Category Archives: gratitude

Good Grieving

Peony, June (C) 2008 Margaret Dubay Mikus

There are many things I am grateful for in all this and I try to remember the love that surrounds me. I have a lot of support and many healing skills, but I am just barely coping. Each day I try to sleep and eat and take care of myself, but I feel like a huge weight has crushed me flat, like one of those old cartoon characters that is steamrollered into a paper-thin version of himself. I know from experience that this is part of the grieving process and it will get better over time. Every day I keep on.

As I was slowly trudging to an appointment with my holistic doc earlier this week, some words came into my head: “I feel I weigh six hundred pounds, with shoulders bowed and feet of lead….and walk through mud.” And I thought: that is exactly how I feel. Oh wait, I wrote that…years ago. It is one of two poems in my book, As Easy as Breathing, that I think of as “the good grieving poems.” I wrote these at another time when life knocked me flat. And writing saved and healed me.

First I want to share a short recent poem. For the last month, as she declined, Mom and I could no longer have our weekly phone conversations. I felt her presence nevertheless. These insistent lines came out of that space between dream and waking My Mother’s Daughter) that I complied for Mom’s wake, to share with family and friends as my contribution in celebration of her life and our connection.
7/13/12AM

She is quiet
she is still
she is peaceful

she is getting ready
to walk the long tunnel
ever grace-filled.

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 2012

Below are the two “good grieving poems” from my book, As Easy as Breathing: Reclaiming Power for Healing and Transformation—Poems, Letters, and Inner Listening

Back to the Living

I feel a dreadful sadness
of losses overwhelming,
one on top of the other,
no chance for breathing
in between. No re-balancing

as waves hit from the blue,
knocking the breath out
and feet out from under.
For a time water comes into
lungs…and there is a peace in this,

but no life. For a time
floating numb. Then salt
mixes with salt and body
begins to right and cough
and sputter back to the living.

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 1996

Who Can Shine Such Light

I feel I weigh six hundred
pounds, with shoulders bowed
and feet of lead.

I see through salt water
and walk through mud.

The mud that clings I fear
will never wash away
by no matter how many tears.

Even so…there is a wisp of smoke
that may vanish, whispering, “feel this
too…fully…and then see

the other side.
Release what must be
to heal from wounds old and new.
The lightness that will come

from this unloading
will be miraculous.
People will be drawn to this one
who can shine such light on darkness.”

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 1996

More Poems Inspired by Virtual Choir 3 “Water Night”

The Rest of the Story:
My January post was about trying to get over laryngitis in time to sing in Virtual Choir 3. Inspired by the process and Eric Whitacre’s glorious music I wrote the poem, Creation of Water Night. It turned out that this was just the first poem that would insist on being written. All part of what became my VC3 almost-compulsion, culminating in three videos submissions. The first two recordings were seriously flawed (and ultimately deleted). I kept working and hoped I would have enough voice to record a video I felt good about. As days went on, I conserved my voice, speaking little and singing only to get warmed up. Every day I listened to the Alto 4 practice part, worked on the words, read the VC 3 Facebook page, and made sure the tech side was OK at my end.

On Monday before the deadline I was able to take a voice lesson with my teacher, Kip Snyder, which firmed up where to take my breaths. That night I got all ready, makeup on, black top, new blue yeti microphone and computer set up. And then…no voice. Disappointment. One day left. Not procrastination, but close to desperation. I wanted to be OK no matter whether I recorded a video or not, but I really, really wanted this!

And on the last day, Tuesday, in the afternoon, just before the site shut down from the deluge of new entries, I slipped in and recorded. I watched the playback and felt good about it. Not my best sound ever, but no big mistakes, good energy and warm, full heart.

Thank you Eric Whitacre and all the VC 3 people for incredible inspiration. Thank you! I read the VC Facebook page every day, soaking up all the unfailing encouragement and tech help given to others. Thank you! I was amazed and moved by the variety and poignancy of all the stories. Thank you for sharing! I felt (and feel) powerfully connected to this group (In this composite photo I am the third one down and fourth one over from the top left side.)  Had a hard time coming down to earth for days after. Here are the poems that tell the story. (With yesterday, In the Dream, the sixth and likely last poem in the series.)

1/27/12

Becoming Virtual Choir 3

Drawn to the music
uncontrollable pull
notes aligned as iron filings
to a magnetic pole

a force of nature
to be reckoned with.
Why these notes at this time
calling to singers of the earth-based web

to unite in dissonant harmony
to sweep and swoop and soar on expelled breath
to help and heal and mold and meld
disparate stories and trials and successes

into one? Why not?
The woman who had heart surgery
the day after singing her submission,
a short reprieve, music replacing fear for her.

The young man from the Philippines
joining for the first time, struggling with technology.
Those with colds and tests and life ongoing,
husbands and kids and dogs supporting.

The woman who gave birth
soon after singing her part.
Those confident few doing what they do
and the rest of us in need of nurturing confidence.

