After-Death Communication with my Son

Jan. 18-19 2014, EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization & Reprocessing)

Marti with Dr. Allan Botkin, The Center for Grief and Traumatic Loss, Lincolnshire IL:

Dr. Botkin developed this method working with veterans for 25 years. EMDR leads the brain to activity like what we do in REM sleep at night, processing experiences. It worked very fast with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, but incidentely he discovered the vets were also seeming to be in actual contact with the people they had trauma with. He went on to work with this phenomena as well as PTSD. For more details see his book: Induced After Death Communication,2005, Hampton Roads Publishing Co., Inc., Charlottsville VA.

Jan. 19th. After paperwork and a description of the process, we began. Dr. B had said that usually people don’t have an experience of the presence of their non-physical loved one until the second session. We would start with healing some strong emotion we have about them. The usual emotions are anger, guilt, or sadness. He could see sadness in my eyes from the moment I walked in, and I knew this was true.

He told me we would do the eye movement while I feel my great sadness.

We did this. I was immediately sobbing while I followed his quick moving lead with my eyes, without moving my head. When he was done, he told me to close my eyes and experience whatever comes.

I felt myself holding my firstborn newborn little son in my arms. I felt such immense love and awe for him! But I was also aware in the present moment of my ambivalence about motherhood. I was still crying (here in the office). He then asked me to go back into that image and stay with it as we did the eye exercise again. I did this. The past and future around the scene dissolved so that there was nothing but that moment, and then it was perfect joy! Taking away the judgments about where this event was going, or whether it was the right or wrong path for my life, the moment of holding my newborn was pure joy.

Then he asked me to feel myself holding the baby in my arms now while we did the eye movement again. Afterwards, closing my eyes,

I saw my son Tom’s (adult) head He said to me, ”Mom, relax!” Then something like “Just be here, now. Just be present. You’ll never make any progress healing your back until you can learn to do nothing!” I felt him present with me, smiling. His voice sounded just like him, very deep.

Then I saw him pulling himself swiftly upward, rising up by some intention and volition inside himself. He went into an area of great light, seemed to fill himself up with energy and light and love and enthusiasm from this source, and then descended back with me. He said he can do this any time he wants to, any time he needs to. It’s like filling his gas tank. And he can give this energy away to others, too. He does it for me and for others at times.

Then suddenly he said, “Mom, I gotta go. So long! “ And he jumped on a broomstick and flew off waving to me and laughing. Then I saw he had on a witch’s hat. He waved and called back, “Tell Anne Marie!”

This was just so funny! I couldn’t stop laughing. It was so like him to be playful and silly. Plus Anne has a special interest and soft spot in her heart for witches, so his choice of this costume was particularly meaningful, and added evidence that it was really Tom.

After Saturday’s session, back home, I continued to ask Tom a few questions out loud and received answers:
  • I asked him how Aaron, his stepson was doing. He described Aaron’s situation. I knew he’d joined the army for 8 years, after having been a complete wimp, weakling, spoiled teenager who failed to finish high school for lack of effort. Tom said the army, of course, had made him physically strong but Aaron had not expected it to be as emotionally hard as it is. It’s many times felt too much for him Tom helps him, (without A’s awareness), and A is making it. Sometimes A thinks about Tom with embarrassment because Tom was a Quaker and pacifist, but often with gratitude for Tom’s love and example
  • I asked him if he wants me to continue being in touch with the high school students he taught or those who were in his robotics club. He said, “If they respond to you, continue to stay in touch with them (if you want; if you enjoy it.)
  • I asked him about his cat, Julius, who’s getting really old and ailing. He said Julius and my other cat, Deuce, will both stay with me as long as I want them. (within some normal limits of cat life.) i.e.there’s no reason now to worry about them or to consider “putting them down.”
  • I asked him if he knows what his dad is doing now. (my first husband, who passed away in 1987.) He said he honestly doesn’t know. When son Tom first passed over, his dad was there to help him; his dad showed up in dreams at the beginning of his diagnosis and a few nights before he died. But since Tom has adjusted, he hasn’t seen his dad at all. This is interesting to me because a psychic/medium had told me various things about people with whom I was close who passed on, but she could not find anything about what Tom Sr. is doing. Perhaps he’s taken on a new form?

