'The poets must give us imagination of peace'
Reading corner Making Peace by Denise Levertov
A voice from the dark called out,
‘The poets must give us
imagination of peace, to oust the intense, familiar
imagination of disaster. Peace, not only
the absence of war.’
But peace, like a poem,
is not there ahead of itself,
can’t be imagined before it is made,
can’t be known except
in the words of its making,
grammar of justice,
syntax of mutual aid.
A feeling towards it,
dimly sensing a rhythm, is all we have
until we begin to utter its metaphors,
learning them as we speak.
A line of peace might appear
if we restructured the sentence our lives are making,
revoked its reaffirmation of profit and power,
questioned our needs, allowed
long pauses . . .
A cadence of peace might balance its weight
on that different fulcrum; peace, a presence,
an energy field more intense than war,
might pulse then,
stanza by stanza into the world,
each act of living
one of its words, each word
a vibration of light—facets
of the forming crystal.
Healing notes
Last week, I asked you'll for your thoughts on apology. I received a beautiful response that I am quoting here in full because it resonated with me and I thought you could use this light, too.
I realize I fall into the trap of not valuing apologies because growing up, apologies were never given authentically. The "sorry" felt like an excuse to continue perpetuating the same old cycles or habits, adding more to the harm. During Eid celebrations in Malaysia, we say to each other: Maaf zahir dan batin, which loosely translates to "I apologize (or I forgive you) in body and spirit." It's beautiful, really, a ritual of forgiveness and the celebration of it in food and family - at least that's what it should be. But these words, uttered by people unwilling or unavailable to do the inner and shadow work of acknowledging their wounds and transmuting them into consciously chosen intentions, lose all power as they get repeated year after year without taking into account the heart's truths.
I found your sharing to be so timely. I've just walked through the process of writing my first genuine apology to myself. I'm comfortable apologizing as part of a forgiveness ritual with others, but I no longer apologize if it's for the sake of "keeping the peace" - those are never genuine. I've learned its unhealthy to expect others to apologize - for it to be truthful, they need to get there themselves. Boundaries drawn become a compassion (but firm) act of giving space to people for their own journeys to unfold. I think it takes practice to know how to apologize and to discern an impulse to apologize as an expression of the heart's truth or as an impulse to perform the role of a "nice" or "good" person, which ends up perpetuating our own old wounds/cycles.
The apology I wrote to myself recently, also a love letter of gratitude, was to the armors I am ready to release from my selfhood.
xx
Dhiyanah
This is something I am learning about in therapy as well. How do I release myself from armours, guards and patterns I have in place because it kept me safe at that point. Reading Dhiyanah's note made me feel gratitude for the steady vulnerability that is demanded of us in our work on self.
Apologising to myself has become a part of the healing process but I often find it very hard to do anywhere else but in writing. Saying it out loud, as I do sometimes is both a relief and heartbreaking. I do think I have come to respect the people who do the work of being accountable and vulnerable, along with apologising. I hope we can all do more of it together. <3
Creative experiments This is more of a yay let's try this rather than already done. I made the bookmark in the photo because I wanted to get better at crocheting. Then I found this link which has some amazing designs. I am going to try these this week and see which ones come out well.
This is my favourite: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AFeGCm6Yg_k
Let me know if you try!
Dear you,
This country is going through some difficult times. I wrote about what the past can
teach us through a book I recently read.
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