Dearest cherubs:
Those of you who know me best, know that I am not a Wordsworth person. I don't write poems about "here we go gathering nuts in May". Nature, for the most part, bores me. It's people that interest me. Yet, when I am seeking peace, when I am seeking contentment, when I am seeking some kind of center, that's when I call my good friends who live near base of Mt. Washington and ask if I can visit.
They have a most wonderful house, but that is not why I ask to visit them. They have a wonderful social connection with the North Country, but that is not why I ask to visit them. They have a wonderful connection with a church near there, which is ecumenical and welcoming, but that is not why I ask to visit them.
I ask because I think that they know that they live in a place that radiates peace and that I need that peace.
In the morning, sometimes, I rise before my hosts and I walk on their deck, or sometimes down towards the river that flows near their property. The mountains, the river and the forest all contribute to some kind of peaceful existence which is born of acceptance of what nature exacts from those who choose to live near it.
The most fun I have there, is talking with them. But I can't deny, that my walks in their orchard, of sorts, sooths my soul in such a way that no other place can do, except Little Diamond Island in Portland, ME. Little Diamond Island is the only other place in my life that affords the same peace.
Why do I rail against Wordsworth then? Why do I reject nature? What is it that I cherish that nature seems to rebel against? I guess it is only that I value civilization. I feel that my friends have so completely embraced nature and civilization in such a way that allow both to be embraced. And I admit to complete and utter jealousy that they have done this.
To be honest, I have often wished for a helicopter. I would live in the woods, and yet, have a way to get to the city. The city to me, is a panacea for my ills. And the blessed north woods of New Hampshire, is a panacea for my ills. And how, my most dearest cherubs, shall I reconcile them?
I end with a small joke. To me camping is best when defined as a bed and breakfast with view. That is what my friend's house is, in a sense. It's a bed and breakfast with a view. Yet they endure the NH North Country winters with grace. They bring their civility to the world. And I seem to keep mine close to Boston, where perhaps I hope it will bear fruit.
Warmly and with all my love, dearest cherubs, I send my latest post.
Sunday, August 22, 2010
Saturday, August 14, 2010
An August Poem
I am looking at him with my mind's eye, Ceaser Augustus -- his breath creasing the air with its mist, its cutting edge.
I walked along the stones he walked along and I thought of him.
I do not know what to say to him. But I knew he fought a good fight. He was not a good man, in our modern sense. But he was a leader.
I walked under the arches created by his uncles and by his grandfathers.
Arches we must understand even though we do not understand them now.
Understanding is a bad word. We cannot measure it. What does "understand" mean? We cannot know.
Ceaser Augustus, I feel you close by. We live this summer month named for you. And there is life beyond this month Ceaser. There is life beyond this month.
I walked along the stones he walked along and I thought of him.
I do not know what to say to him. But I knew he fought a good fight. He was not a good man, in our modern sense. But he was a leader.
I walked under the arches created by his uncles and by his grandfathers.
Arches we must understand even though we do not understand them now.
Understanding is a bad word. We cannot measure it. What does "understand" mean? We cannot know.
Ceaser Augustus, I feel you close by. We live this summer month named for you. And there is life beyond this month Ceaser. There is life beyond this month.
Saturday, July 24, 2010
Stuff I have figured out
Hello dearest cherubs:
I have figured out that nobody cares, really. And that's ok. It's just the way it is.
I have figured out that I am a good poet. I am not sure anybody in the literary world cares. Please see statement number one.
I have figured out that although death really sucks, by the time somebody gets to the end, it's a blessing in disguise.
I have figured out that we all depend upon one another whether we like it or not. I don't like it. But nobody really cares. See statement number one.
I have figured out that there is a life after death. I assure you this has nothing to do with religion. It just has a meaning for me having experienced so much death and so much life.
I have figured out that wine is food. Nothing in the world will ever change that. Wine is food.
I have figured out that when we bring children into this world, we bring trouble. Children are worth the trouble.
I have figured out that I don't know anything, really, I don't know anything. I wish I knew more.
I have figured out that learning goes on forever. And when we stop learning, we die.
I have figured out that love takes so many forms, it is impossible to name them all and thank goodness for that.
I have figured out that when people say that youth is wasted on the young they are both right and wrong at the same time.
I have figured out that those who care for others, must be careful to care for themselves.
I have figured out that if I win the lottery, I will have to toss dice to see who's life I will save.
I have figured out that my abandonment was my ultimate release.
I have figured out that stuff that people hate, is stuff that people do to themselves.
