Limantour Beach, Canon Digital Rebel
This was once a love poem.
Before the routine set in, before the bed got too small and sweaty, before the mosquitos buzzed overhead. This was once a love poem.
Before the sadness arrived each morning, the tightness in the chest and the furrowed brow. Before the loss of hope.
Before the cheerleaders put down their pom poms for the lost cause. This was once a love poem.
…
I went to a class on Monday and our assignment for the week was to live in the perspective of, “This is it and I’m satisfied.” And if you really step into that, if you really get present to what that means, you see that this is in fact how it all turned out. Like if I ever wondered, “How will it all turn out?” well, now I know. This is it.
This is it and I’m satisfied.
I said this out loud and something about it made my shoulders drop, like maybe I don’t have to try anymore. Like if this is it, then maybe I don’t have to have a baby at all, we can stop worrying, the efforting can stop.
And for a moment this made me happy, this lack of desire, this tiny suicide, this dream dissolving like sugar in a glass. Like, if I can see that everything ?s okay now, there is room for a love poem or two.
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Is this a Landmark class? Sounded familiar so I had to ask. Hope that mindset gives you peace.
I love this post. Words escape how perfect your thoughts and words are for me today. Thank you!
(I am embarking on my big move on Monday! It is really happening! And this is it!)
wow. I can’t imagine anything else I need to hear right this very moment more than this.
I have been holding my breath for so long and just the very idea of exhaling fills me with a sense of peace that I haven’t felt in ages.
That love poem is so beautiful and so bittersweet. I printed it out and taped it in my “carry-everywhere” notebook. Andrea, you have the most beautiful mind.
This is one of my favorite posts ever, so beautifully written.
So true.
Just flawless.
And perfect.
Like you.
Like everyone.
Like everything.
Ever read, “Loving What Is” by Byron Katie?
Good stuff.
Sigh.
OK.
As is.
I’ll forget this soon, but in the remembering, I’ll be OK.
Till I forget again.
Then remember.
Yin/Yang/Black/White/Dark/Light/Cry/Laugh/God/Hell/No/No!/Yes/Yes/Yes!
Totally needed to read this today. Thanks, Andrea.
What a concept to just accept that this is it and yes, we can be satisfied. thank you for sharing…my shoulders dropped too after saying it out loud.
this idea has been on my mind so, but you have bottled it with words and put it in the ocean to set free to poetry. release!
Thank you – wherever you got the assignment from, it definitely has a profound effect on me, too.
(reminds self to check out the Superhero blog more often)
I hear you loud and clear on this one. It’s funny, I’ve been thinking about this exact issue lately…I had this same experience before I met my Husband…I was single, had previously been in a dead-end relationship, and was worried I may never get married. Then I made the conscious decision that if I never got married, that was ok. That maybe that was it and I was fine with the way things were. I met my Husband three months later. Sometimes life has a funny way of working itself out.
Wow! Andrea, read this post and started to comment how much I loved the picture…then went back and reread the post and started to comment that I was dissapointed that you (anyone) would accept the position, “this is it”…then went back and reread the post and got it…maybe. Very moving..thank you!
I’d love to know more about this class and if it’s offered on line…
Beautiful words. Since I’ve become a mother the poetry of my life is different and sometimes I see it as “not good enough” and not the “romantic” hearts and flowers poem that I originally set out to create. I’ve been trying to accept my new life (with my newly discovered anger outbursts, being totally overwhelmed, feeling completely inadequate and powerless) as a new form of love poem, as beautiful, just a little more raw, and deffinitely different than expected. There is relief in acceptance…and a lot of grief too…and that’s okay.
WOW… the love poem really hit the spot, seeing how sunday was the one year anniversary of leaving my last big relationship. I’ve moved on, but occassionally, i look over my shoulder, and think i see those cheerleaders, just waiting for a sign from me to cheer one last time. *sigh*
ain’t happening, girls. sorry.
as to debra’s question about this being a Landmark class… LOL… i totally had that same thought.
Found you thru Amandarin…. and will make note to read here more often.
miss eloquent scher, (cher…”dear”)
i have come to look forward to your daily, every other daily, and in between type posts almost as much as crawling between my sheets at night. reading what you’ve written is like taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly. always thought*full* and *provoking*…inspiring and rich.
thank you for your vulnerability…your color…your artist’s eye and soul.
may your life be truly blessed and may wherEVer you happen to be when you wake up each morning always be “enough”.
hold yourself lightly…
“And for a moment this made me happy, this lack of desire, this tiny suicide, this dream dissolving like sugar in a glass. Like, if I can see that everything ?s okay now, there is room for a love poem or two.”–absolutely beautiful. I feel as if I was in the presence of an agonizing, universally understood sigh. You know I know the concept of the “tiny suicide” of momentary acceptance. Being in the present is something easily forgotten when a goal becomes our reason for existence, when the assumption becomes the trajectory.
I had just looked up from this passage from Percy Bysshe Shelley’s “A Defense of Poetry,” to check in on your blog. I feel it has relevance to your course … “Poetry acts in another and diviner manner. It awakens and enlarges the mind itself by rendering it the receptacle of a thousand unapprehended combinations of thought.”
