#286: Own your chaos

“The path of tenderness is endless.” —Rainer Maria Rilke

Hello stranger,

Therapy is a purge, and I urge everyone to find someone to process their mess with. My big takeaway from my recent session, and the theme for today’s newsletter, is to own your chaos.

Give yourself second, third, hundred chances to improve and learn. Accept that life isn’t smooth sailing at all, so put on your seat belt and prepare for the ride. Take the challenges in your stride, no matter how big or small, because getting up after each hit makes it an even sweeter win.

In a Strange Land, 1919 by Dod Procter

And on that note, some poems to get up, brush off the dust and fight, every friggin’ time:

1. Think Like A Tree by Karen I. Shragg

Soak up the sun
Affirm life’s magic
Be graceful in the wind
Stand tall after a storm
Feel refreshed after it rains
Grow strong without notice
Be prepared for each season
Provide shelter to strangers
Hang tough through a cold spell
Emerge renewed at the first signs of spring
Stay deeply rooted while reaching for the sky
Be still long enough to
hear your own leaves rustling.

2. Stability Is a Feeling by Nazifa Islam
A found poem: The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

I am doing nothing with my exile
of a life.

I go to the supermarket Saturday
on walks in the wilderness
of America on Sunday. I get thin.

I encourage the man I married
to work hard
at a career I don’t admire.

He is not sweet or funny.
He is as steady and strong as death.

I find myself horrified
of the future; the woman I want to be

is implausible. Voicing
my tender ideas is not possible.

The book of poems inside me
is desperate for morning.

3. And Be by Olga Bloemen

just to fall back on the grass
and be
just to fall down on my bed
and stay

to be just a being on this earth

my head objects:
there’s a life to be lived
a path to be followed
a skill to be learned
a friend to be seen
a change to be made
a corner to be cleaned
a standard to be reached

to see everything I could pursue
in this world
and to stay sane

to know all that could be done
in this world
and to choose not to

sometimes

just to fall back on the grass
and be

4. What I Like About The Trees...by Tony Hoagland

What I like about the trees is how
They do not talk about the failure of their parents
And what I like about the grasses is that
They are not grasses in recovery
And what I like about the flowers is
That they are not flowers in need of empowerment or validation. They sway
Upon their thorny stems
As if whatever was about to happen next tonight
was sure to be completely interesting.

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Links to keep you warm

1. Gangstagrass (heh)

2. Inside the Kew Gardens Herbarium

3. The Art Room Plan

4. Forest Crayons!

5. The Grocery List Collection (In love!)

6. Square watermelons grown in Japan

7. Yuki’s Sun, the first animation directed by Hayao Miyazaki

8. A Poetic Almanac of Birds by Maria Popova

9. Zines created by children during my workshop at Mysticeti’s Centre for Art & Storytelling, Varanasi

10. Abandoned Films

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My Neighbor Totoro

“The silence of landscape conceals vast presence. Place is not simply location. A place is a profound individuality. Its surface texture of grass and stone is blessed by rain, wind, and light. With complete attention, landscape celebrates the liturgy of the seasons, giving itself unreservedly to the passion of the goddess. The shape of a landscape is an ancient and silent form of consciousness. Mountains are huge contemplatives. Rivers and streams offer voice; they are the tears of the earth’s joy and despair. The earth is full of soul.”
— John O’Donohue

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I know I’ve been a bit sporadic with this newsletter, and it’s not as much of a weekly email for the past few months. I’m going to follow my intuition and show up here whenever the feelings flow. Thank you for being patient, and being here.

Wishing you jasmine-scented dreams,
Rohini