Resilient (Rising Appalachia)

As discussed previously, my family is writing in, and passing around, a journal as a tangible way to capture our thoughts, dreams, and fears through essays, drawings, poems, and songs.  Here is my entry from a few days ago:

I find myself in a pendulum between "this too shall pass" and "these are the end times" but, I am the MOTHER, so it is my Job to stay strong and hold it all together when everyone around me is losing their sh*t.  That is what I do, as at various times my family has experienced stitches and broken bones... MRSA hospitalization... an emergency C-section... prostate cancer surgery.  My default mechanism is to envision myself as the voice of calm and reason, their advocate and protector, asking the right questions, buffering between them and the healthcare system, sleeping in super-uncomfortable recliners.

Once the crisis had passed and things were back to "normal", I allowed myself to freak the f*ck out, finally able to fall apart with the tragic What-Ifs swirling around in my head, all the bullets dodged, the there-but-for-the-grace-of-god flipside scenario.  Poetry is one of my many coping mechanisms (thankyoujesus for Maggie Smith:  the poet, not the actress!).  Donning my She-Ra cape, rattling my Wonder Woman bracelets, and conjuring the Shield of Invincibility to keep my loved ones, and myself, safe throughout this storm and chaos.

SONG:  Resilient by Rising Appalachia (major thanks to Fred for the heads-up on this song.  Wow!)

BOOK:  Welcoming the Unwelcome: Wholehearted Living in a Brokenhearted World by Pema Chodron

POEM:  The Mother by Maggie Smith

The mother is a weapon you load

yourself into, little bullet.

The mother is glass through which

you see, in excruciating detail, yourself.

The mother is landscape.

See how she thinks of a tree

and fills a forest with the repeated thought.

Before the invention of cursive

the mother is manuscript.

The mother is sky.

See how she wears a shawl of starlings,

how she pulls the thrumming around her shoulders.

The mother is a prism.

The mother is a gun.

See how light passes through her.

See how she fires.

QUOTE:  "I never said I wanted a 'happy' life but an interesting one. From separation and loss, I have learned a lot. I have become strong and resilient, as is the case of almost every human being exposed to life and to the world. We don't even know how strong we are until we are forced to bring that hidden strength forward." ~ Isabel Allende