This is a beautiful photograph, beautiful writing, beautiful soul that is you. I am beginning to embrace the idea that being satisfied with what is can make life fuller, make room for those love poems. I wish you peace.
My therapist and I have been discussing this concept. She calls it “Surrender” but I having been calling it “Acceptance”. I must accept whatever “is” and go from there. I like your phrase even better and will talk about it next week.
Andrea, Your post tonight has got my mind spinning about, comparing – living in the moment, to the idea of accepting or surrendering to the idea of ‘this is it…’ some good stuff coming of it all! Thanks for always serving up alternate routes to life & happiness…provoking growth and happy living… Your neon sign should read, soul food served here! lol. thanks, Tracy
But surely this surrender is giving up on the hope of ever having something different. Isn’t the hoping , wishing and dreaming what keeps us all alive? Thinking that one day things will be different. What if the now is NOT okay? Should you surrender to that?
andrea, your poem is lovely. you are lovely. it breaks my heart that you spend so much time worrying about this baby. i know, in the truest way a person CAN know, that it will happen for you one day. and soon.
i too, am sadly stuck on something lately. i’ve been talking to friends a lot about it, and we all seem stuck. but the thing is, we’ve come to realize that to get to that point where you imagine sheer happiness for yourself, you already have to be happy. it’s a circle, a trick, a catch-22. it’s ugly, and it’s beautiful. you let go and realize that you’re closer than ever to where you’ve always wanted to be.
you’re right: this is it.
You have so many caring souls out there in the world, loving you, worried that you’ve given up, given in. That’s a wonderful, warm blanket to wrap yourself in.
But I don’t think it’s about giving up. I think it simply means Let It Be.
Your writing is so meaningful to me, especially today, because I am so damn caught up in pursuits, pursuit of happiness, pursuit of financial independence & freedom from debt, pursuit of regaining my health, pursuit of spending more time/more meaningful time with my kids, pursuit of a meaningful marriage, pursuit of customers for my business, pursuit of my art, pursuit, pursuit, pursuit. So many pursuits that I feel like I’m going to f**king explode! I ATTACK everything with such a godforsaken intensity, that as I’m writing this, I’ve come to realize how ridiculous it all is. I’m failing miserably at all of my pursuits, not because I’m really failing, but because the intensity factor has overshadowed the joy in any of the pursuits. I mean, what the hell is the point of the destination if the journey is so f**king miserable?!
You’ve really made me look at myself and see that maybe it’s time for me to Let It Be.
This is it and I’m satisfied. I can hardly choke those words out of my mouth. I don’t like them, and yet without them, I’m stymied.
It’s just NOT how I ever imagined it would be! It’s become so abundantly clear that I’m not in charge here. And I can APPLY myself with all of the intensity that I can muster up, and that’s far more intensity than most would like to experience, but I’m thinking that maybe if I just put down my sword…
Maybe it’s time to put down my sword & Let It Be.
Very beautiful writing. There is a lot of truth in the sadness (there is sadness, but it’s beautiful). And the relaxation into being contented. I think this is necessary wisdom for all of us (at least for me, I’m always living in the past or worrying about the future). I have often been touched by your messages but this time I was touched by your writing. The book? Do it.
Maybe it is the words we choose. “This is it and I am satisfied.” has a sense of finality to it. By human nature I think it would be easier on our souls if it read “This is it and I am thankful”. Somehow that has the ring of hope and possibility to it. Of course, that wasn’t the assignment, was it?
Thank you, you have no idea how much I needed to hear exactly that today. I am going through some similar stuff, I think.
Thank you thank you thank you. x
last night I tried brushing my teeth while holding my right elbow parallel to the floor. I couldn’t hack it, I dropped it mid side switch. your words are beautiful, and I think even love poems are ugly sometimes, they are still love poems. your chest tightens, your brow furrows, the mosquito buzzes, and when you lose hope you’re still loved, by oh so many.
You know what Andrea? “Enough” is a great word.
I hope that you can see that everything IS okay now.
(But I’m not putting my poms down.)
There is something very attractive about the ‘be satisfied with your lot’ approach to life. True, there is no possibility of tragedy without raised expectations and anticipation. But the other side of that is that there is also no real appreciation of joy without the possibility of disappointment… or even tragedy.
It may be corny and cliche, but nobody ever got hurt sitting in a roller coaster that was standing still. But then again, it can’t have been very fun just sitting there.
Beautiful writing. It really touched me. I love the way you use words.
Is THIS really it? Really how it turned out? That will really make you think, won’t it? Hm.
🙂
wow…somehow this is making me feel tear-y..a small powerful, unexpected moment…thank you
May I say something about the line “this is in fact how it all turned out”?
It isn’t, surely? It’s still turning out. You’re the inspirational voice behind that invitation a while back to write letters describing what we’d all be doing in Summer … and the Summer is still going on (although it’s raining right now in my time zone). This is in fact how it is all turning out today, but what about tomorrow?
