Retrograde: To Look Again

During much of this month (until April 23) the planet Mercury has appeared to be going backwards in the sky (an optical illusion). According to astrologers this is called a period of Mercury Retrograde, when life may seem less smooth, specifically with disruptions in communications. Generally not the best time to sign a major contract or buy a house, for example.

Whether you believe this Mercury retrograde business or not, there does seem to be a time of “shake-up” around that time, and people don’t like it. In a workshop I took years ago, the teacher said this was a time to do things that begin with “re”: Reflect, restore, rejuvenate, replenish, review, rest, relax, redo, renovate, etc. You get the idea. A time to look back, clear out and begin life fresh again. So I do not dread these times, when my computer or internet seems more likely to be off kilter, I try to take care of myself and clear off my desk (an ongoing challenge) and not take it personally. A great time to get a massage, take a walk, breathe deeply, do yoga, re-connect with old friends…

Here is a poem I began while getting a massage with Brigitte, thinking about restoration of body, mind, emotions and spirit.

Note: Khofu was a pharaoh in ancient Egypt. In 1954 a ship (solar barge) was discovered buried at the base of the great pyramid of Giza. The ship is held together by a sophisticated system of ropes stitched through holes in the planks.

4/6/11

During Retrograde
After Brigitte

From Jell-O or pudding
reconstitute a human

build muscle in lattice of bone
use ligament and tendon

to lash the boat together
like the great ship of Khofu

that lasted four thousand years and counting
Remake organs from blueprints

found in memories’ closet
that box on the top shelf never opened

but now essential
for restoration, renovation, revolution

The eyes of innocence, not naïve or wary
but open to beauty

The ears, the tongue fresh from the factory
brain, heart, programmed for compassion

Blood courses through the map
of newly laid arteries and veins

The pump begins again
Nerves reflexively control all motion

all manner of sensation
Cleansed of barnacles of tension

washed free of grime and lampblack
covering innate light

All in all, all is well
considering…

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 2011

Happy Birthday, Alex!!

Review of As Easy as Breathing (and Full Blooming CD)

By Pramod Uday
Spiritual being, teacher and speaker from India
https://pramod.podomatic.com

Let me begin by telling you that I really love the title. On many occasions, when I was upset or worried, just looking at this book sitting neatly on my reading table brought me just enough relief to “point me downstream”. I feel Margaret heals more through this work than any other anthology.

Writing in her open, sensitive and yet detached vein as always, the poet impresses on the reader the need to get unstuck and flow with life. What one cannot but marvel at is how her poems create both the impression of having flowed smoothly through a wide conduit of inspiration and yet seem to have been subjected to the meticulous chisel of a finicky craftsmen. One can sense this palpable tension of sorts quite clearly, for example, in the piece entitled To Dance is To Be, where you find a very dynamic and lively snapshot of gracious dance movements. Let me be clear here – this conflict only adds to the merit of the poems as it provides another glimpse into Margaret’s loving care for words.

The poems address a wide variety of topics ranging from healing to allowing, filial love to finding your purpose and much more.

I highly recommend this book. However, if you want to completely relish the sweetness of Margaret’s poetry, I really think you should listen to them in her own voice as found on the CD Full Blooming, which is a reading of selected poems from the book. The enchanting quality of Margaret’s voice is so full of that rare elusive quality, what one might dub muliebrity. Margaret’s poetry itself is autobiographical. But when you listen to them in her own voice, the full sincerity and warmth of her words easily seep into the cockles of your heart. Suffice it to say that listening to this CD is like a deep relaxing session of meditation. You will find that your fatigue and stress has been removed and that your soul has been nourished and replenished from within.

Thank you, Pramod, for your generosity and thoughtful reviews. I am most grateful!
Check out As Easy as Breathing and Full Blooming CD to see for yourself.