2nd session, Sunday morning, 1/19,2014

During the night I had thought about what I might want to do Sunday morning with Dr. Botkin. Now I’d already seen Tom and felt at great peace about him. Was there more inside me with strong emotion that I’d like to heal? What more? I thought perhaps I’d work on my relation with my Dad as I still have lots of anger toward him.

But when I said this to Dr. B, he said it would not be good to start a whole new large topic because we might not get it finished. He only works here on weekends and so we’d have to wait to finish the work until he could schedule me in.

He asked if there are any memories around son Tom’s death that are still painful. I said yes, – the last couple weeks while we waited for surgery, when he was so terribly thin and weak, and we were both so scared, he was receiving 3 pints of blood every third day just to stay alive. So Dr. B asked me to stay with that memory while he led me in the eye movement.

I felt like the wand he uses for the eye movements was like a saltshaker, somehow breaking up the image, shaking it away, shaking the image into pieces and tossing it aside. It erased the image and put the past into the past, allowing me to be present with Tom now. The memory lost its power and freed me to be present.

I was experiencing how images in our memories build up over time, as we put more and more emotion on the images, and value judgments, it’s like building a snowman bigger and bigger. The eye movements seem to loosen the buildup and allow the memory to be just one moment in the flow of time.

Dr. B and I talked. Then he asked if there was any other memory around Tom that made me sad. I shared a feeling of guilt I had. This was at the time when his four friends from the Blackfoot Lodge came to do a prayer ceremony around him. I was in the room for it. As they entered one said “What a beautiful person Tom is. You’ve done a good job as a mother.” My response was one I often gave in that situation: “Yes. And yet I never wanted to be a mother!” I had often said this. My kids knew I loved them but also knew that I hadn’t wanted to be a mother and the loss of my career hurt me deeply. But his friends were a bit shocked and later talked with him about it and then he talked with me. I had never thought about the impact these words might have on him. I apologized then but have continued to feel really guilty and yet confused about this. When people would tell me what a good mother I’ve been, a part of me wanted to protect that other part of me that had had to be left behind, to still honor it. I could not think of what I could have said that would have felt right, but I do feel bad about it.

So Dr. B had me hold that memory while we did the eye exercise.

I saw Tom standing in front of me pouring drops of warm oil on my head and down over my whole body, drop quickly following drop. It felt wonderful! But all was silent; he didn’t speak. I understood the silence. He was saying through silence that in that situation when his friends were in the room, I could have said nothing in response to their words. He was also telling me that he did not know what words would have worked to appropriately honor the two contrary feelings I had: loving my children and not wanting to spend my life mothering. In general, Tom did not know the adequate words any better than me. “But all that is past tense,” he did say. Now I don’t have to do much mothering (I still have Anne and her children, who are a joy to me, plus stepdaughters). I have greater freedom now to do with my time what I want.” He did not know the solution to the dilemma but was pouring loving and healing balm over me.

I shared this with Dr. B.and we talked a bit. I told him that the wand felt like a brush, brushing away the image from my brain and leaving this beautiful image and physical sensation of Tom pouring warm drops of oil all over my body.

Dr. B commented that many people assume that after death the departed are suddenly completely enlightened and know everything. The experiences of his clients seem to say otherwise: that they have a perspective larger than ours, may know or understand more, but they’re still learning, too. Some say they’re “in classes”.

Dr. B asked again if there were any more memories around Tom I’d like to let go of. I quickly felt aware of my body speaking; my body remembers the exhaustion of his care. Fifteen years earlier I had cared for Tom Forsythe, my second husband, when he was completely paralyzed from a stroke. That had almost killed me! But now I was age 65 and I felt my age; it took all the energy I could muster to stand on my feet and walk back and forth kitchen to bedroom preparing his meds and food and sanitizing everything and staying up when tired. Then shopping, taking him to doctors and hospitals, etc I could barely do it, and I had very little energy left to offer Tom emotionally. I tried to get others to come and counsel him or be with him; some came but many didn’t realize how fast he was deteriorating. Of course, I didn’t know either how close we were to the end.

I also mentioned I feel the loss of time. Each time a loved one has died in my life it has taken years of my time to get rid of all their possessions! I haven’t finished with my son’s yet after four years. I do feel sadness over this loss of energy and time.