The encouragers and tech fixers: David and Jack,
Sarah and Tony, with unfailing encouragement
and good advice, someone ever-present, determination
and persistence in support of whoever steps up to the plate.

And when the designated time is over,
to be a part of something larger,
if that is not spiritual,
what is?

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 2012

1/28/12

The Signature

To EW with gratitude

The beauty of dissonance,
in itself…and resolving,
the strength of moving to
and off of and onward,

continuing the run, each note
clear and strong, not shy away from
close connection,
let all notes be possible together

in the greater scheme of things.
Regardless of what was taught
about what was right or right rules once
in the world as it existed then.

To let become and bloom
from sheer joy of breath and sound
as if the world is being
created all over again…

as indeed it is…
from pure vibration.

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 2012

By this point I was getting desperate and that tightened my throat which did not help my voice to loft and soar.  I remembered why I sing: to be filled with joy. And my husband, Stephen, came to the rescue giving me this image from when he had coached young kids in softball. When a kid tried too hard to hit the ball and kept missing, Stephen made it easy saying, “See the ball, hit the ball,” taking the overactive brain out of the equation. As funny as it might seem, this was the perfect antidote to nerves as I made my last attempt at recording. And it worked!

1/31/12

See the Ball, Hit the Ball

(Remembering Singing is Joyful)

Weight of expectation
and longing full on desire
too much for fragile voice,
neck and shoulders to bear.

To be soft and lyrical
superhuman arc of breath,
to sing with a smile inside,
sound blooming in its time.

What could be ideally,
illusive now but possible
maybe just once, not perfect
but joyful… and that is enough

for temporary euphoria, transient bliss,
deep satisfaction of success.

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 2012

2/3/12

Muriel Rukeyser

Translated Octavio Paz

The translator almost
unnoticed,
byline at the bottom,
who opened a door
between one language and another,
facilitated what would come after:
the music, the singing, the connection,
dissonance melting into unity or harmony,
the web-strands covering the map,
the euphoria, the sweat, the effort,
the heart moving to tears
of joy it is said,
maybe also loss and pain.
So many choosing to join
something greater than any one.
Begun with a choice of one woman,
or begun with the poet calling and then her choice
who brought to the task
all she had been and been longing,
who took a certain risk
for reasons unknown.
How the chance was offered
with unknown compensation,
no separation between survival and poetry.
And though she is dead,
words are not and the circle
led me back to them.
When she was old did she
remember what she had done,
aware in the waning hours then
what would come?

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 2012

Watch for the April 2 launch of Virtual Choir 3 in Water Night!

A Dream About Eric Whitacre

Fall at Chicago Botanic Garden Copyright MDMikus 2007

Context:

In a previous post I wrote about wanting to be in Virtual Choir 3, singing an alto part in “Water Night, a gorgeous and moving piece written and conducted (online) by Eric Whitacre. I did make it to submit a video with just enough voice to feel good about it (more later). Last Saturday, the “group photo” was posted of the 2945 people from 73 countries who submitted videos. After looking through all of the thumbnail photos and not finding mine, I remained calm. It was late (2AM), but I went back to the beginning, promising myself I would look again on Sunday. And there I was! third one down, fourth one over  from the top left corner. I felt absurdly pleased and light-hearted. The launch of Virtual Choir 3 is April 2. I can’t wait!

Today though, I’d like to tell you about a dream that happened two months later. And the follow through…

Yes, composer Eric Whitacre, is a dreamy character (who gets a lot of comments about his perfect hair), but it was not that kind of dream. This was more to do with creative encouragement and wanting to express something deeply heartfelt and essential. To be bold. A challenge to be fully myself.  Well, you’ll see…

3/3/12

In the Dream

which seemed real
I met Eric Whitacre
and I was not red-faced
and tongue-tied.

I handed him a paper
and said “I have written a poem”
and “Here, I have written some music.”
And he responded upon glancing

“This is a song” and
sang the music
which fit the poem perfectly
liking it enough on the spot

he decided to use it
for his next performance.
I was at that concert in rich detail
an informal setting

full complement of musicians
and singers and Eric
conducting the first half.
I awoke after the break

before they played one
note of mine.
And out of that dream
in that state neither dream nor waking

came the conviction
to give him
the perfect song, with my lines:
“I know that/ I am not my hair…”

and deeper
and more.

The shy voice says
step back while
the brave voice says
step forward

and be seen.

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 2012

So here is the song for you Eric Whitacre, in the spirit of the poem. I wrote it in 1996 when facing chemotherapy for breast cancer and loss of my own blonde hair (and also a loss of identity). I adapted the poem “I Know That” (which is now in my book, As Easy as Breathing).

I Know That:

I am not my hair,
I am not my eyebrows,
I am not my hunger,
I am not my tears.

I know that:

I am not my anger,
I am not my hopes,
I am not my scars,
I am not my fears.

I am not my mother,
or my mother’s mother,
I am not my aunt. I am not my sister
or my children or my husband.