Here is my post for your consideration, my dearest and most beloved cherubs.
I have figured out that nobody cares, really. And that's ok. It's just the way it is.
I have figured out that I am a good poet. I am not sure anybody in the literary world cares. Please see statement number one.
I have figured out that although death really sucks, by the time somebody gets to the end, it's a blessing in disguise.
I have figured out that we all depend upon one another whether we like it or not. I don't like it. But nobody really cares. See statement number one.
I have figured out that there is a life after death. I assure you this has nothing to do with religion. It just has a meaning for me having experienced so much death and so much life.
I have figured out that wine is food. Nothing in the world will ever change that. Wine is food.
I have figured out that when we bring children into this world, we bring trouble. Children are worth the trouble.
I have figured out that I don't know anything, really, I don't know anything. I wish I knew more.
I have figured out that learning goes on forever. And when we stop learning, we die.
I have figured out that love takes so many forms, it is impossible to name them all and thank goodness for that.
I have figured out that when people say that youth is wasted on the young they are both right and wrong at the same time.
I have figured out that those who care for others, must be careful to care for themselves.
I have figured out that if I win the lottery, I will have to toss dice to see who's life I will save.
I have figured out that my abandonment was my ultimate release.
I have figured out that stuff that people hate, is stuff that people do to themselves.
Here is my post for your consideration, my dearest and most beloved cherubs.
Saturday, July 17, 2010
Therefore
Therefore, there is great hope although how this is achieved is unknown and how it is perceived is unknown.
Therefore, there are realizations which are arrived at in such a way that it would be impossible for us to untangle them.
Therefore there is a terrible and unmitigated sadness, which may never again be relieved or misconstrued or be blamed for its damage.
Therefore, there is leadership and one who brings home the march which causes us to march behind, whether or not we know why.
Therefore, there is love, which will never be understood, not even in the course of a millenia.
Therefore, there is terrible suffering. I do not know why.
Therefore, I have the feeling that every so often, I have reached something that I cannot name or define or forswear or defend. Perhaps it is the truth.
Therefore, I have hope.
Therefore, there are realizations which are arrived at in such a way that it would be impossible for us to untangle them.
Therefore there is a terrible and unmitigated sadness, which may never again be relieved or misconstrued or be blamed for its damage.
Therefore, there is leadership and one who brings home the march which causes us to march behind, whether or not we know why.
Therefore, there is love, which will never be understood, not even in the course of a millenia.
Therefore, there is terrible suffering. I do not know why.
Therefore, I have the feeling that every so often, I have reached something that I cannot name or define or forswear or defend. Perhaps it is the truth.
Therefore, I have hope.
Sunday, June 20, 2010
For Noble
Dearest Cherubs:
So, my cousin is gone, a victim of pancreatic cancer. We will all miss him very much.
But dearest cherubs, I hear him in my head all the time. He laughs at me. He always did, not in an unkind way, but in a way that always reminded me of the absurdity of life. His last text to me was as follows "don't check anything". hahahha I must explain.
I wrote on my status on Facebook, that I was headed to the White Mountains for the Memorial Day weekend and that I would not have cell service (for that pretty much cuts out halfway up Rt. 16 to Jackson, NH due to the mountains) but that I would be checking Facebook and e-mail from time to time. Not long after I had posted this status -- his text came in -- "don't check anything". hahahha I heard him as best I could, although I did check. But I heeded his words which I think had to do with appreciating where I was and who I was with, at that time and place. I think he was trying to tell me to live in the moment.
Noble's thoughts were often cryptic. His opinions were often only understood by people who thought differently about life and about society. My mother adored him, my father played chess with him and often resigned as Noble's chess game was hard to beat.
My favorite story about him was when he, Allyson and I were studying at Ana Roje's studio in what was then Yugoslavia. Thank you Aunt Neta for granting me that opportunity.
I must explain to the non-dancers reading this post. When you are a young girl studying dance, you have the floor to yourself for most of your training. You struggle alone at the barre, in the centre, and nobody is in your space. Other dancers are around you, but mostly, your space is your own. But when your learn to dance with a partner, all of a sudden, your space is no longer your own. All of a sudden, a man's hands are in your space and it's quite disconcerting. Noble was my first partner. He made me laugh almost constantly as I was making this adjustment. "Damn it Margaret", he would say. "Would you just wipe that ballerina look off your face!" "Damn it for Christ's sake, just let me hold you up, I won't drop you, I won't let you fall, Jesus Christ!"