Dr. B had me hold my awareness with this feeling of loss while he led me in the eye exercise. After, as always, he told me to close my eyes and be aware of whatever happens.

Here I had a strong experience that was a surprise. I felt Tom filling my body up with light and energy, with life and warmth. It just kept coming in, like filling a gas tank, like he had shown yesterday that he could do for himself. Now he’s filling me up from The Source and I’m quickly feeling stronger and younger and healthier!

I didn’t want to come out of this at all. I was aware that at some point I’d have to leave the real experience and talk aboutit, make myself and my experience into an object to look at, leaving the real experience itself. I really did not want to do this! (To leave the experience). I also realized how much I do this – make myself and my life into an object to look at, rather than just BE. I felt so solid. I wondered if I could float off, but I immediately knew I couldn’t because I didn’t feel full of air but rather I felt really solid.

Dr. B asked me to bring my awareness back and with effort I pulled myself back to the room enough to speak but I still couldn’t get myself to open my eyes for a bit. This was an incredible experience and gift to me from Tom.

Then we talked, as we had to do. Finally Dr. B. asked if , without charging me, I’d be willing to do this one more time and ask Tom a question for him(for Dr.B). I said, “Sure”, and he gave me the question: To ask Tom what he’s exploring now.

So I asked the question and we began the eye movement. I began to get delightful images. First Tom said he’s trying to learn how to walk on clouds. I think he was being silly. I saw his foot go through one and he laughed and said it’s harder than it looks. Then I saw him playing with his friend Robert. Robert had been introduced to me through two completely separate mediums: an old friend of Tom’s, they say, and now the two do a lot together. Robert has a jazzy feel to him. Tom said he and Robert play around trying to exchange identities, and sometimes try being together at the same time in one identity.

Then they often travel around our world, seeing things they never saw. They have a particular interest in Thailand and southest Asia, but go other places, too. They esp. like to learn about the music and dance of other countries.(Tom loved both music and dancing in this life, played piano and trumpet, did contra dancing regularly) They like to hop when they travel just for the fun of it. They don’t hop on anything, just the action of hopping.

Then Tom appeared in a white gown looking like an angel, halo and all. He laughed and said, “It’s just for fun!” Then I saw a group of people nearby, also all dressed like angels “just for fun.” I realized they are, in fact, a choir! They enjoy music (Tom had a marvelous bass voice and loved to sing) and they’re experimenting. There are 18 of them and instead of our usual bass, tenor, alto, and soprano categories, they each have their own unique comfortable voice level and are attempting to sing together, each of the 18 staying true to their own true pitch. Sometimes they try slow flowing songs and sometimes faster, fun songs or sounds.

Lastly, Tom said that “people” both here in this/my world and in his are working together on a Quantum Physics kind of effort. They’re trying to understand how consciousness develops into “matter”, as we call it, and then trying to figure out how to describe this in words. “The smallest level of existence is also a consciousness! It’s awesome,” he said. “I feel such respect for these tiniest levels of consciousness, and how they form into larger cooperations and ever more complex entities.” (Tom was a high school physics teacher, so this would interest him.)

Tom indicated that this was enough to share for now. We both seemed to sense that this had been a good and adequate sharing and I thanked him. I brought my awareness back to the room and began to share with Dr. B., who found all this fascinating.

