Often Unsung Heroes

What a pleasure reading my poem, “Mantles of Transformation,” (see previous post) for the large, enthusiastic group that showed up at the Artists Reception for the Women’s Journeys in Fiber Retrospective Exhibit! It took place in the old Dole mansion built in the 1860’s that is slowly being restored by the community. Very cool! Interesting contrast between the 100 pieces of vibrant, colorful art with the intricate wood trims and their peeling paint, the lofty ceilings and crumbling walls (not yet restored). The art and the good company nourished me yet again.

In one of those pre-sleep flashes the night before, I remembered I had written a new poem for Jan Gerber, the curator and coordinator of ten years of these fiber arts projects. I read the poem to see if it seemed “settled” and gave it to her as a surprise.

Then I began my reading with this recent poem. What of yourself do you see in her?

11/23/09

For Jan Gerber

You are the seed crystal,
the often unsung hero,

the gatherer, the glue,
the creative spark,

the tranquil reflecting pool,
the gypsy fortune teller.

The one who risks,
the nurturer,

the shock absorber,
the way seeker,

the book maker,
the curator, the midwife,

creator of the grand design,
the one who keeps on.

The dreamer
and follower of the dream.

Trust, patience, truth,
good humor, good heart,

intelligence, hope,
inspiration, courage.

Listener, speaker,
avid student, natural teacher.

Persistent. Determined.
Enthusiastic. Resilient.

Kind and generous.
What of myself

is mirrored in you?

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 2010

Mantles of Transformation

In 2000, I was inspired by the Mantles Project displayed as part of the Fine Art of Fiber show at the nearby Chicago Botanic Garden. About 30 unique, colorful garments created by local women artists, each reflecting their spiritual/life journey. Awesome. I took many photographs and then the lines began in my head to the poem below. I used my photos as a watermark behind the poem and also read it to the group.

You can see these beautiful garments (https://www.womensjourneysinfiber.com/) at a new exhibit, Women’s Journey in Fiber Retrospective Exhibit at Lakeside Legacy Arts Park, 410 Country Club Road, Crystal Lake, IL, https://www.lakesidelegacy.org/ running Jan 4-22. (Curated by Jan Gerber) Don’t miss this extraordinary vibrant show!

I will be reading “Mantles of Transformation,” at the Artists Reception Jan 17 at 2-5 PM Come join us!

Mantles of Transformation

by Margaret Dubay Mikus

The clothes I wear define
the role I choose to play,
or choose without knowing a choice.
And if I wish to change my past
in the endless unfolding drama,

I naturally would change my garb.
I might buy an outfit that better suits
who I am becoming
or I might fashion with my own hands
a garment of my own devising.

I might think on it and meditate
and in the end just wait
until this mantle of transformation
slowly reveals itself to me….
And my hands begin, as my mind lets go,

to weave from all I know, using
threads from my past
and hopes from my future
and Divine breath with every suture,
all woven into my wondrous creation.

And once I have done it
I know I can
begin with a dream
and make it so I can hold it
in my trembling hands.

And once I have done it
I know you can too, create
a mantle to proudly wear
as you set your course
for a new destination.

We can weave all the love we are
into each moment, each hour,
all the kindness and compassion,
all the fire, longing and desire—
I’ve seen it done.

Thirty women met in a class last year
and began a course none knew well
to discover what lay ahead.
And together, with conscious intent,
each made manifest her heart’s desire:

a mantle of vivid color, pastels or black and white.
Of lace or silk, memory and mist, sweat and tears,
beads and buttons, laughter and determination.
As time went on, they helped each other
realize their lofty goal: to show themselves

and show their world, be it large or small,
a piece of their true magnificence,
remembering as they sewed or knit
what joy in pure creation.
And whether each mantle turned out

as originally envisioned was unimportant,
their lives changed as their hearts opened
and hands worked, each creation becoming
a thing alive, growing and evolving.
Each “baby” was then birthed in its own time,

with many midwives to assist
and encourage and breathe with the “mother’
and to admire each “baby” as it slipped out
and gave a first lusty cry.

Each mantle unique as each woman,
each story one of a kind.
Each mantle unique as her face, her vision,
her spirit, her voice, her life experience.

And it came to be that the mantles were displayed
in a location perfect to see them all and be inspired,
and then moved to another center of art and another….
Will the mantles go home or will they travel,
gallery art or wearing apparel?

Many doors are open, the future
limited only by imagination.
Where could these divine creations go
to spread their inspiration?
A book, on the radio, TV, or the web,

postcards, note cards, and who knows what.
Or the mantles might quietly return to their makers,
to cloak her, to be her flame and let her bask in
well-deserved glory. In the end we find:
it is not the destinations—

it is the journeys that most move us.

Copyright © 2000

mantle: noun and verb

A loose sleeveless coat worn over outer garments; a cloak
Something that covers, envelops
Ornamental facing
Zone of hot gases around a flame
Sheath of threads that gives off a brilliant illumination when heated by flame
Cerebral
Layer of earth
Blast furnace above the hearth
Wings, feathers, and back colored differently from rest of the body
Fold or pair of folds
To spread or become extended over a surface
Covered with a coating, as froth
Overspread by blushes or colors

From American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language, 3rd Ed.,
Houghton Mifflin Company, 1992

Choice Point

It is a miracle! The blog “mechanism” allowed me to copy/paste from Word and post this poem! I forgot my past frustration and difficulties and started to put this poem in, then remembered that “It” hadn’t been allowing me to put even one letter from Word into this blog. Oh, do it anyway. Then!! Amazing!! It worked!!

