abundance

Over the last few years I have been focused on abundance. Meaning, I start with the paradigm that Earth is abundant then note expressions of that abundance: leaves and acorns in the fall, flowers and medicinal plants (often discounted as weeds) in the spring, snow in the winter and so on. Although I don't live in direct relationship with Earth, I am an Earthling and I get to live within that abundance so I am intentional about noticing it. Further, whatever comes my way, I know that it is here for my evolution, my benefit. Often it is my judgement about a thing that eclipses my understanding of it as abundance. For example, the shorter days of winter are a form of abundance because they invite us into a more restful rhythm for a spell.

On an energetic level, we operate within self-fulfilling prophecies; constructing reality with intentions, paradigms, and beliefs. I think about the line from the book Wild, 'put yourself in the way of beauty.' I put myself in the way of abundance, a path I pave with gratitude.

I say all this because I'm in an overtly abundant season and need to bear witness to that abundance.

1. As you know my first full-length collection of poetry has been published. The poems in We Remember Ourselves were midwifed through the generous and thoughtful critiquing of many wonderful writer friends. That is a form of abundance. Even the process of layout and publishing was delightful and pleasure is also a form of abundance.

2. I have many readings lined up for February and beyond because Kansas City has such a supportive, thriving writing community. This is abundance.

3. Because of Kansas City's writing community, I am one of the four featured artists for February with the Missouri Arts Council.

4. And again because of the writing community, I'm a February featured artist with the Poetic Underground. Getting to answer the fabulous questions they asked me, is a practice of noticing abundance: When did you first start coming to Poetic Underground, and why do you keep coming back? I started coming to Poetic Underground around the start of the pandemic, so late 2019. I keep coming for several reasons: Poetic Underground has a strong community vibe; I respect the thoughtful and sensitive rules of engagement stated at the beginning of open mic; I value the workshop offerings; the art shared is cheered on by participants in a super encouraging way; I love the wide range of people that show up and are welcomed. Do you have a favorite Poetic Underground memory? I've been blown away so many times by the masterful work shared. But my favorite memories revolve around the quality & depth of conversation that occurs during workshops. Do you have a favorite local poet? I can't say that I have a favorite poet. I am just inspired by getting to witness people express themselves in brave and authentic ways. How long have you been writing, and how do you stay inspired? I have been writing for as long as I can remember. It's the way I understand what I experience, how I navigate the world. So in that sense, I am constantly inspired. There is so much I want to understand more deeply and the deeper I dive into a thing the more connected it is to other things, which means I get to keep writing.  What advice would you give someone who loves to write & wants to share their work, but is nervous about putting themselves out there? Earlier I mentioned that I've been writing for as long as I can remember. But it's only within the last eight years or so, that I've begun sharing my work. Several things helped me overcome my nervousness about putting my work out there. 1) Being a part of a critique group full of other writers being vulnerable with their work and experiencing the respectful way they gave feedback. 2) Seeing people share ideas that were similar to my ideas but they had the guts to share and I didn't, pissed me off. 3) Working aggressively to remove the judgemental non stop loop in my head and replace it with a loop of gratitude and awe for the incredible gift I have. 4) My mantra-there is no pass/fail-it is all a learning. 5) Cultivating a deep regard for my relationship to my art, to myself as a writer. And to some extent, the gift/responsibility that comes with that. Imagination, story, poetry--these were my spaces where I could be held and inspired. My work can do that for others too. 
   

5. Oh and there's so much more! But I'll share that as it unfolds. In the meantime, I wanted to offer a meditation on the picture above from a winter hike. There's so much abundance in that little scene: the leaves support the hibernation of many creatures. The bare branches allow sunlight to penetrate the woods, providing warmth in the cold (conversely, when I hike in the summer, the leafed out trees provide shady respite in the heat). These particular mushrooms form on decomposing tree limbs. What more proof can there be that Earth is abundant than mushrooms growing from something that's decaying? Which of course makes me wonder, what in my life is decomposing right now to form something else, to create abundance in a different form? May you find yourself in the way of beauty, in the way of abundance. Even in the seemingly dormant winter.

