hope for from the experience of reading? One possible answer, it turned out, had to do with a different approach to reading, one based not on a model of linearity, forward progress and accumulation, but on the idea that a reader should be stopped short, turned around, even undone by the text on the page before her.”

– Dana Stevens, from Bookends in The New York Times Book Review

Roadside Assistance

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I live in northern Indiana and often drive to Cincinnati, which is a four-hour drive through cornfields and around Indianapolis before the hills and trees of the southern Ohio valley come into view. Earlier this week I was about an hour away from home (I will always call Cincinnati home, even though I have not lived there for years) when the warning lights flashed on the dashboard. First I heard a beep, the check engine light lit up, followed by a funny-looking icon. My car, although it is reliable, is old and I thought about stopping to see what was going on. But the lights went off and so I drove a few more miles.

Then they flickered again. I decided not to risk a forced stop on the highway, took the next exit and pulled into a parking lot near a bank. Something in me said to find a space with no cars nearby, just in case I needed a tow. It was a warm day, a late morning on a busy street, so I was not worried about my safety or the weather.

I have had this car for over 21 years and driven it more than 244,000 miles. Maybe it was time to accept that I would finally have to dip into savings and get a new car. But I did not want to. I check the oil, get it serviced, anything to keep it running. Even after all of those miles, I believed that there was more life in the car if I took care of it.

A quick look at the owner’s manual convinced me that it was a minor problem that could be resolved once I got to Cincinnati, now about 60 miles away. I settled back into my seat and put the key in the ignition, eager to continue on. I turned the key; nothing happened. I turned the key again—no click, no engine starting, the only response was the sound of jostling keys. My car had given out, after all I had done to keep it running.

I have had friendships like this, ones that seemed to fade away even after I tried to keep them alive. I find myself wondering whether it is worth it to keep jumpstarting them or if I should let them go. It could be age; over time I have become more thoughtful and intentional about my relationships. Some friendships are closer, because of years of shared experiences and being there for each other. A few are stronger after a temporary distance, because we came back together, talked and decided not to take the relationship for granted.

But a couple are not going as well. My interests have shifted, perhaps that is part of it. My tolerance for certain behaviors has definitely changed. Things I might have overlooked when I was younger or for which I made excuses, they now make me tired. I am figuring out how much more effort I want to put into these types of friendships. I do not bail out on people easily, but sometimes space is needed, or my acceptance that the relationship may have run its course.

Resigned to the fact that my car needed more than a jump, I called AAA to arrange for a tow to Cincinnati and a couple of hours later, I sat in the service department, handed them the keys and left my car. I was certain that this was it; I would have to buy a new car. Somehow, I could not help thinking that maybe there was something else I should have done to avoid the breakdown. But then again, I always checked the oil, used the right gas, drove safely—what more could I have done?

The next day the dealer called to tell me that car could be fixed. They had to order a part and some belts, but they would have it ready in a day or so. I was relieved. I can drive this car a few more miles, or months, maybe years. I don’t know; I will have to take it one road trip at a time.

I thought about my friendships. I could let some slip away from lack of attention. I could decide that the effort required to be in them exceeds the mutual benefit of trying to maintain them. Or I can remember the memorable trips we have taken through life, the easy, flat roads where we coasted along, the hills and valleys that were harder to navigate but still a part of our journey. I can give it another shot, trying to be more patient, less sensitive or irritated. I might accept that I have done all I can or want to do, and let that be enough.

I have spent so much time in these relationships, depended on my friends to help me make my way through life, and at other times I have been the one to lead the way, to carry them through a tough spot. Tossing aside an important friendship without trying to fix things would be foolish. I have been down this road before; I know the difference between when to let go and when to check if all that is needed is a little repair.

 

Inspiration quote for March

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Every month I like to add a new quote, from something I have read or heard, to the inspiration section at the bottom of my site. Here is the inspiration for March:

“But ever since Montaigne, lack of knowledge has often served as the starting point for personal essays.”                          – Phillip Lopate