Category Archives: gratitude

Wisdom of the Grandmothers

AEAB-front-cover

 

Years ago a doctor who was reading my book, As Easy as Breathing: Reclaiming Power for Healing and Transformation, came up to me at a Bethany Hospital awards dinner we were attending. He told me he read a poem a night and that his favorite was this one. Please share if this speaks to you!

Wisdom of the Grandmothers

When I last spoke
to my Grandma Dubay,
when her voice was raspy and rough,
when she would occasionally
forget to whom she was speaking,
but otherwise could carry on
a perfect conversation,

I asked her what she would do differently,
looking back from now,
and she said she would
be less worried about cleaning house
and spend more time with the kids,

for time passes quickly
and so soon they are grown and gone.
She was also a great advocate
of taking care of yourself,
getting enough rest,
letting go of stress.

She ate carefully,
exercised regularly
and had a bedtime glass of sherry.
She lived a full, long life
to ninety-three.

My Grandma Schulte
also gave that advice often:
“…take care of yourself.”
How rarely I heeded their wisdom!

This may be the meaning now
of all this breast cancer:
to make a whole season of women
who have learned to take care,
and who let go of being
the “Nurturers of All,”
but themselves.

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 1996

Listen to track 13 on my CD, Full Blooming: Selections from a Poetic Journal.

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My First Journey Through Breast Cancer

AEAB-front-cover

 

My first book, As Easy as Breathing: Reclaiming Power for Healing and Transformation, tells the story of my first journey through breast cancer and into recovery and renewal. Over the years these poems have supported many people going through cancer as well as other challenges (like depression). Perhaps a gift for you or someone you know?

 

 

This poem came to mind from As Easy as Breathing.

Let the Body Speak

if it wants rest…
give rest,

if it wants motion…
give motion.

Do not nag or numb,
poke or prod,
just listen

to the ancient wisdom
spoken in language
older than any other.

Let the Body speak
in quiet, even tones,

let the Body speak
without shouting in anger

at such long neglect,
at such secondary status.

We inhabit this particular Body,
which is in our care,

for good reason,
not to frustrate us

with tests we can’t pass,
not to beat on mercilessly

“no pain, no gain,”
but to protect our luminosity,

to enjoy, to love, to grow with.
Let the Body speak

and then listen
and act on its behalf.

The Body knows precisely
what it needs, just ask…

and listen.
Be gentle, approaching

as you would a wary puppy;
put out your hand and edge closer.

The Body is familiar with deceit,
with promises made and not kept.

Trust will take time to build;
it is so easy to fall back

into old familiar patterns.
But I tell you this:

we will not regain full power
until the Body is an equal partner.

Let the Body speak…
and listen.

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 1998

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Listen to track #30 on my CD, Full Blooming: Selections from a Poetic Journal

Inviting You to a Celebration

Roadside store, Door County, Wis., Copyright 2015--MDMikus

Roadside store, Door County, Wis., Copyright 2015–MDMikus

Twenty years ago this week I began a poetic journal to “sing from the heart.” I had healed from multiple sclerosis and my creativity was cracked open. The words lined up in my ear, compelling me to write them down, see where they would take me. This was quite a surprise since I had a Ph.D. in Microbiology and had been headed for a career in molecular genetics research and teaching.

But something about writing the poems aligned me, healed me, even increasing my body temperature (another story) indicating reduced stress. At first I didn’t know what to do with them, maybe they were just for me. But I noticed that sometimes when I spoke to someone, recent poems would come to my mind. I sent them a packet of poems and they responded. The poems helped.

Sometimes after talking with someone a poem would come to me for them, not the entire thing at first, but those compelling opening lines that led to the rest. If I read the finished poem aloud to them, often I could feel the words soak in. And that poem changed some thing, shifted some small thing. I keep a folder of letters that I got after such events to remind me that this work matters, to not get so discouraged that I stop writing.

Tied Boat, Door County, Wis., Copyright 2015 by MDMikus

Tied Boat, Door County, Wis., Copyright 2015 by MDMikus

So for you now, here are a few recent poems. During this past year I have had several serious medical problems and at one point the poems stopped coming. I wondered if the “run” was over and I grieved the loss. But I also waited to see. All these years I have worked on building trust and patience. When I am in the middle of a “shift” –physical, mental, emotional, spiritual—in the past I might stop writing…as if change is hard to do on the fly. “Sometimes you have to stop and take stock, be quiet enough to listen, raise a finger to the wind…” (see below)

And that was true this time. The writing began again and had changed. But the joy of expression, the trance feeling of time that disappeared, the joyfulness, that was back. So in celebration of two poetic decades here are poems inspired by, or that directly came out of songs by Krista Detor, including from her new CD, Barely. Usually it takes me some time to grow into loving a new CD of hers; the earlier ones had become such heart-favorites. But this time, I fell in love with these lush songs instantly. And my poems flowed out of her music. Listen for yourself.

