I have been reading Jack Kornfield's, A Path with Heart, and the following reminds me of what your mother may have experienced He wrote,
"I encountered a powerful image of the connection of these two teachers [Buddha and Jesus] in Vietnam, during the war years. In spite of active fighting in the area, I was drawn to visit a temple built by a famous master known as the Coconut Monk on an island in the Mekong Delta. When our boat arrived, the monks greeted us and showed us around. They explained to us their teachings of peace and nonviolence. Then they took us to one end of the island where on top of a hill was an enormous sixty-foot-tall statue of a standing Buddha. Just next to Buddha stood an equally tall statue of Jesus. They had their arms around each other’s shoulders, smiling. While helicopter gunships flew by and war raged around them, Buddha and Jesus stood there like brothers expressing compassion and healing..."
Kornfield, Jack. A Path with Heart (pp. 40-41). Random House Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.
I think that art, both the experiencing of it and the act of creating, can be a way of empathizing with what we see and experience enough to try to bring it to life and share that feeling/experience with others.
It is my birthday today, and to start the day immersed in a beautiful poem that touched my heart was magical. So many images and phrases I connected with. I read it out loud several times, and I copied Nye’s poem into my journal and it is one I will return to. I shared it with my children too - felt like a gift for the new year to share it with them. Very happy to be here.
I keep coming back to read this, and to soak it all in. There’s so much writing waiting to be done after making my way through this week’s precious prompt. Thank you for all that went into pulling it together 💕
What a spectacular hour on Sunday. I'm not sure if this is the place to post, but I'm sharing the full text of my letters to all versions of myself (they were too long for the chat). What a journey...thank-you!
Letter to my younger self
As I sit with pen poised, I wonder why I feel a sense of dread. Clearly, I need to be kinder with my younger self.
Teenage me suffered under the weight of an alcoholic father, that led to my own heavy drinking and humiliation that I have carried for way too long.
I would like to pick that younger self up off the ground, brush all of that away and remind her instead of what a gift she was taking care of her mother, bringing light through the darkness. It was more than she should have had to carry.
I would also tell her how proud I am that she loved her father unconditionally even when he broke her heart.
I would hold her very close, close enough so could hear as I whisper into her ear, “It’s going to be all right. You’re going to do some great things.”
I would dance with her, gently steering her into the arms of a great partner who she would rediscover love with over and over…and a bright future that was about to unfold because she believed in happily ever after. It won’t always be perfect, but it would be hers and the strength that got her through the tough times would transcend into a kindness and compassion that would bring many great people into her fold.
I would tap dance with her over the fears she’d adopted when she was always waiting for the other shoe to drop.
As I watch her go into her future, I would again draw her to me and tell her how proud I am of her kindness, her empathy. She has no idea yet, but she is going to do things she never imagined she would have the courage to face.
Letter to my older self
I am truly falling in love with this older version of me, but I credit my younger self for the sometimes-arduous journey of getting me here. I thank her for bringing me to a spiritual practice where I could pray and find forgiveness and unconditional love for my father as he recovered from his alcoholism. It is her bravery and kindness that brought me here, where every day I am aware of who I am and how I can help others; where I have turned my privilege as well as the love and forgiveness I have found toward others who experience mental health, addiction, poverty and homelessness and just need someone who cares. I am nudging this version of me into the future, with self-love and pride, with purpose and hope. This is a more centred version of me who can move forward more clearly, more peacefully, more purposefully because of all the hard work all the other versions of me have done. I am grateful to look in the mirror at that face that may show the passage of time, but is more beautiful because of that work (and I don’t mean cosmetic!) … It is this version of me, my children call their hero. It is she I will take along into the future with openness, courage, hope and gratitude.
TIJ Day 5 New Year Prompt- Sending Planets Spinning
My first line is from “The Hotel Nantucket” by Elin Hildebrand. When ever I read one of her books I yearn to visit Nantucket to visit the “cobblestone streets…red brick sidewalks, cedar shingled cottages and rose-covered arches, long stretches of golden beach and refreshing Atlantic breezes…”. I want to sit on a blue and white striped canvas beach chair and lean into the delicious tales she weaves about the people sitting next to me on the beach, in the cottage next to mine or beside me at cocktail bar where the drinks mimic the rainbow personalities of the guests dancing barefoot in the sand. Just the idea sends my “planets spinning”.
Thank you for this.
