Telling the Truth

connecting the dots of my life

Category: Writing

They shut me up in Prose —

bird-flying-free

In this somewhat grimly humorous poem, Emily compares her childhood as a ‘little Girl’ with the way ‘They’ treat her as an adult. My comments follow.

They shut me up in Prose –
As when a little Girl
They put me in the Closet –
Because they liked me “still’ –

Still! Could themselves have peeped –
And seen my Brain – go round –
They might as wise have lodged a Bird
For Treason – in the Pound –

Himself has but to will
And easy as a Star
Abolish his Captivity –
And Laugh – No more have I –

c. 1862

Emily Dickinson Poems, Edited by Brenda Hillman
Shambhala Pocket Classics, Shambhala 1995

What a great word — ‘still.’ Read the rest of this entry »

Sub-Liminality

never-never land

of premonitions

whispers of the soul

almost precursors

imperceptible

~~~

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 26 November 2016
Response to WordPress Daily Prompt: Liminal

 

Waiting for God

My soul-mind-body health barometer is a nasty piece of business. Totally independent of my plans and wishes, it does its duty whether I like it or not. It won’t be bribed or bought off with promises to do better tomorrow.

And then there are those pesky paydays. Days when what I wish were true about me has to face harsh reality. Inconvenient reminders of how I’m progressing in soul, mind and body. Or not.

I seem to have arrived on this earth with a predisposition to try harder, more often, more consistently, in better form, with a better attitude. Never give up. Just keep practicing. Little by little today; giant leaps tomorrow. Yes, you can reach the sky. Just pick yourself up and try again!

This morning, however, my soul-mind-body wants something different. The kind of difference Simone Weil writes about in Waiting for God.

There are those people who try to elevate their souls
like someone who continually jumps from a standing position
in the hope that forcing oneself to jump all day—and higher every day—
they would no longer fall back down,
but rise to heaven.
Thus occupied, they no longer look to heaven.

We cannot even take one step toward heaven.
The vertical direction is forbidden to us.
But if we look to heaven long-term, God descends and lifts us up.

God lifts us up easily.
As Aeschylus says, ‘That which is divine is without effort.’
There is an ease in salvation more difficult for us than all efforts.

In one of Grimm’s accounts,
there is a competition of strength between a giant and a little tailor.
The giant throws a stone so high
that it takes a very long time before falling back down.
The little tailor throws a bird that never comes back down.
That which does not have wings always comes back down in the end. 
― Simone Weil, Waiting for God

And so I’m challenged today to wait for God. To give up jumping through hoops and trying harder, hoping for something better. I anticipate God’s descent to lift me up, and kindle quiet thanksgiving in my heart.

We cannot take a step toward the heavens. God crosses the universe and comes to us.
― Simone Weil, Waiting for God

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 23 November 2016
Response to WordPress Daily Prompt: Anticipation

In the spice bazaar

img_4548

In the spice bazaar
temptations aromatic
waft through air
heavy with longing
I reach out my hand

***

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 21 November 2016
Photo credit: DAFraser, January 2012 at a spice bazaar in Aswan, Egypt
Response to WordPress Daily Prompt: Aromatic

Teach us to number our days

teach-us-to-number-our-days

One year ago I celebrated a birthday. Today I’m celebrating birthday #73, yet it feels as though decades have passed since 20 November 2015.

I’m writing this on Saturday evening. A cold front is moving in, and a strong, cold gusty wind is already whirling around in the dark. Read the rest of this entry »

Ostentatious Leaders

Ostentatious Leaders
preen before Desperate Adoring Citizens
clothing each other in superlatives
one flimsy piece at a time.

Has it become impolitic to tell the truth?
Or is it fear?

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 19 November 2016
Response to WordPress Daily Prompt: Ostentatious

Lassitude percolates

Lassitude

percolates

pore by pore

disarms

body spirit

induces

slumber

of denial

***

I know this feeling. The desire to escape into dreamland–literally and figuratively. I thought I’d tamed this beast. I have my short list of things to do today. They’re small, I admit it. Yet they’re forward-looking and constructive. Not in the world’s eyes, but for me personally.

Still, I find myself fighting it again. Putting things off until later. Pretending my days aren’t numbered, or that my contributions don’t matter. Allowing this way of thinking to seep into every pore of my body and spirit. . . . . . . . . .a life-numbing, bitter, death-dealing brew.

This is my wake-up call.

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 17 November 2016
Response to WordPress Daily Prompt: Percolate

I felt a Cleaving in my Mind —

chaos-in-markets-britain

Here’s a timely poem from Emily Dickinson. She captures what it’s like to be at loose ends. Unable to think straight, sort out feelings, or fit oneself into the new reality. My personal comments follow.

I felt a Cleaving in my Mind –
As if my Brain had split –
I tried to match it – Seam by Seam –
But could not make them fit.

The thought behind, I strove to join
Unto the thought before –
But Sequence raveled out of Sound
Like Balls – upon a Floor.

c. 1864

Emily Dickinson Poems, Edited by Brenda Hillman
Shambhala Pocket Classics, Shambhala 1995

Things undone aren’t easily put back together. Especially when accompanied by Read the rest of this entry »

My Mini-Adventure with D

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Glen Eyrie Castle, where D and I stayed – at the heart of the conference grounds

Imagine being dropped into gorgeous Colorado Springs autumn weather, on the grounds of Glen Eyrie Conference Center with about 90 other people, all of whom know your name but not your face. That’s where I was from Thursday through Sunday—with David (aka D), my husband of over 51 years.

The occasion? Read the rest of this entry »

A First-Class Woman

first-class-service

Cold
Tired
Watching first-class people
Get first-class service
In rows
Directly in front of me

Listening
To weary discontent
In my heart Read the rest of this entry »