There were interesting things that Dr. B shared with me. He and his colleagues watch for information that is shared more than once by non-bodied presences. For instance, people sometimes ask, Do the dead “eat”? People frequently see picnics; one response was “We have a banquet every night.” But none of his clients has actually seen a dead person eating. Tom had shown us that he can “fill himself up like filling a gas tank when he needs to,” by returning into this light area. Perhaps eating for them has more to do with socializing.
He said non-bodied people often are seen golfing or fishing. Though he never heard of seeing a fish be caught, killed, cleaned, and eaten. He told his sister about the golfing and she said “But in heaven everything’s perfect. You’d get a hole-in-one all the time and what fun would that be?” We observed that these experiences don’t show people as being suddenly perfect and completely enlightened. People in this world of spirit seem to be learning, growing, being creative. So perhaps they don’t get a hole-in-one all the time!
Dr. B. said one client was communicating with someone who had killed herself. The deceased said she’s been in classes learning about suicide; she’d finished now and she teaches these kinds of classes.
Dr. B shared that some clients wonder if the dead can “watch” us anytime. He said that it’s clear from examples like Tom that they have their own activities going on and are not constantly pining to be with us. It seems that when we turn our attention to them or when we are in distress, they feel called to pay attention to us and they are immediately available with great compassion. But they are not hovering around with nothing to do, even if they loved us immensely. They’re enjoying their freedom and they have tasks, e.g. classes.
It seems to Dr. B and myself that there is no absolute knowledge. Even in the afterlife, people are learning and changing. When they’re in a classroom, it’s just like here – the teacher shares what’s known so far. At some time, teachers used to teach that the world was flat and the earth was the center of the universe and they saw this as “science.”. Now teachers teach other ideas as science, though these may change again, too. Probably the deceased know more than we know from their point of view, but it seems they’re still learning, trying to figure things out, growing in abilities and understanding, and being creative. They have the freedom of consciousness not burdened by the slow energies of “matter” or bodies, which even our science says is mostly empty space!
I felt greatly healed in my spirit, and I have a sense now of how I can communicate with Tom any time I want.