Which means that I can again—easily—share my work on this blog. That light you see is the big smile on my face. As if the Universe is again aligned on my behalf. Silly, I know, but still…

I have been sharing this recent poem with friends, so I am sharing it with you too. As always, many things were swirling around that influenced this piece. Mary Jane is an interior designer (and lovely person) who is interested in healthy environments. I got to know her at the perfect time right before we were going to paint our house. Stephenie Meyer is the author of the very popular Twilight series, which I began reading when William Bloom, recommended them in an email newsletter and then my daughter asked me to read them with her. I already had the first book on my shelf. You know how sometimes you buy a book then it takes a while to actually read it? (Once I started, I gobbled all four of them up.) And finally, I noticed that I had recently met a number of men who were divorced and who struggled with that. This poem is dedicated to them. Of course it could be about any life-altering event.

10/17/09

From Mary Jane and Stephenie Meyer

For Ira, Bob, Geary and Eric

Something that shatters
pre-existing life structure
stretching out to the foreseeable future.

No restoration
of equilibrium
or the familiar,

the details
don’t matter:
a choice point where

all is divided into
before…and after
and darkness is the dominant color,

the decisive end…of what was,
the promising beginning…of what is:

verdant, vivid vibration,
riot of sensation,
vibrant colors of all description,

almost beyond bearing.

You get to the point
where you say this
lightening bolt that struck me

was the best thing
that ever happened.

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 2009

Breast Health Month…Every Month

October is Breast Cancer Awareness month. I prefer a focus on Breast Health rather than cancer. Let us examine our breasts with love rather than fear as a natural part of taking good care of ourselves. Let us listen to our bodies easily, before they have to scream to be heard over the daily cacophony of life, often taking care of others first.

Twice I have had breast cancer, in 1996 and in 2007. I learned a great deal about healing body, mind, emotions, and spirit. And each time I was cracked open–in a good way–breaking through old defenses, encouraging me to bloom. Even my relationships were healed. Writing saved me, allowing me to access inner wisdom about my healing process. This poetic journal, begun after healing from MS in 1995, continues still.

Here is poem I wrote last week. When I read it to him today, my voice teacher encouraged me to post it as part of this special month.

10/12/09

From the Stars

Here I am
naked before you,
all scars, weakness,
vulnerability revealed

as beautiful.

Steely resolve,
stubborn determination,
hard-won power

as foundation.

Unashamed,
unassuming,
hiding nothing
I might once have deemed

unacceptable.

Something to be said for
enduring, growing,
transforming, transcending.

Every wrinkle
tells a story
of care or neglect.

every scar a tale
of chance or choice,
guilt, healing, awareness, or regret.

I can tell you
have come from the stars
just to see

life here in action.
Here I am.

Margaret Dubay Mikus
Copyright 2009

Making Big Changes

Some time ago I realized I needed to make changes in my home to support my own healing and health (and that of my family). This is a nice house, but things had gotten worn and shabby and repairs were needed. Everywhere I looked something called for attention. It was like a balloon with a thousand pinholes, leaking out the air. I noticed myself often saying that I slept better away from home. Our 22-year old carpet (and its disintegrated pad) had to go to help my breathing and to eliminate my chronic morning cough.

Years went on and though we made plans, the work did not get done. It was a big project to contemplate, a major remodeling: revitalizing the entire house.

In June, I went to my first women’s writing conference at Skidmore College (International Women’s Writing Guild.) (see June and July posts) I was welcomed and found a small group that fit me well. At lunch one day, one of my new friends said she had removed her old carpet even though they could not replace it right away. It was better to live with plywood floors! I was inspired to get going in my own house.

The time was right—or the planets and stars aligned or something. We easily found the right person to oversee the project–and right in our neighborhood! Elliot was one of those experienced, positive attitude, good energy people who was connected to the other good workers we needed.

Early on, I realized this was a huge opportunity to clear away years of clutter, freeing up space for current living. This was a highly charged emotional process for me. Deep feelings surfaced of perceived past failures in my creative work. Self-forgiveness and inner guidance were essential. Also daily energy balancing. Unlike before, somehow I was not frustrated at having to put aside “my work”. It was clear that raising the energy of the house was the work I needed to be doing. And this would pay off in the work arena too.

Knowing me, you can imagine I wrote a lot these past three months. I will release a new collection once the dust settles. (see previous post) Here is a poem from last night (2 AM). Getting toward the end of it all and looking back.

10/6/09

This Big Thing

If you knew how long
it would take to do
this big thing,
this vision,

you would never begin.

If you knew how much
energy at times,
how little sleep at times,
how many tiny details

would make up the whole,
what worries, what waiting,
what driving, what negotiation,
what re-invention, what chaos,

you would never begin.

You would not know how
the progress of day to day
could feed you,
awaken you, open doors for you,

let in light and space and room to breathe.
If you had not trusted,
if you did not understand clarity,
if you thought you were standing alone

you would never begin.

Of so it seems
about all the other times
big plans stalled,
and so it seems

looking back on the
peaceful revolution miracle of
allowing change to unfold,
even embracing.

From fearful to sure,
or sure enough
to take one step…
and then another, not necessarily big leap.

Not to erase the past,
but creating the future, your future,
from the endless supply
of present moments.

Margaret Dubay Mikus
Copyright 2009