Unexpected Fierce Mother

Amazed, I looked out into my wooded yard today. At first I thought some crows were attacking a large rabbit. But it was the other way around. She (I assume is was a she) was chasing after two huge crows like a mini-sheep dog. Ah! A tiny bunny running scared along the brick of the back of the house. Cowering in the mulch at the corner of the step. Stay there! I urged from inside, but he kept on running along the edge of the house and out of sight. Fearless and tireless, the momma kept after those crows whenever they dove down with their black wings widespread. She stopped to rest only when the threatening birds were far up in the trees or flew into the field behind us. I was called away by someone at the door, so I don’t know what happened in the end. But I was rooting for the rabbits. Even though they eat our garden, they are such a delight to see, especially the magic of the babies.

The apparently fierce mother reminded me of this poem:

1/17/04

The Fierceness of Loving

Now you are gone
the silence has a presence of its own.

I have longed to get back
to my other life,

the one that continues when you leave;
my gift to you, this letting go.

I missed you the moment you left
and allowed myself that time to grieve

and keen and then as therapy
I began to clean,

partly restoring order,
partly to focus on something concrete

and unrelated, partly meditation,
fulfilling my dream of good intention.

I missed you before you left
and struggled against

the thoughts that brought tears,
for after all you were still here.

And now
to resume a life disrupted,

not to pick up the same threads exactly—
for the river of life continued to flow

carrying me to new harbors,
opening fresh possibilities.

Thank you for coming back to us,
what joy to watch you grow!

How much I have learned
about the fierceness of loving.

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 2004

From my new book, Letting Go and New Beginnings: A Mother’s Poetic Journey
and my CD, Full Blooming: Selections from a Poetic Journal

Dad’s Birthday

Today was my Dad’s birthday. Happy Birthday, Dad! No one alive knows any more the truth or myth of the family story that his mom tried to hold off his delivery until after April Fools Day, 1925. But babies come when they are ready and even a very stubborn German lady might not be able to pull that off!

He died in 1985, (when my son was just shy of one year old). He was 60, the age I am very aware of approaching. And very aware of how young that was, how much I have left I want to do. In 2009 I posted some poems for his birthday. Here are a few more.

10/5/08

Watermelon Reminds Me of Michigan

My strapping Dad buying
a couple big, unsplit,

possibly ripe, whole ones
for the extended family reunions.

Chill and wrap in layers of newspaper
to keep cool in summer heat.

Slippery wet black seeds
could be pinched between thumb

and forefinger,
shooting some distance

into park crabgrass
or spit, with juice

running down the chin,
face a satisfied grin.

Yes, that watermelon,
sometimes salted half-moon slices

or quarters for the youngest
(don’t eat below the pink part!)

treats in the hot season,
limited availability then.

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 2008

7/18/10

Sitting With It

My uncle died last week,
my Dad’s only brother,

I was not that close to him
so the intensity of my grieving

ambushed me.
But he represented my father,

gone these 25 years,
and he represented my past, my childhood,

my tribe, my clan (all that expectation).
All the memories wrapped up in one man.

He represented all the aunts and uncles beginning to pass on
and my mother, waiting in line.

I am from Michigan people who gathered
and stayed together, supported each other.

And I left them to find myself—
the gain in that decision

greater than the loss, but there was loss nevertheless,
any connection to them from a distance.

Any relationship of my children to them,
more fragile and tenuous.

(My children did not grow up with
extended family at every important occasion.)

And now that my Dad’s brother is gone…
no more chances for understanding.

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 2010

My father was a complex man and we had our troubles growing up, but I am grateful for many things, the lessons I continue to learn from him. This poem was written as part of body-mind-emotion-spirit energy healing work I did with Tricia Eldridge (founder of Energy Touch School for Advanced Healing in Michigan) to deal with recurring abdominal weakness and other persistent health issues.

12/1/09

Old Wounds Healed

My Dad came this time,
invited to participate,

to undo what had been done,
to take back what had been said,

lodged in my gut but rightfully
belonged to him.

She said he struggled with it,
but kept on until the dark mass,

that chain and ball or anchor?
who knows, not mine,

but his, and now returned to him,
leaving me lighter, healing.

