Last week we ended our June series on mindfulness with the theme of ‘synthesis.’ Opening with Naomi Shihab Nye’s poem, Making a Mosaic, we moved into writing and art-making by examining how we pull together our respective parts to create a unified whole. Our whole self, if you will.
The writing that emerged took many shapes: letters to helpers on the journey; rants; love stories; wistful memories of good and bad times; reflections on the difficulties of breaking a habit. Two of these follow. Next week we’ll share some of the artwork that followed the writing.
WHAT HOLDS ME BACK
I have titled what holds me back. I have named it. I have cursed it. I have despised and hated it. It’s a thief of dreamers. A thief of hope. It does not play fair, and always kept me on my toes. ut I stook up for myself one day. I thought to myself, no guts, no glory. I went all in. I let go of what was grounding me, bridling me. Had me like a puppet on a string. And just like that, it was all in my control to let something go that had so much power like that. But I did it. The battle didn’t end there. It haunted me like a ghost. It snuck up on me when I least expected, inviting me back for one more taste. I hesitate. I start to believe the lie. Maybe it’s not so bad. Maybe it will be different. But come on, we’ve been through this before. We know how it ends. The void it leaves will never be filled. Yet the emptiness is better than having a monkey on your back. – MGa
AT THE CENTER
Some people begin at the center, examining themselves from the inside out, trying to be a peace with everything in this life, their past, their memories, who they once were and who’ve they become. They are in an endless search for inner peace. But what’s that really feel like? And does anyone ever really find it?
Some look up at the night sky. Others escape the chaos of humanity and find themselves at peace in nature with nothing but a steady stream and a towering pine. Some live out their entire lives in complete solitude, just the silent chatter of their random thoughts and the distant sound of their own heartbeat to keep them company, content to sit for hours watching the simple things of this life. Finding peace …
What a treasure it is, to be alone with ourselves and not be made crazy. At times, some catch glimpses of it; at others, it’s flowing through them like an endless river. We all find ours in different places, in different ways; but our need for it is always the same. When wondering where to begin in your journey to find yours, always start where we all need it the most. At the center. – PP