Category Archives: encouragement

Awaiting Further Instructions

I really resonated with an April 17, 2013 Facebook post by Lissa Rankin, MD, author of the new book, Mind over Medicine: Scientific Proof that You Can Heal Yourself. Here is the post in entirety (used with permission):

“What if confusion, uncertainty, indecision, and lack of clarity didn’t paralyze you or throw you into fits of anxiety and impatience? What if you could just make peace with the fact that, sometimes, there’s nothing to do. It’s time to simply await further instructions and trust that the way will be shown to us when the timing is right.

What if there was no judgment around times when the future is fuzzy? What if you’re not flaky or clueless or lacking insight or wrong when you’re not sure what’s next? What if it’s just part of the process, and our only job during these times is to be mindful, pay attention to Signs from the Universe, listen clearly for further instructions, and then trust the instructions when they come so we can be brave enough to take action when the call comes?

Try this prayer: “If I’m meant to do something, please make the action clear. If I’m meant to wait, please grant me peace.”

When I read this I felt calmer during a confused, “fuzzy” time. I was more able to be still, rest, remember to breathe, and await further instructions. Two poems came to mind to help me.

This Is the Moment I Have

not tomorrow
with its joy or sorrow.

This is the moment—
when I floss my teeth,
and stand on two strong legs,

smiling in the mirror
at a face topped by hair.
This moment of easy breathing

with husband and children
deeply sleeping nearby.
This moment with fresh, cool

spring air blowing in my window
from a dark, rich night capped by stars.
This is the moment I have,

not next week or next month,
however much time and energy
I spend planning them.

How often am I actually
here…
in this only moment I have?

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 1997

From As Easy as Breathing
and my CD, Full Blooming

Illinois Rest Stop Copyright 2006 MDMikus

Still You Know

For Karen

When you’re driving
down a road
wrapped in deepest fog

still you know
you trust
the road is there.

Whether you’ve gone down
this road a million times
or just one,

though you can’t see
beyond your nose,
still you know the road is there.

You may slow,
you may be cautious
and cling to the center stripe,

still you head
where you are going,
still you trust.

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 1998

From As Easy as Breathing

This is not the same as being in denial or avoidance. This is the natural cycle of replenishment and reevaluation necessary to wielding our true creative power in the world. I like this idea of awaiting further instructions…in whatever form they may come to me.

What do you do when your life seems stalled? Spin your wheels or settle into it? Let germinate or rush off to be doing something…anything to keep moving?

Good-bye, Jean McGrew

I met Jean McGrew in 1998. She was 14 years older and a retired kindergarten teacher. Some years before, she’d had a liver transplant (following hepatitis C). Jean wrote poems to her new life-saving liver, “Oliver,” among other things. We connected right away, in part because we both were poets writing about healing, in part because we were each on a spiritual quest and liked to laugh.

Several times a year we would meet for lunch at Hackney’s in Lake Zurich, IL and catch up. For the last few years, we were in contact more by email. She was always wonderfully upbeat and optimistic. I attended one of her extraordinary “Healing Basket” presentations where she used props from a basket to accompany her stories and poems. Lovely and moving. I encouraged her to get her inspiring poems out into the world where they could help others. She ultimately self-published four poetry chapbooks. She enthusiastically read my work and encouraged me to keep writing, not to get discouraged and give up. Really, we were mutual mentors.

Though our life stories were different in many ways, we were also kindred spirits. I wrote two poems for her when we first met. She was surprised by how different it felt to have someone write for her for a change.

In August, just a month after my Mom’s death, I got a call from Marcia, Jean’s daughter, with the news about Jean’s peaceful passing. (Thank you for the call, Marcia!) Here is a recent poem I wrote about Jean. It refers to Monet’s bridge at Giverny, France, which Jean used as a healing symbol during chemotherapy, eventually having her picture taken on that very bridge after recovery. I will deeply miss her.

8/29/12

Jean McGrew Crosses the Bridge

(Call from her daughter, Marcia)

So I did hear after all
when Jean heard the call
and left this life

as she lived it,
on her own terms,
with spunk and clarity,

family gathered round
for the last peaceful breath,
comforted by their mutual faith.

I miss her encouragement,
optimism, healing words, determination,
contagious inspiration, poetry, good humor,

writing to her heart or liver,
envisioning Monet’s bridge at Giverny
to cross over the ocean back to health,

her talks at the library, wellness, and senior centers
complete with healing basket of props,
poems, stories, heartfelt collections,

compassion, support, persistence,
lunches at Hackney’s in Lake Zurich.
Miss you, rare kindred spirit!