He died 24 years ago,
I have worked hard

over and over to heal and forgive.
Last week he showed up

clearer than ever—in a good way—
sitting at our old Formica kitchen table,

cutting giblets and celery for stuffing
the Thanksgiving turkey.

Was that his ethereal gold form
standing last night in my room?

Did he choose to come help
or did I call him…or both…or neither?

Just the right timing,
you know how this works:

what is ready to be healed
come up to the surface.

However painful, allowing the feeling
releases the hold.

Still true,
still true.

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 2009

IWWG at Brown, part 3

These are my final poems and a few pictures from the IWWG conference at Brown University in summer, 2010. (Some poems written at home just after.) The Remember the Magic conference has been going on more than thirty some years, a long time, mostly at Skidmore College. Last summer it was at Brown, this summer it will be a Yale, but smaller in scope. This is an organization in transition and like all transitions, personal or organizational, the outcome is not certain. The possibilities numerous and spacious. I am grateful for the weeks I had to go out on my own, with other women writers, and discover and be myself. The joy of creation and then coming home. What remains of all the glorious insight when I am back in the context of daily life?

8/4/10

To write on unlined paper
to color outside the lines

willing to be seen as different
not go along to fit in.

To be joyful
to carry a glass at least half-full.

To embrace change
as pure possibility, wait and see.

To practice
what I almost preach

to walk the talk
without squawking.

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 2010

8/5/10

For Kitt

You don’t know
what they say about you
but I do

“That Kitt Alexander,
I just love her!”
I’m not making this up

from fervent imagination.
It really happened.
Would I lie to you?

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 2010

8/5/10

Lessons in Self-Care

Every day, wake up
balance consciously as best I can
stay with it
brush teeth twice, morning and night,
shower, lotion, and deodorant.
Clothes in colors that vibrate and resonate.

Water often. Food as fuel. Walk. Listen. Smile.
There is more I’m sure,
just promise to pay attention
as best I can, as best I can.

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 2010

8/8/10

Post-Conference

Opportunities will arise
to gently exercise
underused muscles like
the muscle to stick up for yourself
to be assertive on your own behalf,
or the muscle to listen to inner guidance
without struggle or shyness,
or the muscle to hear the voice
that says time to rest.

Each an opportunity to practice
what you know is true.
This way you are is not the True-you,

just the collection of life choices
and circumstances up to now,
conscious or unaware,
added to what you came in with
and what you were given to work on.
And now is the chance to choose again,

begin to re-write the old story.

8/8/10

Thinking of You

Time and again
I have faced the inevitable end

and thus far
it has always receded

to the indefinite future
where you still are.

8/8/10

Lie Down

Lie down in the clouds above you

separate for a moment from the life you lead

float for a bit weightless

just for a moment

then drift back

light

breathe

and re-animate

wiggle bare toes, feel grass tickle

feet grounded but light on the face of earth

8/9/10

Monday Walk After Singing

Empty
Fill
Be filled

Empty
Walk to the lake
muscle kinks work out

mind stills with steps taken
See the new ivy shoots
on crumbling brick wall

Drink water
go on after intersection
Check in. Go on

Surprising how far goes
one foot in front of the other
Drink water

Turn back at the end
walking uphill now
comfortable stride

Left, right
walk with both feet
heel, toe, shoes re-tied

just right
Cut across church grass
not exactly explicitly forbidden

Drive off smiling
at workmen spreading out dirt
under very old trees

8/9/10

Someone Said

Someone said something
a small puzzle
a sliver under the skin

irritatingly hard to remove.
Why of all the kind words spoken
should these thoughtless ones remain?

Because of implication
because I want to please everyone
(including myself)

even though that is not possible—
there is no pleasing some people.
Let it go. Don’t you know.

Let it go, my sweet potato.
Talk and untangle.
Walk and calm.

Sweat and sleep and write
and bless all the teachers
who have come.

Bless and move on along.

8/9/10

Home

Back home with
magic in my bones

how to sustain
in my usual domain

where it appears
nothing has changed

the demands, the constraints
the ties that bind.

How to be as I was:
most gloriously my own?

«‹40 414243 44 ›»