And may I also say that the blessings of this life don’t come because you try for them, because you effort and because you worry? Sometimes, surely, they come because you’ve forgotten to do all that.
For me, this is it today and I’m satisfied.
Now here comes tomorrow.
Bless you, and I hope the future is sweet-tasting with all that sugar in the glass.
Thank you for sharing this. I cannot really say anything that others have not already put on the comments. I did want to tell you that I felt inspired to write my own love poem of sorts. Slightly different direction than yours, but similiar intention.
Oh Andrea, sending you all the love and blessings.
Magnificent. Lovely. Sad. Joyful. Hopeful. Restful. Bittersweet. Divine. Deep Breath. LIFE. Life IS.
girl, this post is like tearing up the creative blog world. i didn’t even get to make my daily andrea click when it was all over other blogs i read.
fabulous. great insight.
you can let your shoulders down. i think, like a good salon shampoo, we need to rinse and repeat.
Andrea,
Thank you for posting this and for all the comments that everyone has posted.
I have been coming back and reading and re-reading and thinking about this as I find that in my life I have done this at times – but not always. The times I have done this letting go have been beyond words – and I notice that I don’t live it in all the pockets of my life and that if I could have that kind of everyday courage … to let the world be as it is… hmmm.
many thanks for your generous sharing and for the community of friends you bring together here.
Andrea,
Thanks for being so brave and honest and raw, and so beautiful. This is some of the most breathtaking writing and imagery I’ve read in awhile. It’s… startling, arresting. I’ve been reading your blog almost since it’s inception, and this is somehow a different thing.
Thanks.
In some small sense I really know what you are saying. I think there is some joy in living in the now. But, right in this moment things are the way they are and you are satisfied, because in a sense the moment is all we have. But that does not mean that in the next now you might not have something different. Maybe that surrender is a little death.
One of my dear friends was a baby that almost did not happen. His parents tried and tried, and they finally adopted. The moment they took that stress off themselves, they conceived. Shortly after my friend was born, his adopted sister was bitten my a mosquito and got encephalitis. She lived, but is developmentally disabled. Somehow, that family was able to survive, and grew to be one of the most loving amazing families I have ever seen. I don’t know why your post reminded me of that, but it did. I suppose that’s a depressing tale to tell, but it somehow has joy, human resilience and the power of love at it’s heart.
And we are all still cheering for you. Pom’s raised!
everything IS ok, just as it is…but the dream is still alive, within you and around you…although maybe without the worry and effort, just living as is in a love poem of faith, little pieces of the dream fall into place…………
Like another comment said, this reminded me of Byron Katie’s book “Loving what is” which is all about accepting and embracing the Now. A good book.
However, how can I ever be satisfied with “this” if “this” is a terrible illness, a devastating accident, physical pain? Those are the things that I fear most because I am not sure at all that I will be able to accept them, let alone be satisfied with them.
Your beautifully written entry gives me hope and encouragement to try and not fret so much about the MAYBE of this life but to embrace the BE instead. Thank you.
Andrea, I rewrote your poem. Hope that’s okay.
Poem for Andrea
This was once a love poem.
It held newness and fresh sheets and clean air through open windows. There were birds in the high spaces and we could lie awake to hear the wind in the trees. I told you my love poem and you told me yours and each time it was new and the same.
This was once a love poem.
But one morning sadness arrived. She brought a crate full of clunking things. Routine. Tightness. That failed bed. ?Tomorrow can?t make it,? she said. Then she closed the windows. ?So I?m staying.? The trees stopped and the birds fell out of the sky.
This was once a love poem.
Sadness rocks in the old chair, dozing and familiar. The clock?s battery is running down. We are loyal to sadness. For a long time we do not hear the familiar voice, yours or mine, whispering, ?Come outside. Come and play. This is not the place.?
This was once a love poem
and now it?s a life story. There are footprints to be made in all that sand and there are distant clouds and hills and I can see sunshine behind that uneven horizon. Let?s walk there, my love, let’s fly there and find whatever?s waiting for us beyond that line of light.
this post has had me thinking for days….
when I first read this I was sad, really sad. I started thinking if this is it, then I never got to experience being a mother, I don’t really know my parents, I don’t even speak to my brother, I have a job that makes me sad to go to.
I wallowed in this for a day or so and then I think I got it, I got what you wanted us to get. I started thinking if I keep dwelling on that I’ll be stuck in yesterday or be too worried about tomorrow’s outcome that I’ll forget about right now and today. If I can keep myself in today I can take these same issues and say I’m not actually doing so bad. I do speak to my parents and it’s probably as good as it’s going to be, we do laugh and talk which for us is a lot. My job pays well and has really provided for me in recent times of need, which I am really thankful and blessed for. I may not be a mother today but I am healthier today than I’ve been in years. And Connie is well and doing better than she’s been in months. So if I let go of this what if stuff I can see my life for what it is and I feel good about it. I can see I’ve stretched myself farther than I thought I could. I can see that my family and myself are good and we aren’t doing too bad at all. Thank you Andrea for helping me get this.
i love that you exist.
this is so serene. you have an amazing eye…