I  am  not  my  past;

I am not my body;

I am the one inside,
along for the ride,
to get what there is
to get and to give
what I have to give.

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 1996

Recorded the song on my CD, Full Blooming. (Track 19 on iTunes).

Healing Offering: Part Two

Updated on July 18, 2018:

What specifically could we do for healing relationships (including with ourselves), radiating this healing out into the world. In my experience this practice can dispel disharmony between people (feels like kind of an untangling):

Tonglen Meditation (I originally learned about this in a workshop with Joan Borysenko, Ph.D. in Chicago in 1995.)

Tonglen is from Tibetan, meaning giving and taking (or sending and receiving). It can be a powerful tool to transform negative into positive, what is tangled into smooth. There are many forms of tonglen (see Google). This is my own version, which I taught, re-shaped a bit over the years with my practice, understanding, guidance, and study of healing. There is no one right way to do this. No particular belief is required, just entertain the possibility that this might be helpful and see what happens. Much is accomplished by the power of intention. The basics are: Breathe in, pause (transform), breathe out. Here are the long and short versions.

Long version:
–To get ready: Find a quiet place and get into a comfortable and supported position. Uncross legs or ankles. If you are sitting, feel your feet fully on the floor if you can. Take three deep letting-go breaths (if possible, fill the belly with air and let out noisily). Close your eyes.

–Then envision a gold luminous light above and slightly in front of you, washing over your body, cleansing all the dark grime from every cell in your body and washing it out through the feet. You may feel lighter.

–Next focus on your heart, perhaps placing your hand on your chest, becoming aware of the warmth, energy, and power of the loving furnace of your beating heart.

–Picture yourself in your mind. Breathe in any dark grime that may be covering your own heart-light. Pause briefly as the darkness transforms into love by the power of your heart-furnace. Breathe that love back out to yourself. Repeat for perhaps a minute or two or until it feels done to you.

–Next envision someone close to you. Breathe in any darkness that may be covering their heart-light. Pause briefly as the darkness transforms into love by the power of your heart-furnace. Breathe that love back out to them. Repeat until it feels finished, maybe a minute or two, whatever seems right to you.

–Now envision someone you are at odds with. Breathe in any dark grime that may be covering their heart-light. Pause briefly as the darkness transforms into love by the power of your heart-furnace. Breathe that love back out to them. Repeat until it feels done, maybe a few minutes or whatever seems right to you.

–If someone else now comes to mind, continue this process. You might also envision an organization or troubled region, specific people or whatever seems appropriate to you. A group can also do this together (perhaps in the same place or just at the same time).

–And finally, very important to finish up with gratitude, perhaps thanking any guides you may work with (or none). Breathe normally for a bit, just feeling grateful.

Short version:
You can use this whenever someone throws you off. Say you are shopping or driving or at work and something happens with someone that feels yucky. You notice, stop a minute, breathe deeply, focus on your heart energy, and right then breathe in the dark clouds covering the heart-light of that person, transform the darkness in your heart, and breathe it back out as love, for whatever amount of time feels right. (You do not absorb any negative energy.) End by feeling grateful and breathing normally. And continue on with your day.

Note:
There is no one right way to do this. No particular belief is required, just entertain the possibility that this might be helpful and see what happens. Much can be accomplished by the power of intention.

I have also done tonglen to support healing relationships (which I see as gold cords of light between people). I believe it works for any living thing, including organizations and countries. It feels good to do, calming, empowering, and harmonizing. Practical. Please remember you do not control the outcome. No one can say what will happen after the tonglen meditation. But my experience has always been positive (usually surprisingly so). Good for me and good for the person I was having trouble with. I love win-win situations!

I’d like to know: what is your experience with this?

Tomorrow, my song “Prayer of Lovingkindness.”

Happy Birthday Mom!!


Today is my Mother’s 85th birthday. She was 25 when she had me, her oldest daughter (second of seven children). Now her life is wrapping up. After a series of many small strokes or “episodes,” she has significant cognitive loss according to testing. (Not Alzheimer’s.) She was a registered nurse for many years (maybe 50?). But now she cannot recall many words that used to be easy for her and she more often loses her train of thought, which frustrates her.

Yet every Monday we have these amazing conversations, talking of our week, our lives, our memories. I try to be calming and newsy: what’s going on with the kids, my husband, or my writing. We try not to talk too much about the medical. I may describe a squirrel swishing his tail on the tree in front of me. And we both remember that my Dad loved to watch the antics of squirrels in our backyard. I am grateful she knows who I am and remembers what is going on with our family. We both consciously treasure these conversations, this time we still have. This is the most recent poem for her.

9/12/11  Monday

An Ordinary Conversation

My mother wanted to remember
and I want to remember

this particular conversation
which started out about disarray

of a problematic week and
took a journey to calm consideration

of life as it plays out.
And if her voice is rough, throat dry

and if memory slips in and out
well, so what? Here we are still

talking of past and mostly present
telling stories that mean something

lending support, encouragement
eye to eye, heart to heart.

What could be better than that?

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 2011