'I didn’t think you — if I told you — would understand any of this'
Reading corner Magdalene — The Seven Devils
by Marie Howe
“Mary, called Magdalene, from whom seven devils had been cast out” — Luke 8:2.
The first was that I was very busy.
The second — I was different from you: whatever happened to you could
not happen to me, not like that.
The third — I worried.
The fourth — envy, disguised as compassion.
The fifth was that I refused to consider the quality of life of the aphid,
The aphid disgusted me. But I couldn’t stop thinking about it.
The mosquito too — its face. And the ant — its bifurcated body.
Ok the first was that I was so busy.
The second that I might make the wrong choice,
because I had decided to take that plane that day,
that flight, before noon, so as to arrive early
and, I shouldn’t have wanted that.
The third was that if I walked past the certain place on the street
the house would blow up.
The fourth was that I was made of guts and blood with a thin layer
of skin lightly thrown over the whole thing.
The fifth was that the dead seemed more alive to me than the living
The sixth — if I touched my right arm I had to touch my left arm, and if I
touched the left arm a little harder than I’d first touched the right then I
had
to retouch the left and then touch the right again so it would be even.
The seventh — I knew I was breathing the expelled breath of everything that
was alive and I couldn’t stand it,
I wanted a sieve, a mask, a, I hate this word — cheesecloth —
to breath through that would trap it — whatever was inside everyone else that
entered me when I breathed in
No. That was the first one.
The second was that I was so busy. I had no time. How had this happened?
How had our lives gotten like this?
The third was that I couldn’t eat food if I really saw it — distinct, separate
from me in a bowl or on a plate.
Ok. The first was that I could never get to the end of the list.
The second was that the laundry was never finally done.
The third was that no one knew me, although they thought they did.
And that if people thought of me as little as I thought of them then what was
love?
The fourth was I didn’t belong to anyone. I wouldn’t allow myself to belong
to anyone.
The fifth was that I knew none of us could ever know what we didn’t know.
The sixth was that I projected onto others what I myself was feeling.
The seventh was the way my mother looked when she was dying—her mouth wrenched into an O so as to take in as much air… The sound she made — the gurgling sound — so loud we had to speak louder to hear each other over it.
And that I couldn’t stop hearing it—years later—
grocery shopping, crossing the street —
No, not the sound — it was her body’s hunger
finally evident.
—what our mother had hidden all her life.
For months I dreamt of knucklebones and roots,
the slabs of sidewalk pushed up like crooked teeth by what grew underneath.
The underneath —that was the first devil.
It was always with me.
And that I didn’t think you — if I told you — would understand any of this —
Healing notes
I didn't really understand how important a good apology was till I heard a few terrible ones in a week. I am not saying I am the best at giving them. But I realised how important words are when you need to give them.
These apologies I did receive this past week focussed on my hurt, instead of the wrong doing. Essentially reminding me of the reason the apology had to be delivered - I was hurt/harmed. Not because the harm doer felt bad.
I didn't think it was rocket science to give apologies, but the more I thought about it, the more I realised, we are all bad at it. I am currently reading a book on Nurturance Culture, the opposite of call out culture, re-reading Mia Mingus on Apology and accountability. These two in combination have me really thinking about apologies.
I want to so ask you all a few questions and would love to hear your answers. I would of course, share these answers back anonymously here in the next newsletter - along with my thoughts, of course.
- What does a good apology look like to you?
- Do you think you know how to craft an apology?
- If you had to give an apology to someone very dear to you, what mode of communication would you use? (Text, call, face to face?)
- Have you received an apology you loved? What did it teach you about apologising?
- Are you scared of giving and receiving an apology?
I realised through this process of reading on apology that I have been waiting to give and receive a few apologies for a few years. I didn't know how I would feel when I received them. I ended up expecting more. Does the apology help the repair for you? In my case, it led to further assertion of my boundaries because of the dissatisfaction. Hence, I am curious. How do good apologies look? How do they make us feel? How would we like to do it? Share your thoughts. And meanwhile maybe I can write an apology to a few people too.
Creative experiments
I actually have never made this - jackfruit curry. But I am here to say, it is so divine tasting that it needs to be made. Cut up and shred a bit of raw jackfruit. Cook it and cook it till it softens. Add masalas of choice. Mix mix mix. Takes a while to cook.
But do look up recipes of jackfruit veggie. There are only a million and they all seem delicious. When can I buy jackfruit again?
Dear you,
This is all I have to tell myself sometimes. We are here.
We are kind. We will resist. We will survive. <3
Love, kindness and warmth,
Nidsitis
'I’ve been circling for thousands of years and I still don’t know: Am I a falcon, a storm, or a great song?' - Rainer Maria Rilke