The Corral: Past Lives

An Unusual Cranial Sacral Treatment
With Nancy Paul, March 21, 2014
     Cranial Sacral Therapy is a gentle way of helping the body release whatever tensions or blockages it itself is trying to release. By feeling the various pulses in the body, the therapist senses where the body is trying to let go of restrictions and puts light pressure there to help the body’s own effort. Ultimately, the membranes and fluid surrounding the central nervous system from the head/cranium down to the bottom of the spine is the area most affected by this healing. A wide range of physical and emotional problems can be released through CST, allowing health to flow. I’ve been receiving this therapy from Nancy Paul for two years. She adds her own excellent intuitive skills plus training in the healing methods of Zero Balancing, a gentle touch therapy to clear energy blocks, and Reiki, a type of spiritual energy healing. Nany is also able to facilitate whatever is happening with the spirit as the body releases. I often talk as she quietly works.
The thoughts going on in my mind this March day were a hodgepodge. I had just read a short review of a new book by Eugene Gendlin on using the body to interpret dreams. A recent discussion with a friend had also revealed that we both still felt unfinished with some old conflicts in our lives and unclear about how to resolve these in our hearts. Upon arrival at the CST office, Nancy shared briefly that she’s finishing a book by Brian Weiss, well-known past life regressionist. All of these coincidences seemed to set the stage for the unusual experience of this day.
     One factor you must know to understand my experience here is that much of my world-view is based on the writings of a personality who calls himself Seth, channeled through the psychic Jane Roberts. Seth’s unusual ideas on the nature of reality have made sense to me and matched my experience, resonating more than any other worldview. His concepts of what we call past lives, plus probable selves and aspects of our larger eternal identities, emerged here on this warm table in this dark quiet room with Nancy’s fine facilitation.
                                ****
      As I lay down comfortably on the warm table in the dark room, Nancy asked if there was anything particular on my mind that I wanted to explore while she did the bodywork. I shared about my conversation regarding unfinished conflicts, noting that some people seem to haunt my mind when business is incomplete.
At first I shared what I was experiencing, then I fell into silence. Appropriately, Nancy didn’t ask me to continue talking. She was very active with my body treatment, moving herself around as she sensed changes happening.
     Some of these people from the past who haunt my brain began to show up again. I saw myself with a giant eraser and tried to erase one of them to see what was behind. What would it feel like if this person were truly absent from my mind? Then I did the same with the others. This put me in a beautiful scene, but alone. These people were like markers that keep me in my life, in my identity, for better or for worse. Also my house, my possessions, and my many “projects” that feel so important, all the people positive or negative and the memories of all the experiences I’ve had positive or negative, were all like a fence, a corral, that enabled me to stay familiar to myself. Now, out here in this very large landscape all by myself, I still looked like myself though my back felt straight, my body slender. So even my physical handicap and characteristics are part of the corral! Are these optional? Here I experienced myself as it’s said the dead experience themselves once free of their bodies – at their best physically.
      The landscape was a wide-spread valley in front of me with a broad mountain range beyond. The sun was shining, the grass was green everywhere, it was all lovely, though unfamiliar to me having grown up in the Midwest, a familiar part of my personal corral.
      I notice being alone, but presently sense that someone is beside me. This seems to be an angel, wings and all. She lovingly takes my hand and we slowly begin to float upward. Still holding her hand all the time, I begin to sense how to move myself around a bit by my own intention. She leads me downward into the valley. It’s an interesting sensation but now I can’t see the sun. “It seems darker,” I say and so she brings me back to where we were. Then she leads me higher up and over the mountain ridge.
On the other side is an even larger view. Gorgeous, expansive. There are several little villages below, none that are familiar. In front of me the sun looks enormous, brighter than I’ve ever seen it though I can look straight at it. The Sun is beautiful, the scene is beautiful. My guide is still beside me.
      Eventually we rise up and move backwards over the mountain ridge again. I see my corral and slowly, softly, float down and lie flat on the ground in the middle of it. The posts of the corral are the people who hold my old identity fast. I realize a hammer can pound them flat into the ground. They may pop up part way and I can leave them there or pound them into the earth again to reduce their effect. Now knowing what it feels like without others defining me, my identity feels somewhat freer.
      Still lying flat, I’m aware of Nancy working gently on my body, helping it release tensions in different areas. Awareness begins to come of some of my past lives. These I’ve learned over time, some in dreams, a couple were dreams that led into waking awareness, one was encountered under hypnosis. I feel that I’m in the bodies of these other lives, one by one. They are experiencing lying on the table here being worked on. The men, in particular, find it odd and wonder “What’s going on?” But each one of them seems flexible and willing to have a positive experience of this.
      The wrestler, a short stocky, quiet, black-haired man whose life is particularly connected with mine, is particularly present. He’s surprised to find himself on this table with someone moving his body here and there, this way and that. I allow myself to feel his strong back, his largeness, though I can’t quite feel my arms as muscular and large as his. He doesn’t move as freely as I, but he allows himself to be moved some. I realize that because of me several of my other lives have body problems related to mine that are mysteries to them. He also has psychic experiences and vivid dreams and doesn’t tell anyone about this. He’s looking, waiting, for the right person (probably a woman) with whom he can share about these strange experiences that come to him. He’s a semi-professional wrestler, in addition to some other kind of work. He could be professional but chooses not to walk that path.
      Nancy does some energy work over my throat chakra (chakras are energy centers in the body). Immediately I’m aware of my life as a very large, quiet shy man in Iceland. I know the ending of his life after an accident, and because of Nancy’s work here his experience changes. He’d had to pay more attention to people after his accident, because he needed help. During this chakra energy work, he finds himself talking more. First he listens to what others say more attentively (he’s fixing fishing nets), then after listening awhile he begins to talk more and more, to his own surprise, and others find his thoughts helpful.
      I’m aware of a life as an actress in England or perhaps France, blond, in some rowdy time period, with four children. She finds this experience of lying on a table with someone working on her body unusual but not difficult. By practicing the profession of acting, she gained a lot of flexibility in personality and is not as defined by others as I seem to be.
      Then I feel myself as one of my Probable Selves. Seth says that no energy dies. When we make a difficult choice in this life, the energy that wanted to go the other way, does! This is an aspect of what we simply call “past lives” but a larger world view in which time doesn’t really exist, all things are actually happening at once and affect each other. Probable Selves are aspects similar to past lives, closely related to our own conscious experience, but moving along the path we think we didn’t take. One of my Probable Selves who is a university professor of literature here in the Midwest, same birth name, and we share the same history up to a point. It feels to me that she is here now and finds this cranial sacral experience especially helpful, having the exact same back problems in both lives.
      It has seemed clear to me that I have a future life as a dancer. Somehow her life follows mine, even though time is said to be an illusion. Wondering about her seems to open a door and suddenly she’s here on the table. Her back feels much more flexible than mine; bending forward and back over and over, slowly she moves her spine, vertebrae by vertebrae. I feel her flexibility in my own body. She loves to spread her legs and leap, jump, run. This feels so healing to me. She’s very aware and careful of her physical self because of all I’ve learned living in my difficult body.
      All this large experience with other lives gives greater flexibility to my own identity. It seems like I’ve experienced what the dead must experience – a larger sense of themselves. I realize what an enormous and varied amount of memories I have here within all these many lives. The memories of this particular life as Marti now feel more temporary, with less power.
      As this session ends, my back feels very different, more flexible than my body has been in ages. And my spirit feels more powerful, my voice even sounds different! The corral seems more illusory and less infuential. I can allow it to hold my current identity if I want, or if I’d like more freedom I can ignore or pound the corral posts out of sight. One really cannot function without some identity, to recognize ourselves to ourselves and for the sake of the plot we’re living forward with other characters. The corral posts offer me stability, a point of view, a location in this world, but they needn’t be a prison.

