I Love the Days

Poetry to soothe our souls

Today I was going to publish something else that was a bit more upbeat for this long weekend in May. But then the rains came and last night before bed my husband saw me working on my piece for you today and asked me how I felt about it and I told him the truth. That it didn’t feel right.

A few readers reached out grief-stricken with the loss of loved ones this week or life challenges and two even commented about how it was hard to be human. When a friend texted yesterday afternoon with the news that a friend had taken his own life I woke up this morning and knew I’d have to start again with something a bit more soothing for all of our souls.

I hope and pray that you all feel held by the simple words and poems of one of my teachers whom I adore, Steve Taylor. He’s a senior lecturer in psychology at Leeds Beckett University and the author of several best-selling books on psychology and spirituality.

For those of you celebrating your long weekend in May hope you’re able to love the day wherever you are, with others or alone, lost in your grief, or just at home washing your sheets.

THE GENTLE SWAY OF DEATH

Steve wrote this poem after his father-in-law Ian Smith died – but it describes what he said he’s always felt when people close to him have died…

The Gentle Sway of Death

How could you disappear so suddenly
slipping away in the night, without telling us your plans
leaving us here, bewildered
staring numbly at the space you filled?

How are we going to accept
that there’s no way of tracking you down
and bringing you back, to face your responsibilities?
How are we going to accept
that the sprawling mansion of your life
with all its secret passages and winding halls
its overgrown gardens and crumbling walls
and all the rooms you let us share
has vanished overnight, with no trace left
almost as if it was never there.

But underneath the sadness, there’s a strange elation,
a sympathetic joy.
I can sense a gentle sway
like the swell of water from a ship far away:
Somewhere around me, invisible,
your consciousness is dissolving
your identity slowly spreading
the single static point of you is melting
like ice into the ocean.

And I can sense your amazement
at this journey you never expected
your look of awestruck ecstasy
as you pass through
on your way to everything.

IT’S HARD TO BE A HUMAN BEING

It’s hard to be a human being
when you seem to be trapped inside yourself
with the rest of the world out there, on the other side
and you feel insignificant and fragile, like a tiny island
surrounded by a vast, roaring ocean
that’s threatening to submerge you.

It’s hard to be a human being
when you’re forced to share your inner world
with a crazy, whirling thought-machine
that never stops churning and chattering
and makes you fear things that can’t hurt you
and desire things that can’t make you happy.

It’s hard to be a human being
when there are impulses inside you that you don’t understand
and that don’t seem to have an outlet
as if they were meant for someone else, or for another world
and have attached themselves to you by mistake.

It’s hard to be a human being
when the world is so chaotic that you can’t find your right direction
can’t find a life that aligns with your inner purpose
and you feel inauthentic and unfulfilled
like an actor who hates the role he plays.

But the strangest thing is
how easy it is
to step outside this world of discord.

The strangest thing is
that this suffering that seems so dense and deep-rooted
is only superficial, and insubstantial.

The hardship of being human
is the pain of separation –
the incompleteness of a lonely, fragile fragment
who was once part of the whole
and longs for unity again.

Let go of your autonomy, and let your mind fall silent
until you feel yourself reconnecting to the whole.
And then your suffering will begin to ease
like a passing storm, that gives way to stillness.

And then you will sense
the security of belonging, the joy of participating
the lightness of life living through you
the inner strength that wholeness brings.

Then you will remember
how easy human life was meant to be.

I LOVE THE DAYS

I love the days of doing nothing in particular
when the hard black lines of schedules fade away
leaving an empty white page
and time stops hovering over us
pointing and shouting directions.

I love the days of not deciding anything in advance
or not deciding anything at all
depending on the nature
of each unknowable unfolding moment.

I love the days of not caring about being productive
which turn out to be the most productive of all.

I love the days of not needing
to be anywhere except here.

I love the empty days of doing nothing
that become gloriously full of being.

This Northern Ontario girl is loosely planning on spending the day floating on a lake, listening to country music, and fishing with her best friend but who knows maybe we’ll do nothing at all and that will be perfect.

Wherever you are and whatever you do today I hope you can let your mind fall silent until you feel yourself reconnecting to the whole.

Sending out a big warm hug to anyone that needs one today.

With love,

Nona