Drew Myron's Blog, page 39

Thankful Thursday: Yes

Say yes.

Yes opens the door.

Lately, I've enjoyed a sequence of yes. Like shopping for a car, once you notice the Subura, you see Suburas everywhere (or you just live in Oregon).

My friend Vicki sends out a weekly poem (she researches and writes backstory on each poet. It's a great free service produced by a real poetry appreciator). A few months ago she asked me to serve as guest curator. I shared a few of my favorite poems, including God Says Yes to Me by Kaylin Haught, and concluded with one of my own, Turn Up the Quiet.

One of her readers noted that yes made a frequent appearance. I hadn't noticed, and thus, began a fun exchange:

In response to yes, Careful Reader sent me a no poem by Vsevolod Nekrasov:

no no
no and no

no and no and no and no
and no and no and no and no
and no
and I     no

I responded with another yes poem, an excerpt from On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous by Ocean Vuong:

Say amen. Say amend.
Say yes. Say yes
anyway.

When Careful Reader said she was having trouble finding no poems, I felt heartened. Yes had triumphed.

Still, I kept on the search, digging up more yes poems (though at this point, vindicated, I kept them to myself). I found this poem by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer:

Divining

Not just on the wall—
the writing's on the sky,
the river, the bridge, your hands.
Wouldn't you love to believe
all those blue and red lines
make a map, and if only
you could read those lines,
you might know where to go
from here? Yes, we're lost
and wrinkled and surely doomed,
but god, in this moment
between concerns, isn't it beautiful,
the place where we wander,
this hour when gold gathers
just before the plum of night?

Wanting to know more, I discovered Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer approaches writing and life with yes. I liked her style, and I reached out to learn more. Rosemerry is now featured on the blog series I host, 3 Good Books, sharing her top picks on the theme of, you guessed it, Yes.
 
Don't you love the power of poetry, how it nudges us to pause and consider, how it moves us toward yes? 

 
It's Thankful Thursday, a weekly pause to express appreciation for people, places, things, and more. What are you thankful for today?

Sunday Funny

John Atkinson, Wrong Hands

Fill me up, it said

. . . And turned, therefore,
 to the expected silence of a page,

where I might simultaneous assert
and hide, be my own disappointment,
which saved me for a while.
But soon the page whispered

I'd mistaken its vastness for a refuge
its whiteness for a hospital
for the pathetic. Fill me up, it said
give me sorrow because I must have joy,

all the travails of love because
distances are where the safe reside.
Bring to me, it said, continuous proof
you've been alive.

— from Turning to the Page
by Stephen Dunn

To view full poem, go here.

 

When we read . . .

I ask questions: What are you reading? Why? What is it about this topic that resonates with you? How does it influence your own work?

I liked the responses so much, I made a place to share those answers, influences and ideas: 3 Good Books.

Because when we read, creativity stirs. And when we create, our lives expand.

Expand yourself. Get to know great writers and artists. Now Showing at 3 Good Books: Ebony Stewart, a performance poet and sexual health instructor (that's her in the video). She's funny, tender, smart and sharp, and she's got some great book suggestions.

Thankful Thursday: Midwinter Blues

Gratitude, smatitude.

It's the bleak midwinter. Creative folks are dying left and right (see: David Bowie, C.D. Wright, Alan Rickman) and my thankfulness is a dry, dry cup. As in empty. 

The sky is grey, the days damp. My body heavy, my mind slogged. Oh goodlord, enough already. Hello Zoloft, my dear friend.

But, yes, of course, we must turn to gratitude. When we feel it the least is when we need it the most. Because attention attracts gratitude and gratitude expands joy, it's time to slice through the ugly and get to the good.

This week, what gets me through:

Parenthood
I refer, of course, to Parenthood, the television show (and not —shudder — my own children, and the fact that I don't have children, and chose not to have children, and that I had the opportunity and support to make that decision is another thing to be thankful for. But I digress). I'm late to the party on this ensemble show that is really a dressed-up, contemporary soap opera. But gosh, it's been fun. Not completely mindless, it's been the ideal binge-watch on these dark, long nights.

Kettle Corn
I'm cutting back on sweets (so goes my resolution not to resolve). I'm not cutting sugar entirely, that would be crazy (see also: impossible, wonderful) but I'm backing off. And if you don't eat the entire bag in one sitting (while watching Parenthood), it's a nice treat.

Creative Self-Help
Uggh. I have an adore-abhor relationship with self-improvement books. Like an ant to a picnic, I'm drawn in with vigor and focus. Yes, I will be a better person! Yes, I will be more creative, more happy, more efficient, more slim, more young, more old, more self-accepting . . . Well, you can see what happens. So much more is, well, less. And exhausting. (And so, we return, with gratitude and guilt, to Parenthood and kettle corn. Oh, how the hamster wheel turns).