Poem About Julius the Cat

Poem About Julius
Orange like the sun with
yummy white throat and breast and paws,
he nuzzles nose beneath my curled hand:
Scratch my nose, please. and my forehead
while you’re at it.
We feel his body rise and fall as
my abdomen breathes in and out.
I see his little ears turn toward my useless hand
that stopped caressing:
Please don’t stop he
begs sans words.
Small and big against myself, but
warm, warm, warm.
Julius no longer kneads my body before
settling down. J. can hardly walk a line these days.
At 84 in human years
my beloved, beloved friend is nearing
transition into spirit,
back from where we came like
   spring flowers jumping up
     from nowhere.
He’ll go first. and then this
warm and loving weight here on my lap will not come round
begging for a hug,
saying with his telepathic brain
stop your work so we can feel togetherness.
Then my arms and lap will all be empty,
a drifting boat.
And here am I with tears though
he’s present with me now,
my brain in both the now and then at once.
Perhaps he only feels today.
Or not.
I wouldn’t guess the amazing consciousness of cats.
Is he even now with Tom in spirit? In both worlds at once?
Julius, the last physical remnant of my son.
Don’t go!  oh please,   don’t go….

Poems for Real Spring

POEMS FOR REAL SPRING,   from the “I Would Like to Be” series
    Spring Beauty,
most delicate of all spring flowers,
early to appear,
how lovely to be her!
Small and sweet and dear,
my white five-petalled face with pink mint stripes
will smile up like a shy girl-child
at the awesome world around.
Simple, friendly,
I will open to the sun.
My thin stem will dance with the smallest breeze.
Never alone, I’ll live in a world of gentle friends
like me,
all of us playing
in the sweet spring sun and wind and rain.
O beauty protected,
O tenderness extreme,
I will speak to all the world
of the great sensitivity
of The Source of All Life.
***
       White Anemone
I would love to be a white Anemone,
Daughter of the Wind.
Thin and graceful, dancing open,
never shy.
Taller than my little sisters,
leaves much greener, fuller,
bigger face,
my sunny yellow center begging to be pollinated:
“I am ready,
I am beautiful!
O come to me now, Life,”
I’ll say with guileless joy.
Free maiden of the forest,
I want to be seen,
not hidden.
I know my beauty,
O tell me how beautiful I am!
Notice me,
my white loveliness up from the rich green floor.
Notice my readiness,
my aliveness.
Love me now in the springtime of my life.
***
     Fly
Daring raider from the sky,
I’d really like to be a fly.
I’d affirm the worth of all decay –
feces, refuse, garbage.
Rebel, pest,
I’d freely choose,
what others hate.
I’d rescue rot,
deconstructing rigid forms,
forcing change.
But here’s the rub:
the pristine, pure,
build fears and walls against invasion
of their sheltered world.
I will risk my life
to keep the world fecund.
Decay must come – the breaking down
of all that’s done and useless:
I’d aid decay
to keep new life agrowing.
I’ll even carry death when needed.
Death,
the change that all of earth accepts
but humans
who close their eyes to their return.
I’ll keep the great wheel moving…
I, the fly, will live a daring life.
Champion of the rejected,
Force for change,
I, the Hero,
Trickster,
Tease.
         ***
   Skunk
Such fun to be a little skunk!
Wherever I’d meander
all would let me pass.
Though small and shy and quiet,
what power I’d have!
It’s fun to see how silly people handle fear.
I’d give them all a chance to practice calm:
control in their panic,
attitude of care.
Friendly in my spirit,
I’d sense the open heart
through eyes and nose,
then pause and greet each neighbor,
passing on.
Curious and careful
I’d wander here and there
through woods and towns,
knowing I’m respected,
and safe,
in clever self-defense.
  ***
       Trillium
Perhaps I’d learn to be more free
as a brilliant Trillium.
Tallest flower of spring,
beautiful in balance,
unafraid to be
who I am.
Bold among the delicate,
I would not hide my light.
I’d hold my three white petals
above my three green leaves –
centered, rooted, unafraid,
shining bright above the dusky forest floor,
a lighthouse to the world.
I’d say
“Aplomb!”
Stay poised,
while reaching up and out.
Integrity, Yes! There’s joy in honesty.
Be simple! Brilliant, shining clear.
True beauty shines from inside out.”
I would not know humility
or pride.
I’d simply be
exactly as I am.
A bold and quiet Quaker
I would speak my truth
serenely,
with respect for self and others.
I would love to be a Trillium –
open,
peaceful with myself,
Aplomb.