I still remember his hands on my torso turning me around and around and telling me that "he was in charge of how many times I turned and I should just get used to it damn it!"
LOL the biggest problem was not laughing in the middle of an exercise!
Even in my head now, Noble is still making me laugh.
I have the impression that he is just getting a big kick out of this death thing. Perhaps this is the way I am comforting myself in my grief, but I still hear his laughter.
I know how much he loved his wife, his daughter, his mother, his mother-in-law, his sister and all his friends. I know how much he wanted to stay. He stayed as long as could. He stayed beyond his daughter's student performance, and but not beyond his sister's birthday. He stayed with us as long as he could. I hope he will forgive me for my tears. I will miss him so very much, that it is almost impossible to say.
I remember his hands on my waist turning me around and around "Jesus Christ Margaret will you relax"! I will try to relax Noble. I will remember you always.
Thank you dear cherubs, as always, for listening.
So, my cousin is gone, a victim of pancreatic cancer. We will all miss him very much.
But dearest cherubs, I hear him in my head all the time. He laughs at me. He always did, not in an unkind way, but in a way that always reminded me of the absurdity of life. His last text to me was as follows "don't check anything". hahahha I must explain.
I wrote on my status on Facebook, that I was headed to the White Mountains for the Memorial Day weekend and that I would not have cell service (for that pretty much cuts out halfway up Rt. 16 to Jackson, NH due to the mountains) but that I would be checking Facebook and e-mail from time to time. Not long after I had posted this status -- his text came in -- "don't check anything". hahahha I heard him as best I could, although I did check. But I heeded his words which I think had to do with appreciating where I was and who I was with, at that time and place. I think he was trying to tell me to live in the moment.
Noble's thoughts were often cryptic. His opinions were often only understood by people who thought differently about life and about society. My mother adored him, my father played chess with him and often resigned as Noble's chess game was hard to beat.
My favorite story about him was when he, Allyson and I were studying at Ana Roje's studio in what was then Yugoslavia. Thank you Aunt Neta for granting me that opportunity.
I must explain to the non-dancers reading this post. When you are a young girl studying dance, you have the floor to yourself for most of your training. You struggle alone at the barre, in the centre, and nobody is in your space. Other dancers are around you, but mostly, your space is your own. But when your learn to dance with a partner, all of a sudden, your space is no longer your own. All of a sudden, a man's hands are in your space and it's quite disconcerting. Noble was my first partner. He made me laugh almost constantly as I was making this adjustment. "Damn it Margaret", he would say. "Would you just wipe that ballerina look off your face!" "Damn it for Christ's sake, just let me hold you up, I won't drop you, I won't let you fall, Jesus Christ!"
I still remember his hands on my torso turning me around and around and telling me that "he was in charge of how many times I turned and I should just get used to it damn it!"
LOL the biggest problem was not laughing in the middle of an exercise!
Even in my head now, Noble is still making me laugh.
I have the impression that he is just getting a big kick out of this death thing. Perhaps this is the way I am comforting myself in my grief, but I still hear his laughter.
I know how much he loved his wife, his daughter, his mother, his mother-in-law, his sister and all his friends. I know how much he wanted to stay. He stayed as long as could. He stayed beyond his daughter's student performance, and but not beyond his sister's birthday. He stayed with us as long as he could. I hope he will forgive me for my tears. I will miss him so very much, that it is almost impossible to say.
I remember his hands on my waist turning me around and around "Jesus Christ Margaret will you relax"! I will try to relax Noble. I will remember you always.
Thank you dear cherubs, as always, for listening.
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
If you hope
My cherubs:
What can one say? The rain it comes. The bad news, it comes. But you have to keep on with the hope thing. Well, perhaps you don't have to, but it's advisable that you do.
Personally, I'm not sure to whom I'm talking when I send my thoughts elsewhere you know what I mean?
There's a wonderful book by Michael Shertlove called "Audition" in which he states that when actors ask questions of nobody, they are speaking to "he/she who must have all the answers".
So I am speaking to he/she who must have all the answers. You cast eyes upwards and do the best you can. I'm not exactly sure why you cast your eyes upwards, but I think one must to be sincere you see. At least that's the tradition.
Mostly, I want to hold my friend's hand and try to share the pain. Mostly, I am not in a position to do this. I'm working, or mothering, or exwifing, or roommateing, or something that causes me not to be in a position to be helpful. I try to remember during these times that this is not about me. This is about my friend. But still the guilt cuts deeply.
There is a painful but deeply real poem written by Robert Frost called "Out Out--" in which the last line is "And they, since they were not the one dead, turned to their affairs".
