Showing posts with label Prayer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Prayer. Show all posts

Friday, March 4, 2016

Happy Birthday, Mom!

Today is my mom's birthday.  A year ago we were just glad to have her still with us after a horrendous fall.  A year later mom has become a vital member of a senior community and has grown to love a life at a different kind of pace with many supports to make her safe and happy.

I have been thinking about mom and how my perspective has changed as I have been a mom, first of young children and now of young adults.  Walking through my own motherhood journey, my view of my mom's own struggles and joys has broadened and a deeper understanding of who she is as I have recognized layers of the wonderful woman I have grown to love has emerged.

Below is a poem about my first memory.  I was three and my mom was teaching me to pray.  This sweet scenario is interspersed with the closing in of her life as mirrored by my own wish to be just like her.

Blessed is the Fruit of Your Womb
                                                                   by Deborah Bussewitz

Wooden floor meets bent knees
as they offer up ritual night prayers,

traces of White Shoulders linger on her neck
delicately defying the staleness of the small space.

Repeat after me she whispers, “Hail Mary, full of grace…”
The small girl of three mimics the sing-song prayer,

a nursery rhyme tracked in memory one line at a time as
two brothers breathe slowly in sleeping cribs that crowd the room.

With the song, comes a glance between lashes--a familiar silhouette--
long fingers laced in prayer, delicate lips,  newly expanding middle.

“I want to be just like you,” the young girl muses,

and the room contracts a little tighter.

Thank you to the Two Writing Teachers community for your promotion of this March Writers' Challenge.  Thank you for giving writers and education a forum for writing and responding to other writers.

Monday, January 18, 2016

Today I Believe in the Power of Mourning



Today I believe in the power of mourning.
I believe in primal wails of a father giving a last embrace.
I believe in friends visiting in droves for a final goodbye.
Today I believe in the nurses'  tender caring for the dying
    gently combing her hair; tending to her every need.


Today I believe in the power of mourning.
I believe in the raw ache of a mother losing her daughter.
I believe in her unstoppable tears springing from a deep well of anguish.
Today I believe in a holding of the grieving, holding of sadness
     holding of a sobbing body aching for a life that will be no more.


Today I believe in the power of mourning.
I believe in the inspiration that comes from remembering.
I believe in coming together to bear memories of the one who passed.
Today I believe in the bonding of the living that allows
     the releasing of the hand of the one who is loved into the hand of God.





Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for dedicating space and time for teachers and teachers of literacy to come together to share ideas, practice and life experience.


Tuesday, June 23, 2015

Stop to Savor

Summer begins for me at the end of this week.  In New York, schools go until the end of June so when others have begun their summers these last few weeks, and summer feels like it is here, in New York we have these last few days to push through, making me anticipate the summer pace even more.

What do I like about summer most of all?  Time to savor.  This week I co-facilitated a self-care retreat and the focus was on play.  Just like summer time, play wants a savor space.  One of our activities was to take a Sense and Savor Walk.  This walk can be taken anywhere, but my suggestion is that the walk takes place outside.  A walk like this takes about ten minutes, and its purpose is to simple notice.  To notice the leaf that calls you.  To notice the color of the sky or the ladybug slowly working on a blade of grass.  To notice the intricate patterns and color of a bud and the flower next to it in full bloom.  To notice the ground underneath your feet.   During the retreat we walked in a backyard, all of in different parts of the yard, noticing the world.  In ten minutes we were more focused, more in touch with the world around us and more in touch with ourselves.  More ready for life--and for this retreat, this gave us space to be more ready for play.  I live a fast paced life and don't always notice.  This ten minute walk could be done as a part of my regular practice, not needing summer to give me time and space.

Below are a few of the pieces of nature I noticed on my Savor Walk.  Photos are not necessary to savor...what is happening on the inside as I slow down is.  Notice that on this Savor Walk I mostly viewed things close up.  Next time I think I would like to notice things as a whole, in groups and in sweeping views.






Summer is approaching.  And with it comes the space of time.  One thing I am most looking forward to this summer is time to draw in my journal.  I am not an artist.  Actually the products I produce are not great at all.  Yet drawing gives me a way to slow down and notice.  I can't draw in 10 minutes--I need a stretch of time.  Drawing allows me to really look--just like my savor walk--but only closer.  If I am drawing a flower, I look at the lines of the flower that create it's shape and try to replicate them on my paper.  This takes time and focused attention for me.  I have to really, really look and then take what I am seeing to transfer it on paper.  I try to notice and replicate texture and depth in the flower.  The flower moves in and out in its beautiful shape and in my drawing I try to make my flower look the same.  I first use pencil to get the outline and shape of the flower.  With my pencil I try to make a black and white picture of what I am seeing.  Then I also try to match the color of the flower.  This takes some experimenting.  I work with the color on a scrap paper, looking at the flower's range of hues and experimenting with colored pencils, crayons, markers and paints.  Last year I began to use water color pencils and I felt happy with using this tool.  I didn't always match the color exactly, but I liked the result and the tool helped me to really notice the color.

Below is a photograph of a drawing I did last summer.  I am looking forward to slowing down to draw again this summer.



What happens in my drawing is that I loose all sense of space and time.  It is just me and the flower and the drawing.  Somehow time stops and I am present.  I savor.   It doesn't matter how good or bad the end product of my drawing is.  What matters is the space I am in when I am drawing.  Almost like a prayer.

For those like me who are busy, where time is of the essence, and life is go, go, go...taking time to savor is not only important--it is necessary.  How can you find time to savor.  Can you stop and take a ten minute walk--it can be in your backyard so you don't have to go far, it can be at the park next to your workplace, or it can be at the beach on vacation.  The important part of savoring is noticing and slowing.   And when can you build in those bigger times to savor.  For me I do that in the summer with my drawing.

On Thursday my school year ends.  We are packing up our books and preparing to end our classrooms.  We are thinking about next year.  We are finalizing report cards and thinking about moving up ceremonies.  Life is wonderfully hectic as we prepare to close.  I wonder what I can do to savor this school year and the children in my school one time before I release this year into summer.



Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for dedicating space and time for teachers and teachers of literacy to come together to share ideas, practice and life experience.

Wednesday, April 29, 2015

I Teeter on the Edge of Longing

 In the winter of my sadness
the silence of snow and
white covered me.
Anticipation forgotten.
The long nights and
short days blended
with ice and grey
numbing desire
within to slumber.

Today, God, I teeter on the edge
of longing.
I look back on the
bleak landscape of a year gone by,
of endless days of grey and ice.
                        of death
                                                of mourning
                                                                                    of sickness and sadness—
when longing was silenced
and waiting replaced
by a deadly stillness.

Through all, You were there with me
witnessing my grief
silently comforting
waiting for me to notice
life beyond and within
the mystery of my suffering.

Today I heard a robin chirp.
A warmer breeze touched by cheeks
turning my lips upward.
A window opened
and a whisper of longing
entered in with the
warmth of the breeze
awakening my silent soul.

Oh God of endings and beginnings
You who wait for me and long for my fulfillment
Help me to yearn again.
I am awake now.
And I want to see the possibilities.
I want to dream.
                                    to know the fulfillment
                                                                        that you have known for me
                                                            all along.