Moving Poetry: In The Name of Beauty
and inevitable discomfort.
May we use what precious life we have to strike the cord of the heart in any way we can. Scrape the plot of earth you stand on and mold from its mud something that inspires a bit of wonder. A moment of softheartedness, a breath of loveliness, as if our true purpose is to look for every grain of beauty and proclaim it! To uphold beauty, even with tragedy. To look thoughtfully and compassionately for what is persistently and stubbornly true— that we are love, forever learning to love itself.
be in peace,
Sarah
The other day, I asked my son what life's most exciting thing was, and his answer was "adventure." I asked him what he feared most, and he said, "Being uncomfortable."
I didn't have the heart to tell him that his adventure would surely come with much discomfort and facing discomfort and adversity is often a necessary part of the adventure. It's through these moments that we discover our strength and resilience.
I wanted to tell him that life sometimes is like stretching a rubber band to its limit before it snaps against your wrist. To enlighten him about the seesaw that life often becomes—a balance between loving it so much and digging in so deeply grass is beneath his fingernails and the harsh days when the board tips away from the warm embrace of the sun, and into the territory of being afraid of everything that means being alive, of anything with the faintest hint of adventure. He'll find out that excitement and apprehension expand in tandem and that what he is most excited for and most afraid of will only grow in magnitude alongside his burgeoning understanding of life. But somehow, in the way he answered, I think he already knows. Maybe we all do. Perhaps we come into life with yes in one hand and no in the other and must somehow learn to open our palms and hold them without flinching. To hold both, seeing their specific contribution to Joy.
Dear little one, dear sweetheart, we are all passengers on this ride, and survival is our art. Our adventures, the color, our discomfort, the brush. Courage, beloved.
I don’t often comment but regularly listen to and read Sarah’s work. I’m struck with gratitude for the words and images you create and share. I’m guessing there are many of us, silent consumers who so greatly benefit from your art, your wisdom. I just wanted to say thank you Sarah, please know your words have comforted me, provoked thought in me when I really needed it. I’m sure creating content in this way can sometimes feel like a one way process. It’s not, you are touching so many. Thanks again.
Good morning Sarah
I too, I have always felt reservation in responding to your amazing creations of prose and poetry, thought I and acknowledgment of feelings. The reservations probably born from not feeling I could express adequately what a gift to share. So beautiful your son is able to emote and express so succinctly both sides of this paradox. I was actually driving on a country road during what I refer to as the ambrosial time of the day. It always seems to be most beautifully connected to lifetime of the day and I’m so grateful for it. This also happens to be the time I quite often listen to your compositions and heartfelt words. It’s also a time I go through many tissues, and just to let you know, it’s always tears of joy, reminding me that, though I experience both sides of this adventure, and just comfort That there are at least two other people out there experience the same so it must mean that when I feel this way, I’m not broken, but just broken open to be more alive . Thank you for sharing your gift! I enter this adventure, it’s brand new baby day, with an overwhelming feeling of gratitude for life!