10/6/15

From Krista’s New CD

The story behind
every song bright or dark
where it came from
where it is going
what life happened
what was chosen

combined with the lilt
and grace notes, the flexibility
the hope of conveying something
complex maybe or maybe
ultimately simple
just soak it in and do not worry
about the intention, let it be

what it is
without interpretation

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 2015

10/7/15

Krista

When you sing
there is a certain inevitability
as the words line up
and you remember.

Fingertips brushing the feathers
the pure church bells of notes
that soar and swoop
dance and turn expressing
unbidden emotion, drawing us in
to feel again.

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 2015

10/7/15

A Story True and Not True
Krista: The World is Water

Let me remove the stray thread
from the sleeve of your jacket.
It could have been white or black
no matter it doesn’t belong.
I pluck it off casually
and we keep walking along.
Listening to Krista before sleep—
it is not what I dream
but what I wake up from.

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 2015

Watching Sunset, Fish Creek, Wis., Copyright 2015 by MDMikus

Watching Sunset, Fish Creek, Wis., Copyright 2015 by MDMikus

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The rest of the poem from above, one of the early “signature” poems:

After Lisel Mueller

Sometimes
you have to stop

and take stock,
be quiet enough

to listen,
raise a finger

to the wind;
be still enough

to hear direction
even when heart

pounds in the darkness…
sometimes.

Sometimes
living life

is not writing,
but living,

not writing,
but waiting.

Sometimes
you must breathe out

before you can
breathe in again.

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 1999

From As Easy as Breathing

Clouds and Road, Door County. Copyright 2015 by MDMikus

Clouds and Road, Door County. Copyright 2015 by MDMikus

Unexpected Obituary

Spring Garden, Copyright 2007 MDMikus

Spring Garden, Copyright 2007 MDMikus

My husband and I belong to Folkstage on WFMT radio in Chicago. With other donor/ folk music enthusiasts we see up to 26 folk concerts a year, in an intimate setting. This group has become our main social connection. Recently a long-time Folkstage member passed away unexpectedly. For several days afterward I woke with this image in my head—a poem insisting on being written. I resisted. I did not really want to write more about loss, but in the end I trusted that impulse. This poem is about how those in our lives affect us in very real ways, even if we are unaware of it until they are gone. “This is the moment we have…”

6/7/15

Unexpected Obituary

Folkstage Family

Peter Clark
seems to be still standing
steadfast at the back
doing anything that was asked.

Or sitting in the front row
listening and taking photos,
next to him, Nancy, his wife,
partners in all their wide life.

I should tell you one small thing
that is, to me, revealing.
He was selling CDs as usual,
I was buying CDs to be signed.

I had not known him long,
we were not particular friends,
but he saw me struggling to open them
and immediately offered a solution—

a CD opener—he had more than one
from a Folk Alliance he’d just come from.
Not just to use once, but to keep,
a useful gift easily given.

We did not become close friends,
just many brief talks over the years
when I bought CDs or had a new book out
and he might tell me of his books, his travels,

not bragging, but justly proud of a job well done
that might be of use to someone.
And maybe now I’ve told you this
I can lay his ghost to rest.

I did not know so many things, like
how we shared the same birthday;
I learned more afterward on his Facebook page
than ever he said to me.

Now the stories are coming out
of generosity and thoughtful kindness,
a full life well-lived, a good man,
he will be missed.

And maybe now I’ve told you this
I can lay his ghost to rest.

Peter Clark at 73
as old as he will ever be
10 years ahead of me
as day by day inevitably
we all face our eternity.

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 2015

Exciting News

So excited to tell you! My book, “Thrown Again into the Frazzle Machine: Poems of Grace, Hope, and Healing” is a Finalist for a Midwest Book Award (In the Health category). Yay!

THROWN AGAIN into the FRAZZLE MACHINE: Poems of Grace, Hope, and Healing

I’m trying to decide if I should drive up to St. Paul, MN with my husband for the Awards Gala next month. It could be a fun spring outing, listening to an audio book, one of our favorite things to do. I won’t know the results ahead of time, so… cross your fingers for me.

Another 5 star review on Amazon.com:
“Normally, I don’t understand poetry, but maybe it’s because there has been no connection for me; but Margaret’s resonates and I feel what she felt when she wrote it. The illness and loss of a loved one, the appreciation for nature, and my own battle with cancer and surgeries, the similarities are striking a chord with me. I’m finding great comfort in these poems.” The Bear Lady