Category Archives: support

Honoring the Work of Women

We were married ten years before having kids. My husband finished law school at the University of Michigan and we moved to Chicago, where both of us had job opportunities. After working for a year at Children’s Memorial Hospital in immunology research, I was accepted at graduate school, earning my Ph.D in microbiology from the University of Chicago. My field was molecular genetics research (DNA cloning, studying gene regulation in yeast and fruit flies).

When our son was born we decided we wanted to raise our children ourselves. Since I earned less money, I was the logical one. After my maternity leave, we hired a wonderful woman to help and I worked part-time. When we built a house and moved out of Chicago, I stayed at home with two small children. It was an enormous shift in my life. I remember being very lonely at times, missing the intellectual part of my life. Slowly I made friends, often through the children (parents at pre-school or other activities). I ran the household and kept track of everything. My husband went off to work. We each had our roles. And we worked hard to keep a balance. Still, I collected no salary. And in a culture that values what brings in money, it can seem that “women’s work” is not valued.

Often this work is invisible, each thing done is so small, yet in the aggregate, the essential glue holding daily life together. It is easy for me to completely fill a day with these small tasks and yet feel no accomplishment. So many things are repeated over and over. Easy to get discouraged when it seems like nothing gets done. Often this work is unacknowledged or under-appreciated by others. So important then, for women to honor this work ourselves, to notice and value what we do, what we bring to our family. Crucial to see the whole of it, the big picture. Like a stone dropped on a still pond, gentle ripples go far out from the center and can affect things near and far.

1/30/01

Woman’s Worth

My worth as a woman,
as a human,
has nothing to do
with whether dust
collects on my floors
and everything to do with
my heart wide open,
my arms embracing.

Even that is as nothing.

My worth is in being—
whatever form I may take,
for how long or how deep,
how high, how steep the climb,
worth not earned, but given,
grace bestowed at first breath.

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 2001

2/21/03

Is It Enough?

In this house for fifteen years, just to begin the discussion,
not complaint, but observation…and,
yes, other things were done by others—
this is not about them.

Conservatively, five thousand times making the bed,
several hundred times changing the towels, washing,
drying, folding corner to corner, putting away.

Sorting mail 260 days per year—
let’s say some skipped, some holidays,
still then, totals at least three thousand.

Watering plants 600 times.
Diapering babies and baby laundry and kids sick at night
and late-night school projects—left to last minute.

Buying supplies in timely fashion,
planning for most every possible (likely) situation,
cleaning—some in spurts, not fanatically.

Is it enough that I see—and admire
all the complex steps of the daily dance
that I make all look so easy?

Clothes sorted, washed, dried (or hung) and folded,
returned to drawer or closet in one apparently smooth motion.
Our house is far from immaculate,

but still much to do to be just livable.
Sweeping when my eye or pride demands
the piles of onion skins, Kix, flour from pancakes

or dust fluffs grown large on kitchen floor.
Invisible work, only noticeable by its absence,
when clutter piles high, obscuring desk or counter,

when dust lays so thick a hand-print
is as obvious as a painting.

Appointments to be made and kept, bills paid and filed…

“Keeper of the memories…encourage, support,
listen, take care, stay connected to the earth…
do not drown in the sea of essential trivialities.”

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 2003

2/19/06

Shrinking Woman

If a woman’s worth
is measured by the cleanliness
of her house, then
the old woman was worthless.
But since that was a myth
she once swallowed whole,
she could take her place
among the elders
spending her remaining
precious grateful moments
doing something else.

What doors were once
open to her? What expectation
laid on thick and heavy?
What dreams might have been
drowned in the parade of seasons;
her life defined narrowly
as was the custom of her time,
ultimately wanting more for her daughters.
Now, waiting out her allotted time,
slowly shrinking as was her world.

She had never intended
to live so long
had never seen herself
as old, yet
here she is more than
three quarters of a century…
and still counting.

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 2006

8/8/06

Re-thinking

Where was it written
that a woman: mother or wife,
must absorb the darkness, the strife,
no salary, but as a measure of worth;
where is it written?

Where was it written that sacrifice
is required to satisfactorily
carry out those mostly chosen roles:
at any cost keep them safe, secure.
Where is it written?

Somewhere deep in me I feel better
if I take on the pain, the troubles,
even at expense of my health,
even if heart can hold no more.

I would rather suffer
than watch suffering;
I would rather be dark
than watch darkness engulf another,

a loved one, someone in my special care.
But yet,
this is not sustainable,
is harsh and unkind to my body-mind.

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 2006

3/4/08

Care of the Household

Some things done daily
some weekly or biweekly
some monthly, seasonal or annual

some every couple of years
and some rare, maybe every 10-30 years.
All important, necessary, even essential

and most…invisible…unless undone
each one not amounting to much
but in the aggregate…a mountain.

Sort mail, wash dishes, wipe off the table
clean the clutter, do the picking up
make the bed, check what needs to be checked

wash clothes and linens, drying, folding, put away
pay bills, resolve questions
clean air purifier filters

get ready for Stella to come and heavy-clean
arrange for window washing
get house painted and sump pump checked.