I have been reading Jack Kornfield's, A Path with Heart, and the following reminds me of what your mother may have experienced He wrote,
"I encountered a powerful image of the connection of these two teachers [Buddha and Jesus] in Vietnam, during the war years. In spite of active fighting in the area, I was drawn to visit a temple built by a famous master known as the Coconut Monk on an island in the Mekong Delta. When our boat arrived, the monks greeted us and showed us around. They explained to us their teachings of peace and nonviolence. Then they took us to one end of the island where on top of a hill was an enormous sixty-foot-tall statue of a standing Buddha. Just next to Buddha stood an equally tall statue of Jesus. They had their arms around each other’s shoulders, smiling. While helicopter gunships flew by and war raged around them, Buddha and Jesus stood there like brothers expressing compassion and healing..."
Kornfield, Jack. A Path with Heart (pp. 40-41). Random House Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.
I think that art, both the experiencing of it and the act of creating, can be a way of empathizing with what we see and experience enough to try to bring it to life and share that feeling/experience with others.
To a new year of connecting...
It is my birthday today, and to start the day immersed in a beautiful poem that touched my heart was magical. So many images and phrases I connected with. I read it out loud several times, and I copied Nye’s poem into my journal and it is one I will return to. I shared it with my children too - felt like a gift for the new year to share it with them. Very happy to be here.
Happy Birthday! May you steep in beauty today.
So grateful for this invitation.
For some reason I was thinking the journaling challenge was for the whole month... was it just one week? Thanks!
I keep coming back to read this, and to soak it all in. There’s so much writing waiting to be done after making my way through this week’s precious prompt. Thank you for all that went into pulling it together 💕
What a spectacular hour on Sunday. I'm not sure if this is the place to post, but I'm sharing the full text of my letters to all versions of myself (they were too long for the chat). What a journey...thank-you!
Letter to my younger self
As I sit with pen poised, I wonder why I feel a sense of dread. Clearly, I need to be kinder with my younger self.
Teenage me suffered under the weight of an alcoholic father, that led to my own heavy drinking and humiliation that I have carried for way too long.
I would like to pick that younger self up off the ground, brush all of that away and remind her instead of what a gift she was taking care of her mother, bringing light through the darkness. It was more than she should have had to carry.
I would also tell her how proud I am that she loved her father unconditionally even when he broke her heart.
I would hold her very close, close enough so could hear as I whisper into her ear, “It’s going to be all right. You’re going to do some great things.”
I would dance with her, gently steering her into the arms of a great partner who she would rediscover love with over and over…and a bright future that was about to unfold because she believed in happily ever after. It won’t always be perfect, but it would be hers and the strength that got her through the tough times would transcend into a kindness and compassion that would bring many great people into her fold.
I would tap dance with her over the fears she’d adopted when she was always waiting for the other shoe to drop.
As I watch her go into her future, I would again draw her to me and tell her how proud I am of her kindness, her empathy. She has no idea yet, but she is going to do things she never imagined she would have the courage to face.
Letter to my older self
I am truly falling in love with this older version of me, but I credit my younger self for the sometimes-arduous journey of getting me here. I thank her for bringing me to a spiritual practice where I could pray and find forgiveness and unconditional love for my father as he recovered from his alcoholism. It is her bravery and kindness that brought me here, where every day I am aware of who I am and how I can help others; where I have turned my privilege as well as the love and forgiveness I have found toward others who experience mental health, addiction, poverty and homelessness and just need someone who cares. I am nudging this version of me into the future, with self-love and pride, with purpose and hope. This is a more centred version of me who can move forward more clearly, more peacefully, more purposefully because of all the hard work all the other versions of me have done. I am grateful to look in the mirror at that face that may show the passage of time, but is more beautiful because of that work (and I don’t mean cosmetic!) … It is this version of me, my children call their hero. It is she I will take along into the future with openness, courage, hope and gratitude.
Thank you
TIJ Day 5 New Year Prompt- Sending Planets Spinning
My first line is from “The Hotel Nantucket” by Elin Hildebrand. When ever I read one of her books I yearn to visit Nantucket to visit the “cobblestone streets…red brick sidewalks, cedar shingled cottages and rose-covered arches, long stretches of golden beach and refreshing Atlantic breezes…”. I want to sit on a blue and white striped canvas beach chair and lean into the delicious tales she weaves about the people sitting next to me on the beach, in the cottage next to mine or beside me at cocktail bar where the drinks mimic the rainbow personalities of the guests dancing barefoot in the sand. Just the idea sends my “planets spinning”.