Friday, August 30, 2024

Poetry Friday: Ode to Aging Bodies

My intent was to find a back-to-school poem. We have three grands in school now, a little sister in pre-K and two littles eager to start preschool next week. I'm not sure how we arrived here. Times flies! Anyway, when I opened poets.org, a poem found me. And I guess it fits in the back-to-school theme. If my six grands are growing up, then I must be aging.

You can read  "Ode to Aging Bodies" here.

I enjoyed this bit of background provided by the poet, Jan Mandell:

“I drafted this poem in a writers’ workshop four years ago shortly after turning seventy. I had just lost my husband, was diagnosed with osteoporosis, had a hip replacement, and then, defiantly, I climbed down and up the Grand Canyon. This is an ode to honor aging bodies rather than to mourn them.”

Here are the final lines, a call to wake up daily, jubilant in our aging bodies:

"Calling to every aging body
to rise up
And do it all again"

 
 Join us at the poetry playground for Poetry Friday, 
hosted today by Susan at Chicken Spaghetti.

Friday, August 23, 2024

Poetry Friday: Wonders While Walking


 Wonders While Walking

 

Snakeskin abandoned

I wonder, where is the snake?

Far away, I hope.

 

I spy . . .  a houseboat?

Fellow walker corrects me

It's a party shack!

 

Morning walk's treasure

a heart leaf discovery

as love flutters down

 

- Ramona Behnke

Rose Cappelli at Imagine the Possibilities is hosting 

this week's round-up of poetic goodness.

Thursday, August 15, 2024

Poetry Friday: Another Mushroom Haiku

 surprising mushroom

interrupts my earnest steps

flower wannabe

 
the older I get
the slower I walk
the more I notice
 
 Janice Scully at Salt City Verse is hosting our Poetry Friday gathering.  
Stop by to savor more poetic goodness!


Tuesday, August 6, 2024

Friday, August 2, 2024

Spiritual Journey Thursday: Pause to Reflect


Carol Varsalona at Beyond Literacy Link, invites us to pause to reflect, to cultivate a slowdown spirit for our August Spiritual Journey posts.

Thursday night I sat down to put together a few thoughts for this post, only to discover that we had no internet. I planned to share some words from a July Reflection Questions email by Emily P. Freeman. And a day later, I still want to share them.

"Rather than rushing right into August carrying the exact same load, here is a moment at the end of the month for you and for me to look back before moving forward.
 
This takes courage, to be sure. Depending on the month you've had, looking back may feel intimidating, scary, or even a little annoying. But the skill (yes, you can learn it!) of reflection is an important one. It requires courage, compassion, and the ability to observe something without trying to judge, grade, or fix it."
 
And when I read her words, I was drawn to that last sentence about the skill of reflection.
"It requires courage, compassion, and the ability to observe something without trying to judge, grade, or fix it." And therein is the reason I often resist reflecting. You see, I have not cultivated this ability to observe without trying to judge, grade, or fix.
 
Today I had a string of unlucky/lucky events. After watching the grands this morning, I headed to the pharmacy to pick up a prescription for my husband who has Covid (unlucky). They didn't have the medicine (unlucky) and told me the closest pharmacy with the medicine was 25 minutes away (unlucky again). They also shared that this pharmacy was closing for lunch break in 30 minutes (unlucky once again). 
 
I immediately headed there and managed to snag the prescription before the lunch break with two minutes to spare (lucky). I pulled away from the drive through window and noticed that a library I had been wanting to visit was across the street (lucky). So I popped in and managed to snag Kate Bowler's latest book, Have a Beautiful, Terrible Day (lucky). I continued my lucky streak by discovering Chapter 23, a blessing for a good pause.
 
"This is the moment. I can feel it.
It is the microsecond pause . . . 
 
This is the sacred space of the nothing-yet,
a place where I can become aware
that you are pulling at me, tugging at me.
Be present with me here,
in these whirring seconds,
at the tiny crossroads that is this moment,
slowing me long enough to wonder:
Is that you tapping me on the shoulder?
 
All right. I'm listening." 
(Kate Bowler, Have a Beautiful, Terrible Day)
 
Each chapter begins with a scripture or quote, followed by a few introductory paragraphs, a poem, and a reflection prompt. 
 
May we have more microsecond pauses, that leave us wondering, "Is that you tapping me on the shoulder?" And may we be led to answer, "All right. I'm listening." 

I like to think of today's lucky moments as times of wonder. I'm grateful for the crossroads and pauses that led me to recognize goodness in a busy, harried day.