#156: Finding the missing pieces of the self
Dearest reader,
Last week, I escaped Bangalore for a few days to go camping and embrace the wilderness. It felt like in the past 15 months, I've been playing a game of 'Where did Ro go?' in my life, trying to reconnect with the best parts of my former pre-pandemic self but failing. Sitting in the lake, watching the clouds pass by and the gentle water healing me, I started to find those missing pieces of myself.
I drank copious amounts of tea, wrote and read and wrote some more, and drew myself a map of my life, inspired by Alice Walker's quote: "Look closely at the present you are constructing. It should look like the future you are dreaming".
In the spirit of embracing the parts of the puzzle I had let disappear under the carpet and out of sight and mind, I share these handpicked poems with you, in the hope that they may act as mirrors on your own journey:
Instructions for the Journey by Pat Schneider
The self you leave behind
is only a skin you have outgrown.
Don't grieve for it.
Look to the wet, raw, unfinished
self, the one you are becoming.
The world, too, sheds its skin:
politicians, cataclysms, ordinary days.
It's easy to lose this tenderly
unfolding moment. Look for it
as if it were the first green blade
after a long winter. Listen for it
as if it were the first clear tone
in a place where dawn is heralded by bells.
And if all that fails,
wash your own dishes.
Rinse them.
Stand in your kitchen at your sink.
Let cold water run between your fingers.
Feel it.pleasure by maribeth helen
the seeds
of this feeling,
sun setting over
the mountains that
contain us — a
season of retreat into
the cells that hold
us close to earth
this mother
cyclical
spiraling
whispering codes only
my heart can decipher.
when the seasons shift
where will you take us?
into the soil of my
pleasure, your seed
there waits, the
mystery contained.
i listen.Feeling the way by Julia Hartwig
The most beautiful is what is still unfinished
a sky filled with stars uncharted by astronomers
a sketch by Leonardo a song broken off from emotion
A pencil a brush suspended in the airAny Morning by William Stafford
Just lying on the couch and being happy.
Only humming a little, the quiet sound in the head.
Trouble is busy elsewhere at the moment, it has
so much to do in the world.
People who might judge are mostly asleep; they can't
monitor you all the time, and sometimes they forget.
When dawn flows over the hedge you can
get up and act busy.
Little corners like this, pieces of Heaven
left lying around, can be picked up and saved.
People won't even see that you have them,
they are so light and easy to hide.
Later in the day you can act like the others.
You can shake your head. You can frown.spring rain by Fukuda Chiyo-ni
Translated from Japanese by Patricia Donegan and Yoshie Ishibashi
spring rain--
all things on earth
become beautiful
Recommended Listening:
-Return to Sea | Six Flying Whales (my dear friend Mayur has finally put out his wonderful, dreamy new album with the most delicious artwork ^. Happy transporting!)
-Sunday Morning Idea - Salami Rose Joe Louis
-Again (1949) - Doris Day and The Mellomen
-Brandee Younger: NPR Music Field Recordings
Links of the Week:
-In love with Jean Jullien's playful characters in Jardin des Plantes, Nantes
-'I shoot for the common man': Danish Siddiqui's finest work (Rest in peace, Danish)
-I'm giving Tiny Habits' 5-day programme a shot.
-Art x Science: What COVID-19 looks like as a stunning work of art
-The 1820s Color-Coded System for Memorizing Historical Events, Which Resembled Modern Art (1820)
-Grant Snider’s 12 Rules for Creativity
-The past is a foreign country
-Miniature Landscapes 1: the beginning (A nature film, except it’s entirely hand-crafted in miniature by Clemens Wirth)
Museum of Art and Photography, Bangalore x The Alipore Post
We're thrilled to announce our Hungry for Poetry? collaboration with Museum of Art & Photography, Bangalore (MAP) to indulge in some food poetry for the soul.
MAP recently launched its latest online exhibition titled Stories on a Banana Leaf, which explores the intersection of art and food. This unique online exhibition combines sculptures, paintings, prints, textiles and photographs from MAP’s collection together with recipes from their team members for people to cook at home. Each artwork and recipe tells a story of laughter, melancholy, sarcasm, seriousness and sustainability.
We invite you to write a food poem in 10 lines or less, and share it with us at thealiporepost@gmail.com with the Subject line ‘Poetry on a Banana Leaf'.
Deadline: 24th July, 11.59pm IST.
This is my newsletter: Rochi Zalani
Rochi zalani took over This is my newsletter last Sunday, and shared some of her favorite poems, books, comics, video and series that saved her during the pandemic. She talked about graduating in the midst of a global pandemic, opting out of a remote Master's in psychology, quitting her first job and starting her own newsletter.
Read the full newsletter here.
Ending this newsletter with one of my own recent cloud doodles and these perfectly true words by Alan Watts:
“Regard yourself as a cloud, in the flesh, because you see, clouds never make mistakes. Did you ever see a cloud that was misshapen? Did you ever see a badly designed wave? No, they always do the right thing. But if you will treat yourself for a while as a cloud or a wave, and realize that you can’t make a mistake whatever you do. Because even if you do something that appears totally disastrous, it will all come out in the wash somehow or another. Then through this capacity you will develop a kind of confidence. And through confidence you will be able to trust your own intuition.”
Here’s to daydreams and building our own future,
Rohini