I want a word that means
okay and not okay,
a word that means
devastated and stunned with joy.
I want the word that says
I feel it all, all at once.
The heart is not like a songbird
singing only one note at a time,
more like a Tuvan throat singer
able to sing both a drone
and simultaneously
two or three harmonics high above it—
a sound, the Tuvans say,
that gives the impression
of wind swirling among rocks.
The heart understands the swirl,
how the churning of opposite feelings
weaves through us like an insistent breeze,
leads us wordlessly deeper into ourselves,
blesses us with paradox
so we might walk more openly
into this world so rife with devastation,
this world so ripe with joy.
by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer
It’s always a bit of a process, choosing the next poem to explore here. Not only do I have to like it, but it has to be relevant for me at that time so I have something to say about it, I want to feel some alignment with the poet and I strive for a diversity in the selection, and I try not to share too many poems by the same poet. But that last one is not always easy with a poet as prolific as Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer, who has a practice of sharing a poem a day and has done so since 2006. You can find all of her poems here, or click here to hear her read the above poem. So with the amount of Rosemerry-poems already in our list, another one wasn’t the most likely choice for today – but when I came across this one just yesterday and it named exactly how I felt, I couldn’t resist.
Being with the swirl of okay and not okay, with the heartbreak and the gladness of any given moment, is quite a thing! And it’s not easy to communicate or have space for the presence of such different ingredients in the same instant, in the same world… Yet I’m glad it’s possible, for the alternative is not very appealing: having only what’s not okay in the picture could easily lead to the heart closing into breakdown, and only letting in what’s ok might lead to a polyanna flavoured denying that also doesn’t serve us well. For the glass is not only half empty or half full, it’s both – I’m so glad to be alive and have a glass at all.
When there’s something strongly in the foreground of my experience, I often ask myself the question: “and what else is true?” Not to deny what I’m experiencing, but to open up into the fuller, wider experience of the moment, which frequently is a mixture of different ingredients. Making space for the mixture usually feels honest and true, and rich in a multidimensional kind of way – like a musical chord with a dissonant included, or a beautiful day in autumn that holds the last of the summer sunshine alongside the chill and decay of what’s to come. It may be that these are the moments I feel most alive, most real and open to the fullness of living. So here they are, all these feelings, swirling together… how precious to be living in the midst of it!
PS if you’d like to become more awake to what’s present inside, there’s a new Level 1 Mindfulness course starting soon, which helps us show up in the moment with all its different ingredients, living life fully!
Photo by charles hsiao on Unsplash