Inevitable I reach an age
where my mothers are gone
and gone and gone and

I am left
mothering
on my own.

“We are always close
in heart and spirit,”
she last wrote to me.

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 2012

Being More Fully Yourself

A brand new poem—from a lot of stuff swirling around in my head and then coming together. Eric, you have heard me write about: Eric Whitacre, the composer and conductor, Prada I will be talking more about, I was her Spark mentor this spring, Crystal is my friend and amazing massage therapist. For a while I have gotten away from this blog, but not from writing. Time to share more, so here we are. What are you doing to be more fully yourself today?

6/14/12

From Eric, Prada, Crystal, and Others

To be fully
yourself
to hit that
moving target
keep going
keep growing
keep glowing,
to remain essential
yet expansive
inviting others in
but unconcerned.
Who are you,
why are you here?
Not to dwell on
the obvious
but what are you
good at
what calls you
or heals you?
What fills you
with almost unbearable
joy?

Do that
Be that
Don’t settle

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 2012

More Poems Inspired by Virtual Choir 3 “Water Night”

The Rest of the Story:
My January post was about trying to get over laryngitis in time to sing in Virtual Choir 3. Inspired by the process and Eric Whitacre’s glorious music I wrote the poem, Creation of Water Night. It turned out that this was just the first poem that would insist on being written. All part of what became my VC3 almost-compulsion, culminating in three videos submissions. The first two recordings were seriously flawed (and ultimately deleted). I kept working and hoped I would have enough voice to record a video I felt good about. As days went on, I conserved my voice, speaking little and singing only to get warmed up. Every day I listened to the Alto 4 practice part, worked on the words, read the VC 3 Facebook page, and made sure the tech side was OK at my end.

On Monday before the deadline I was able to take a voice lesson with my teacher, Kip Snyder, which firmed up where to take my breaths. That night I got all ready, makeup on, black top, new blue yeti microphone and computer set up. And then…no voice. Disappointment. One day left. Not procrastination, but close to desperation. I wanted to be OK no matter whether I recorded a video or not, but I really, really wanted this!

And on the last day, Tuesday, in the afternoon, just before the site shut down from the deluge of new entries, I slipped in and recorded. I watched the playback and felt good about it. Not my best sound ever, but no big mistakes, good energy and warm, full heart.

Thank you Eric Whitacre and all the VC 3 people for incredible inspiration. Thank you! I read the VC Facebook page every day, soaking up all the unfailing encouragement and tech help given to others. Thank you! I was amazed and moved by the variety and poignancy of all the stories. Thank you for sharing! I felt (and feel) powerfully connected to this group (In this composite photo I am the third one down and fourth one over from the top left side.) Had a hard time coming down to earth for days after. Here are the poems that tell the story. (With yesterday, In the Dream, the sixth and likely last poem in the series.)

1/27/12

Becoming Virtual Choir 3

Drawn to the music
uncontrollable pull
notes aligned as iron filings
to a magnetic pole

a force of nature
to be reckoned with.
Why these notes at this time
calling to singers of the earth-based web

to unite in dissonant harmony
to sweep and swoop and soar on expelled breath
to help and heal and mold and meld
disparate stories and trials and successes

into one? Why not?
The woman who had heart surgery
the day after singing her submission,
a short reprieve, music replacing fear for her.

The young man from the Philippines
joining for the first time, struggling with technology.
Those with colds and tests and life ongoing,
husbands and kids and dogs supporting.

The woman who gave birth
soon after singing her part.
Those confident few doing what they do
and the rest of us in need of nurturing confidence.

The encouragers and tech fixers: David and Jack,
Sarah and Tony, with unfailing encouragement
and good advice, someone ever-present, determination
and persistence in support of whoever steps up to the plate.

And when the designated time is over,
to be a part of something larger,
if that is not spiritual,
what is?

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 2012

1/28/12

The Signature

To EW with gratitude

The beauty of dissonance,
in itself…and resolving,
the strength of moving to
and off of and onward,

continuing the run, each note
clear and strong, not shy away from
close connection,
let all notes be possible together

in the greater scheme of things.
Regardless of what was taught
about what was right or right rules once
in the world as it existed then.