Long-story-short, I'm reading Big Magic: Creative Living Beyond Fear by Elizabeth Gilbert (am I the only one who hasn't read Eat, Pray, Love?). It's a self-help book, which is to say it feels sort of insightful, sort of soothing, and sort of annoying. Still, there are some nuggets that speak to me, like this:

The older I get, the less impressed I become with originality. These days, I’m far more moved by authenticity. Attempts at originality can often feel forced and precious, but authenticity has quiet resonance that never fails to stir me.

Yes, that's where I am too. In mid-January, on chilly days and long nights, I'm scratching for gratitude and finding more than I imagined. My cup fills, if slowly.

And you? What are you thankful for today?

* p.s. I'm also thankful for digression, asides, parentheticals — and your patience.

 

Love that line!

For what is sorrow but the underside of beauty, the long-suffering cousin of joy?

Sonja Livingston
 Queen of the Fall

 

 

Aspiration wears me down

Blank page. Clean windows. New shoes. I like a fresh start.

But, sheesh, I can't take the pressure of a new year.

I can't see another photo of a fit woman with luminous skin and super-toned bod. No more lists advising me how to be a better boss, rising star, team player. And please, no more images of dreamy couples on dreamy beach vacations.

Aspiration wears me down.

I already know I'm not going to write every day, exercise more, or eat less. I won't give up sugar or dairy or carbs. I might drink less. I'll try to love more. But, really, I can't guarantee much.

I've read the same endless stream of self-improvement suggestions you have: Have a clear goal. Write affirmations. Positive self-talk. Visualize your ideal self. Self care.

I get it, but oh, it takes so much effort to be my "best self." While I don't want to let myself go, I'd sure like to relax.   

So, this year I turn again to Lisa Romeo's I Did It practice. Rather than look forward with resolution and proclamation, I'll quietly look back and assess what I did achieve: personally, professionally, emotionally, physically. I'll recall (to myself) the accomplishments and may even feel buoyed. And that may be just be the nudge I need to believe I'm able, willing, and often revved with possibility.

How about you? In this new year, where's your head and heart?

 

Thankful Thursday: When shared with you

It's a big Thankful Thursday — the last of the year. Thank you for spending Thankful Thursdays with me, for keeping me accountable, appreciative, and grateful for things big and small.

Attention attracts gratitude, and gratitude expands joy, and my gratitude grows when shared with you.

Thank you.

 

Bell Song of Thanks

for patience and prayers
    for holding tight
    and letting go

for mothers     
    who cry in the dark
    and pray for light

for fathers
    reticent as rocks
    solid as time
    
for brothers
    that call

for sisters
    that don’t
    
for the near miss
    the second place
    the small dent

for speaking up
    and stilling down

for lungs to run
    legs to stand
    a heart to believe

for sickness
    and balm
    fortitude and grit

for newborns
    cradled in hopeful hands

for goodbyes
    that shook
    left us sobbing and stranded

for faith
    and song
    and the reminding chime

for giving up
    and starting over

despite of,
    because of,
    almost always
    for

love.

 

- Drew Myron

On Hidden Lives

Memoir often gets a bum

           wrap as a self-involved 

           genre, but the irony is that 

           when it's done well, a memoir 

           is an exploration of one person's

           life that illuminates the lives

           of many."

             —  Sonja Livingston

Sonja Livingston is master of detail. She peers beneath the surface and extracts the emotional terrain of people and place. She is author of Ghostbread, an award-winning memoir about growing up in poverty (it's one of my favorite books), and her newest work, Ladies Night at the Dreamland, is a collection of essays.

At 3 Good Books — a blog series I host — Livingston shares her favorite books on the theme of Hidden Lives.

Join us, here.

Merry music, softly

Had enough of the jingle-jangle of Christmas?

Me too. I cozy to a quiet Christmas, with books, blankets, and calm.
For sanity and serenity, I'm listening to tranquil tunes: 

Aimee Mann: One More Drifter in the Snow
Ever since she penned and performed the soundtrack to my favorite movie, Magnolia, Aimee Mann has reigned as my very own queen of substance & cool. With this collection, she turns classic tunes into a hushed and intimate holiday with a dreamy vibe.

 

Chris Botti: December
Okay, okay, the title says seasonal, but here's my confession: I play these tunes all year through. Botti's low-key trumpet is warm and soothing, and keeps me snuggled and serene.

 

Sarah MacLachlan: Wintersong
Gauzy and ethereal, Sarah McLachlan delivers. This collection is signature Sarah: pretty, pensive and beautifully moody.

 

Tracy Chapman: O Holy Night
While she doesn't have her own collection of holiday tunes, Tracy Chapman's O Holy Night is the standout of A Very Special Christmas 3 compilation.

 

As usual at this time of year, I'm in a mix of harried, moody and melancholy, and almost any version of Silent Night leaves me in near-tears. But, really, isn't that the spirit of the season — to be touched, to be moved?

Your turn: What's playing, and are you moved? 

 

These music selections are available on iTunes and Amazon.