You all might remember Audrey from the other day – she wrote me this:
“Hi Samantha!
I am on your email list and receive your beautiful poems and ideas.
I just wanted to thank you cause those emails have been inspiring for me.
I recently wrote something for my boyfriend that I titled: In Praise of The Stressed Worker inspired by your poems and that was the only way I could reach his heart. Everything else didn’t work but that poem that I did more for me in honor of him really spoke to him.
So thank you for the inspiration and also for all the love and understanding of others.
thank you, Audrey”
I had a request to publish her piece and she graciously agreed, writing,
“Hi Samantha!
You can for sure put it on your blog, I would be happy that you do because I really feel your beautiful mission and you indeed influence me to write but also helped me understand and accept my dad after the grumpy poem..:)
Thank you for asking. Audrey :)”
English is not Audrey’s first language, which I think really adds to the cadence and lilt of her writing.
It’s a pretty long piece, so here’s just the first stanza:
In Praise of the Stressed Worker
You sit there looking at your phone
Texting about work again
Even if you are supposed to be off
You got so used to that rhythm,
You know hotels by heart, eat out almost all the time, getting around pretty good. Sometimes you are craving for somebody to make you some nice comfort food.
You got so used to that rhythm, that sometimes you wonder what you would do if you had more time. Though, there is a list of things you aspire to do but you’re too busy right now. Maybe later.
You’re family guy with a big heart even if you can’t stand being around them too long.
And they all admire you and love you and care about you….
So now here’s my question for you: who in your life needs YOU to write them a poem? Will you do it?
Here’s how I know: because if you really needed to lose weight, you’d be doing it already.
In the same way that you always feel like you need more money, but it’s when the rent is due (or those shoes go on sale) that you actually find the money.
So if you’ve been torturing yourself about how you look and you are letting your mind be filled up with an endless swirl of thoughts like, “Why is my belly like that? And my hips. I used to be so much thinner. I should go to the gym. That girl over there is so skinny. I wish I looked like that. I wonder if I should try hula-hooping or pole dancing? Silly. I wish I could just snap my fingers and change my body. Maybe a juice fast? I don’t really like juice….”
(Familiar?)
Then I am here to tell you right now: CUT IT OUT.
(Now, clearly, if your weight is a medical issue and you still aren’t doing anything about it, then you must just rally all of your internal strength and get a bunch of people to help you right now. Seriously. I don’t care if you are thin or not, but I do care that you stay alive.)
I have a little story for you.
Here’s what happened:
I was meditating the other day (and, as usual, half-running my list of complaints about myself) when I suddenly felt a BOLT of energy – like a wrecking ball of energy had just hit me square in the chest – and I suddenly saw the complete absurdity of my endless self-criticizing.
1) I have a BEAUTIFUL life.
2) Life is very, very short.
Therefore, for me to spend ONE MINUTE obsessing about something as trivial as my weight is not just ridiculous, it’s a bit obscene. In the way that having a bowling alley in a private home is a bit obscene.
I was suddenly shocked at myself. That I would spend even one minute of this glorious life beating myself up seemed, at the very, very least, pitifully ungrateful.
I seized a pen and wrote:
My Poor, Ever-Lovin’ Body…
My precious, delightful, ungainly, grace-filled body
That has lived through
So much neglect
So much disdain
…and you have only ever loved me
Breathing for me even when I forget
Patient so patiently waiting for me to love you
Or even like you a little bit.
You always do your best
Even with me disapproving all the time
Oh the things I have said about you
Still you helped me as best you could.
Stockholm Syndrome.
Tell me what I’ve done
Show me every scar
Each tender spot
I’m noticing how soft your skin is
Right here
Right here
And this light I see in your eyes
How could I ever miss how beautiful you are?
© 2011 Samantha Bennett
So, as a consequence of that blazing moment I have started a new spiritual discipline:
I have spent the last several days mentally refusing to worry about how my body looks.
And I gotta tell you, it is appalling how many times an hour I start to think, “Oh, my weight is so…” and then I have to say to myself, “Stop. Think about something more interesting.”
And then 3 minutes later I’m right back. “My thighs…” and then, “Stop. Think about something more interesting.”
I cannot begin to count the amount of time I have spent over the years just idly hating myself.
Well, as of now, I am reclaiming that time and that mental energy.
I have made a sign for over my desk that says:
IF YOU ARE THINKING ABOUT YOUR WEIGHT YOU ARE JUST BORED.
GET BACK IN THE GAME.
And I challenge you to do the same.
Let me know how it goes, OK?
Having Trouble Communicating With An Overworked Partner?
This totally made me puddle up. I think Audrey sets a fine example for us all 🙂
“Hi Samantha!
I am on your email list and receive your beautiful poems and ideas.
I just wanted to thank you cause those emails have been inspiring for me.
I recently wrote something for my boyfriend that I titled: In Praise of The Stressed Worker inspired by your poems and that was the only way I could reach his heart. Everything else didn’t work but that poem that I did – more for me in honor of him – really spoke to him.
So thank you for the inspiration and also for all the love and understanding of others.
Thank you,
Audrey”
Share Alike Some rights reserved by miheco
New Year. New Poem. Enjoy!
Women Who Workshop
A scarf from India
A top that’s Loose around the Middle
Very, very, very Sensible Shoes
And an Unceasingly Kind expression
(The uniform of individuality).
You, the Bright-Eyed.
You, the Generous volunteer.
You, still working out That Stuff with your dad.
In hotel ballrooms and
Church basements and
Yoga studios and
Campgrounds and
Korean spas and
Montana ranches, Bahamian Beaches and the
Herbalist’s office
You are becoming.
It’s so becoming.
You, becoming.
And you’ve learned to
Bring a sweater and a
Thermos of hot water and
Lots of extra tissues.
You have stood in a circle
You have lain prostrate
Your bookshelf groans with
Helping Insightful Books and
Your Journals burst with line
After line
Documenting
Your becoming.
You’re becoming.
You are becoming.
Sensual
Intellectual
Hard-headed
Tender-hearted
(so tender-hearted)
With your Full-Moon Necklace and your
Chakra-Balancing Necklace and the
Beautiful Gold Ring that you
Hand-forged in that Post-Divorce Workshop
Out of the engagement ring from your First Marriage and the
Wedding band from your Second
Now you marry only yourself.
Standing before your Altar
You promise to
Love
Honor and
Cherish
Yourself
From this day forward.
You recognize that some might call it an
Indulgence
To spend time and money on
The Issues That Challenge You.
But those people can screw off (compassionately)
Because the Rush of
Self-realization when you finally put That Betrayal behind you
The poem you wrote about your daughter that
Still makes you cry
(And OK, fine – that delirious eight-day affair with that Yoga Guy –
Sweet Heaven he was gorgeous – and so bendy – )
Cannot be matched by anything that can be
Found inside your own condo.
You have found freedom.
You have healed your Inner Child and
Embraced your Inner Queen.
You are even developing a side-long glance
Relationship with the word “Crone.”
You are curious – becoming – laughing – becoming – stretching –
Because as the wise woman said If You Stop Stretching You Die – sharing –
Because that’s what Heaven’s Children do –
Rejoicing in your growing awareness that no Workshop Intensive
In the world is better than your own becoming
Coming to be.
© 2011 Samantha Bennett
When everything starts to feel out of control, it’s easy to get hard. Hard-headed, hardhearted and hard to get along with.
When we get rigid, we often try to exert some autocratic form of control (“Get into bed right now, young lady!”) which leaves everyone feeling alone and depleted.
Next time your world starts spinning, take a deep breath and concentrate on softening your heart.
Let me know what happens, OK?