To let become and bloom
from sheer joy of breath and sound
as if the world is being
created all over again…

as indeed it is…
from pure vibration.

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 2012

By this point I was getting desperate and that tightened my throat which did not help my voice to loft and soar. I remembered why I sing: to be filled with joy. And my husband, Stephen, came to the rescue giving me this image from when he had coached young kids in softball. When a kid tried too hard to hit the ball and kept missing, Stephen made it easy saying, “See the ball, hit the ball,” taking the overactive brain out of the equation. As funny as it might seem, this was the perfect antidote to nerves as I made my last attempt at recording. And it worked!

1/31/12

See the Ball, Hit the Ball

(Remembering Singing is Joyful)

Weight of expectation
and longing full on desire
too much for fragile voice,
neck and shoulders to bear.

To be soft and lyrical
superhuman arc of breath,
to sing with a smile inside,
sound blooming in its time.

What could be ideally,
illusive now but possible
maybe just once, not perfect
but joyful… and that is enough

for temporary euphoria, transient bliss,
deep satisfaction of success.

2/3/12

Muriel Rukeyser

Translated Octavio Paz

The translator almost
unnoticed,
byline at the bottom,
who opened a door
between one language and another,
facilitated what would come after:
the music, the singing, the connection,
dissonance melting into unity or harmony,
the web-strands covering the map,
the euphoria, the sweat, the effort,
the heart moving to tears
of joy it is said,
maybe also loss and pain.
So many choosing to join
something greater than any one.
Begun with a choice of one woman,
or begun with the poet calling and then her choice
who brought to the task
all she had been and been longing,
who took a certain risk
for reasons unknown.
How the chance was offered
with unknown compensation,
no separation between survival and poetry.
And though she is dead,
words are not and the circle
led me back to them.
When she was old did she
remember what she had done,
aware in the waning hours then
what would come?

Watch for the April 2 launch of Virtual Choir 3 in Water Night!

A Dream About Eric Whitacre

Context:

In a previous post I wrote about wanting to be in Virtual Choir 3, singing an alto part in “Water Night, a gorgeous and moving piece written and conducted (online) by Eric Whitacre. I did make it to submit a video with just enough voice to feel good about it (more later). Last Saturday, the “group photo” was posted of the 2945 people from 73 countries who submitted videos. After looking through all of the thumbnail photos and not finding mine, I remained calm. It was late (2AM), but I went back to the beginning, promising myself I would look again on Sunday. And there I was! third one down, fourth one over from the top left corner. I felt absurdly pleased and light-hearted. The launch of Virtual Choir 3 is April 2. I can’t wait!

Today though, I’d like to tell you about a dream that happened two months later. And the follow through…

Yes, composer Eric Whitacre, is a dreamy character (who gets a lot of comments about his perfect hair), but it was not that kind of dream. This was more to do with creative encouragement and wanting to express something deeply heartfelt and essential. To be bold. A challenge to be fully myself. Well, you’ll see…

3/3/12

In the Dream

which seemed real
I met Eric Whitacre
and I was not red-faced
and tongue-tied.

I handed him a paper
and said “I have written a poem”
and “Here, I have written some music.”
And he responded upon glancing

“This is a song” and
sang the music
which fit the poem perfectly
liking it enough on the spot

he decided to use it
for his next performance.
I was at that concert in rich detail
an informal setting

full complement of musicians
and singers and Eric
conducting the first half.
I awoke after the break

before they played one
note of mine.
And out of that dream
in that state neither dream nor waking

came the conviction
to give him
the perfect song, with my lines:
“I know that/ I am not my hair…”

and deeper
and more.

The shy voice says
step back while
the brave voice says
step forward

and be seen.

So here is the song for you Eric Whitacre, in the spirit of the poem. I wrote it in 1996 when facing chemotherapy for breast cancer and loss of my own blonde hair (and also a loss of identity). I adapted the poem “I Know That” (which is now in my book, As Easy as Breathing).

I Know That:

I am not my hair,
I am not my eyebrows,
I am not my hunger,
I am not my tears.

I know that:

I am not my anger,
I am not my hopes,
I am not my scars,
I am not my fears.

I am not my mother,
or my mother’s mother,
I am not my aunt. I am not my sister
or my children or my husband.

I am not my past;

I am not my body;

I am the one inside,
along for the ride,
to get what there is
to get and to give
what I have to give.

Recorded the song on my CD, Full Blooming. (Track 19 on iTunes).

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