It's here!

Friends~

I'm excited to let you know that my first full-length poetry collection, We Remember Ourselves, has been published! This is a watershed event for me because I've been wanting to do and been encouraged to put together a book for years. And finally, as Poetry-Editor-in-Residence with Flying Ketchup press, it's happened!

I would greatly appreciate you buying my book directly from me rather than Amazon so more money comes to me rather than Bezos who did not spend years crafting these poems. And, if you purchase from me, I'll sign your book! If you do purchase from Amazon, kindly leave a review.

Currently, I'm working on lining up readings to share the poems in this collection as well as new ones I'm working on. I'll keep you posted on when and where. I'd love to for you to experience a reading with me.

In the meantime, here's a baby poem I just birthed yesterday. Now you'll have to buy my second book to see what she grows into!

make way

does not each no make way like a plow

for your every yes

sometimes no is bright as death

glorious as heartbreak

a whisper in the lonely dark          

that unlocks

the cage of coerced yesses from your lips

even when your innocent ancient wise body sang no

just as a bird wings no to gravity    yes to sky

knowing no is the biggest yes

~Mary

how is this progress

There is something delicious about the initial quiet that follows the loud boom signaling a power outage. With the humidifier, furnace, and fridge silenced, I feel a spaciousness within, as though the low hum is an auditory weight I carry without realizing its burden. Like noticing your shoulders are scrunched up to your ears then dropping them suddenly eases your tension. Is there a cost to our nervous systems to have constant, subtle auditory stimuli?

But then I started to feel the impact of no power. As I stood in my cold kitchen, I was struck my complete dependence on electricity. Without it, I could not do anything for myself. I could not warm my house, make tea, cook, or work. I don’t know how to do anything without electricity. Who does?

How is it progress to make ourselves completely dependent on something that we cannot function without? Moreover, how is it progress if the thing we’re dependent on comes from the destruction of ecosystems, communities, cultures, other species as well as threatens our own species through disease clusters and with extinction? In fact, to be ignorant about how we get electricity, which many of us are, doesn’t seem like progress. Unless this is what we mean by progress-to have what we rely on without having to know how it came to us.

This type of progress seems precarious and dangerous: to exchange our self-reliance for ease and comfort; to trade our life (time, energy, skills) to pay for this thing we cannot live without yet have no control over; to be in agreement with industries that perpetuate injustice, inequity, and extinction for this thing we cannot function without.

To be clear, I’m not (necessarily) against electricity. How could I share this otherwise? Indeed, we’ve organized our society such that we’re all reliant on these electricity-based formats as the primary ways to have conversation, conduct our work and transactions.

I’m advocating for us to examine what we mean by progress. We bend our will toward progress that makes our lives easier, more comfortable, efficient. As though easier means better, as though easier does not come at a cost to ourselves and others.

With the hum of my appliances muted, there was wide open imaginal space and I wrote by candlelight. What if, once we realize progress means the sacrifice of some for the benefit of others, we go back to the drawing boards. What if we refuse progress if it is built on hierarchical paradigms, extraction, slavery, destruction. What if progress was equitably accessible.

Nearly 45,000 homes lost power yesterday, and some are still without. On any given night there are nearly 2000 unhoused people sleeping outside in Kansas City. What if the warming stations they seek refuge in lose power? Further, we know that 59% of the US population is one paycheck away from homelessness. How is it progress to have a society of people who only know how to labor for money but not know how to directly meet their own basic needs for shelter, food, water, safety? How is it progress to have a society unaware that their way of life threatens the shelter, food, water, and safety of others?

What if progress was about resourcing ourselves and each other in life-enhancing ways for all beings; deepening our self-reliance, creating communal and shared reliance, honoring our oneness.

Curiously, once the electricity kicked in these thoughts receded under the hum.