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Archive for March, 2020

 

 

 

Any light I carry

is nothing I

have manufactured.

It’s entirely unearned.

It is easiest to notice

in the dark.

It cannot be faked.

Perhaps I wished

I could control it.

Instead, I marvel,

ask it, how

can I serve?

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And because she is wise

in the ways the young are,

my daughter, frightened and weeping,

asked between sobs

for a happy story.

 

There are times when a story

is the best remedy—

not because it takes us away

from the truth but because

it leads us closer in.

 

I told her the story of her birth,

and we laughed until

it was my turn to cry as I realized

no matter how scary the world,

what a miracle, the birth of a child.

 

Then, as fear made a sneaky return,

we whispered a list of things we

were grateful for, falling asleep with these

words on our breaths: cats, books, rivers,

home, family, soft blankets, music.

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Hi Secret Agent and Potential Secret Agents,

Rosemerry and Sherry invite you to participate in an important Secret Mission as part of Operation Love! Our emergency project is called “Remedy.”

There is a lot of fear and anxiety in the world right now, Secret Agents.

We need your love and kindness more than ever.

We’ll be going live in our Secret Agents Facebook group tomorrow afternoon (Saturday, March 14th!) at 1:15pm PDT/2:15pm MT/4:15pm EDT to reveal the weekend’s mission.

Please join us LIVE if you can; we’d love to see you and feel your stealthy, loving, ninja awesome agent energy while we are on live.

All you have to do is log into your Facebook account at the designated time and pop over to our Secret Agent group.

Here’s that Secret Agent page!

Keep refreshing the page if it is 1:15pm PDT/4:15pm EDT and you don’t see us. (Sometimes that ole refresh makes everything right again. Just like in life.)

However, if you’re out running errands, napping, playing games, or out planting seeds of kindness, that’s okay. You can watch the video any time tomorrow and then set forth on your spy mission.  Just be sure to report back by the end of the day on Sunday.

You don’t wanna miss Operation Remedy because Rosemerry has a brand new beautiful poem to share with you. And we have a mission, should you choose to accept it.

Thank you for being a part of our world!

And — we thank you for being exactly who you are: phenomenal Secret Agents of Change with loving hearts.

What a difference you make.

We can be an antidote to fear. 

We’re so excited to create mission of love with you this weekend!

With big, happy hugs from your spymasters,
Rosemerry and Sherry

P.S. Don’t forget to pop over to the Secret Agent Facebook Group when Rosemerry and Sherry go live at 1:15pm PDT/4:15pm EDT.

P.P.S. If you have friends whom you think would enjoy these kinds of missions, please have them sign up here: https://simplycelebrate.net/secret-agents-of-change. The more the merrier! We will notify everyone via email when the next Operation launches! Also, make sure you send them to our Facebook group if they want to join in this weekend’s LOVE!

P.P.P.S Kindness is no small thing. Never underestimate how important your single act of love can be.


💕 Stay connected! 💕 

If you would like to know more about Sherry, her book Say It Now, and her coaching business, Simply Celebrate, please click here: https://simplycelebrate.net/

And if you would like to know more about Rosemerry, her books, her daily poems and her creative consulting practice, please click here: https://www.wordwoman.com/

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And when fear comes to the door bringing flowers

acting as if it’s a friend,

it’s okay to not want to let it in.

It’s okay to lock the door—

it’ll make you feel as if you’re doing something.

Fear will enter anyway.

At least it won’t expect a hug.

It won’t wash its hands,

not even when you ask nicely.

And it is more contagious than any virus—

spreads without sneezes or coughs.

It won’t leave when you ask, but

there are ways to make it quieter—

like inviting a few others to join you,

preferably gratitude, compassion, love,

kindness, vulnerability. These friends

always come when asked, wearing

the loveliest perfume. They change

the conversation, the way lemon

and honey change the bitter tea.

They remind you who you are,

invite you to look out the window

and see how beautiful the world

when the shadows are long.

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That was the afternoon

we watched the avalanches—

dozens and dozens of them

flowing over the cliff bands.

How beautiful they were

from a distance—

bright falls of billowing snow.

They began as dark rumble,

then burst into plume, into rush.

Unstoppable they were.

Powerful. Inevitable.

Such a gift to feel humbled,

to exult in forces

greater than our own.

 

Later that night, reading

the tumbling graphs,

the sliding accounts,

the unforgiving reports,

I began to understand

the scale of the cliff.

 

And as everything

I thought I knew

slid over the escarpments

of comprehension,

how clear it all became.

What really matters.

How we’re all in this together.

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And once again the invitation

to see beyond the self—

the way water knows itself

not only as river and lake

but also as fern, as cloud, as cat.

Forgive me for believing

I end with this skin, these ideas,

these imaginings. Sometimes

I forget to choose vastness,

forget to know the self

as cliff, as maitake, as crumb.

How is it I so often miss the invitation?

How is it I overlook that I

am lemon, asteroid, wren?

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Jane Hirshfield HD photo (c) Curt Richter

What does one of the most brilliant and compassionate minds of our time have to say about human action/inaction and climate crisis? I got to interview Jane Hirshfield about her new book Ledgera poetic and scientific account of the ecological reckoning we now face. Our conversation was published in The Open Notebook. Jane has been one of my heroes for twenty years, and now, after reading this book and getting the chance to converse, I respect her 9000 times more.

 

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My mother did not forge tech innovation,

didn’t win Olympic medals, didn’t write

a textbook on equal rights.

 

But she did run for office. And won.

She coached the soccer team so girls could play.

At church, she led the people from the pew.

 

And she started a company so my father

could leave his job. I don’t think

she thought of herself as an activist.

 

She’ll be surprised, perhaps, I see her this way—

as a leader, a role model, an example

of a gender equal world. Because of her,

 

I never felt less than. Because of her,

I could see myself as doctor, poet,

model, president. Because of her,

 

I know how to scratch my children’s heads

each night before sleep. How

to make up a song when life is too much.

 

How to cry for beauty and love.

How to notice and praise

what is right with the world.

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And what did you do with your lost hour?

            —Harry Teague

 

 

Well, I didn’t sleep, that’s for sure,

nor did I bake bread. Didn’t practice piano

or write a poem, skate ski or do sumo squats.

 

Neither did I throw javelins.

Nor fake my own death in a gruesome car accident,

nor steal modern art nor moon rocks nor whiskey.

 

I didn’t spelunk. Didn’t sink in a ship.

Didn’t crawl through the sewer.

Didn’t get a tattoo. Didn’t twerk.

 

Perhaps there was part of me

that did what I am always trying to do—

untether from time and lose all sense

 

of who I am and what I think and

what comes next and how it’s supposed to be—

yeah, I’d like to believe that for a lost hour

 

perhaps some part of me thrived and joined

with the universe so completely that it knew itself

as the dawn that comes when it comes.

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A Change in the Light

 

 

 

Now while the moon

is hiding behind the clouds

now when the rain

is falling midwinter,

and now that they’ve told us

not to hug or kiss each other

for fear of contracting

and spreading disease,

yes now is the time to find

whatever light we have

been hiding inside us—

whatever measure of brilliance

we’ve managed to conceal

from each other, from ourselves—

now is the time to bring forth

that luminescence and offer it

freely to the world, now

when light matters most.

 

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