Sometimes, you are too close to things to write. And sometimes, you are too far away. But still one must hope.
Because after the worst happens, we will turn to our affairs. Because that's all we can do. We really have no other choice. We cannot go on and on about things that cannot be changed. I reach out as best I can and then, when the shit hits the fan, you just swallow, hug, weep, write poems, write blog entrys and wonder to yourself why, oh why does this shit happen?
Ah, this we wonder. Why? I do not expect to receive an answer. But hope, hope is eternal, ubitquitous, and present in our lives to keep us from attempting to end our lives in utter despair over that which cannot be changed.
She/he who must have the answers. Speak up, speak up dammit! I'm listening!
Bless you all cherubs most dear to me. M.
What can one say? The rain it comes. The bad news, it comes. But you have to keep on with the hope thing. Well, perhaps you don't have to, but it's advisable that you do.
Personally, I'm not sure to whom I'm talking when I send my thoughts elsewhere you know what I mean?
There's a wonderful book by Michael Shertlove called "Audition" in which he states that when actors ask questions of nobody, they are speaking to "he/she who must have all the answers".
So I am speaking to he/she who must have all the answers. You cast eyes upwards and do the best you can. I'm not exactly sure why you cast your eyes upwards, but I think one must to be sincere you see. At least that's the tradition.
Mostly, I want to hold my friend's hand and try to share the pain. Mostly, I am not in a position to do this. I'm working, or mothering, or exwifing, or roommateing, or something that causes me not to be in a position to be helpful. I try to remember during these times that this is not about me. This is about my friend. But still the guilt cuts deeply.
There is a painful but deeply real poem written by Robert Frost called "Out Out--" in which the last line is "And they, since they were not the one dead, turned to their affairs".
Sometimes, you are too close to things to write. And sometimes, you are too far away. But still one must hope.
Because after the worst happens, we will turn to our affairs. Because that's all we can do. We really have no other choice. We cannot go on and on about things that cannot be changed. I reach out as best I can and then, when the shit hits the fan, you just swallow, hug, weep, write poems, write blog entrys and wonder to yourself why, oh why does this shit happen?
Ah, this we wonder. Why? I do not expect to receive an answer. But hope, hope is eternal, ubitquitous, and present in our lives to keep us from attempting to end our lives in utter despair over that which cannot be changed.
She/he who must have the answers. Speak up, speak up dammit! I'm listening!
Bless you all cherubs most dear to me. M.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Just Start
Precious cherubs:
Do you think you can't accomplish what you set out to accomplish? Do you think you feel abused, down trodden, overlooked, underappreciated, unloved, ignored, wiped out?
Just start.
Do you think you can't get the thing done? Do you think there's nobody to support you? Do you think you are being handed a recipe for failure? Do you think there's somebody out to get you?
Just start.
Do you think that government sucks? Do you think that you are entitled to what you aren't getting? Do you think that the two-party systems is dysfunctional?
Just start.
I am now just in the most negative, fearful, frightening, and overwhelming part of my life that I have ever experienced in my 54 years. But here's the problem. I haven't started. This is MY fault, this is nobody else's fault. I am completely fearful and I have been giving into my fear.
Just start everybody. Just take one step, like the one I took in the doctor's office the other day. That's when I found out that I would be able to walk again, not soon, but not so very far away either.
Just start. How bad could it be? Could it be worse than what's going on now? I repeat this to myself often. I hope soon, I can find the courage to start.
Just start.
Warmly, Margaret
Do you think you can't accomplish what you set out to accomplish? Do you think you feel abused, down trodden, overlooked, underappreciated, unloved, ignored, wiped out?
Just start.
Do you think you can't get the thing done? Do you think there's nobody to support you? Do you think you are being handed a recipe for failure? Do you think there's somebody out to get you?
Just start.
Do you think that government sucks? Do you think that you are entitled to what you aren't getting? Do you think that the two-party systems is dysfunctional?
Just start.
I am now just in the most negative, fearful, frightening, and overwhelming part of my life that I have ever experienced in my 54 years. But here's the problem. I haven't started. This is MY fault, this is nobody else's fault. I am completely fearful and I have been giving into my fear.
Just start everybody. Just take one step, like the one I took in the doctor's office the other day. That's when I found out that I would be able to walk again, not soon, but not so very far away either.
Just start. How bad could it be? Could it be worse than what's going on now? I repeat this to myself often. I hope soon, I can find the courage to start.
Just start.
Warmly, Margaret
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