comments

Re: poems on Daffodils

From Pamela Timme    Thank you so much, Marti. I am going to the Arboretum to see the daffodils on Saturday, so especially enjoyed reading Tom’s piece. They’re all lovely!

*****
Thank you so much Marti, I read your poem – such an eloquent description of that traumatic time – and Tom’s writing – I felt “with him” again, after so long. I had no idea he wrote that much after his stroke. And the Wordsworth poem is an old favorite of mine – I had it memorized at one point!
Love,
Marilyn Myles
******

Thank you for sharing those wonderful poems. I just finished from doing our taxes all day and reading the poems helped me return to a more peaceful, present state of being,

Sweet dreams, Vanessa
********

Marti,

I’ve always liked that Wordsworth poem, too. Ecstasy that seeps into our souls….such a lovely way of putting how beauty enters us. And your tender poem, marking that difficult, beautiful winter….then love claims the body…..that line washed over me. Thanks for sending these splashes of brightness into my morning.
Carol Tyx

Comments on Early Spring Poems

Hi Lynn,
Only you could create joy from the stinkiness of a skunk cabbage! I tried to put this comment right onto your website but I had to choose to be things that I wasn’t and failed. Hope your spaces between snows get longer. I’m at work on the last big section of my Zimbabwe memoir. Then I have to organize and add in some vignettes, but it basically feels finished.
Love, Natalie

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Marti,

What I need to live, life will offer…..such a line to hang on to. Love the simplicity and at the same time, the depth of these poems.

Your essay on dancing reminded me of a day last summer when I went to a downtown Iowa City outdoor music event. In the back of the crowd a young man in a wheelchair was waving his arms around. Feeling more outgoing than I am at other times, I went back and danced a number with him. Such enthusiasm for dancing!

Thanks for sending the reminders of life’s beauty…..as well as its complications.

Carol Tyx

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Dear Sis~

Hi there, and happy spring! I loved your poems in the recent posting – are you the author of all of them? I’d especially like to refer/reprint the Frog one – so cheery and sweet –

All the Best~ Terry
Terry Matthews-Lombardo, CMP TML SERVICES

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Great concept, Marti! Where do you get these ideas? sounds like, by sitting in quiet. They just drop by! Bonni McKeown

PRAY FOR PEACE
WORK FOR JUSTICE
BOOGIE FOR SURVIVAL
www.barrelhousebonni.com
Reconnecting generations through blues education: www.chicagoschoolofblues.com

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Hi Marti,I enjoyed the poems. They are very cute and inspiring regarding the lovely sights of spring. Now, I can not wait for spring to come and show all of its beauty. How are you doing? Its looks like all of well. Love, Dottie

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Mar 26 Re: Early Spring Poems

Good evening, Lynn! You are so creative! I just read your poems and can imagine the sights and smells!!! Even tho we still have a foot of snow on the ground and 28inches of us on the lake!!! Thank you for making my day!

Love, Jamie

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FROM Ethel Potts TO You

Marti – In Michigan we still have about half of our snow left on the ground. However, I see green shoots of a few confused snow drops in the back yard. Will they survive the still-with-us temperatures in the teens and twenties? They must be responding to the sun. Eppie

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Thanks!
Love the poems and the handicap dance story.
Nancy Paul, Lyric Healing