Listen for anything that sounds “off”
or smells “funny” or doesn’t look right:
the front sidewalk sinking and driveway sealed

the roof repaired, cedar shakes preserved
ants trapped, threatening bees exterminated
rooms painted, decorated or “freshened up”

clutter cleared and clutter cleared
curtains washed, plumbing repairs made or arranged.
Any little or big thing attended to

fast or slow all in the flow of days…
and the cycle keeps cycling without end
again…mostly invisible…these mountains

filling my minutes, hours, days, months, years.

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 2008

7/3/08

Treading Water

From something Lisa said about her mother

The daily tasks
consume so much

time, energy, attention:
mail, wash, picking up,

dirty dishes, bills, calls, emails
gardening, watering, following up,

making the bed, folding, putting away,
empty dehumidifier, check furnace filter….

Yet if done
as meditation

conscious of every breath,
gratitude for all I have:

loving family, beautiful home, nice clothes,
good food, pure water, abundant guidance, ready support.

Yes, then beyond
mere treading water:

transcendence!

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 2008

Long-Time Love Poems for Valentine’s

A few poems I wrote for my husband, my long-time love and inspiration. We met the first day of an English class at the University of Michigan on January 17, 1972. I was nineteen and he was twenty. I was a zoology major and he was an economics major, both of us stepping out. Who knew what lay ahead?

6/18/96

I Come Back

to your waiting arms
and put my ear
to your heart
and breathe
and feel safe.

From that supported space
I can explore
and risk
and grow,
knowing I can always go
back to your waiting arms.

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 1996

3/22/99

To Stephen

(approaching our twenty-fifth married year)

I used to have
all the time
in the world
to lay in your arms
and listen
to your heart beating.

Life went on,
but nothing more important
has come along.

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 1999

2/13/08

Mutually Lucky

When I told a bit of our story,
a 36 year long story,
Rich said you were lucky to have me,
and I felt we were mutually lucky.

When one would have left
the other held on
and when conflict arose
both worked toward resolution.

And when Alex asked me today
if we were getting special presents
I said “not to be corny—
for us every day is Valentines Day.”

And it’s true.
Thank you for going through
what we’ve been through.
I’m lucky to have you.

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 2008

3/22/08

A Summing Up

You are my weakness and strength,
my ballast in time of storm,
the wind that blows through
my occasionally stale room,

my love.

My joy, my delight,
and if we sometimes fight,
my joy again in rapprochement.
To be held and consoled,

to laugh with and discuss
the news of the day, with wit if
not always agreement.
To be myself as much as

I would reveal, yet not
feel exposed and vulnerable.
With you I am safe,
supported and protected,

held in the strong arms
of love, my love. How long
has this gone on?
Years and years and years,

my love.

You want me to have what I long for
and I want you to have what you desire,
and together, hand in hand, we find
the path through and to Love,

my love.

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 2008

5/29/08

New Mexico Vacation

What began with a coyote
walking across the high desert road
illuminated by our headlights
and ended with a gift box

of chocolate truffles given
at the last for our anniversary,
was filled to the top
with all manner of experience,

all forms of weather,
all levels of elevation.
One day easily melted into the next
with minimum of planning.

Love encircled us
and drew to us
beauty, peace, contentment, healing.
What was needed arrived…

with no fuss
and was embraced by us
with joy and ease
and awareness.

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 2008

7/26/08

Far Away, My Love

You feel so far away my love,
though you’ve only gone to Michigan

and I stayed here to rest.
I reach over to pat your head

though you are sleeping in another bed.
Your presence is here strong

and real as anything.
And though I long for touch or smile

I feel you across the miles
thinking, loving, being with family,

and I charge you, dear one
to also represent me.

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 2008

10/27/08

For You, Yet Again

(for my husband)

Some day you and I
will no longer exist in this form,
not just metamorphosis of aging:

wrinkles, gray hair, spots
where was pristine skin,
not raspy voice instead of mellow song,

but truly gone,
no hugs, no sparkle eyes, or smiles,
no encouragement or discussion of days events,

a photo as reminder two-dimensional,
what we loved as memento
of life well-lived.

Whatever we do next
the molecules of our bodies
will scatter in ultimate recycling.

What impressions our feet
have made on the earth
is all that will remain.

Yet I will talk to you
not needing words
and we will do as was agreed,

and if we stay together
or go our separate ways then
is no matter

for what was love
is always love
and that is that.

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 2008

“I Come Back” is found in my book, As Easy as Breathing, in my Life Support Cards ™ and on my CD, Full Blooming: Selections from a Poetic Journal (2007).

So Much Is Better, But…

Over the years, I’ve healed from a lot of medical stuff including eczema, MS, depression, breast cancer, heart arrhythmia, etc. I am now dealing with an umbilical (belly button) hernia. Twice it was repaired surgically. The repairs held, but then another area weakened with a hole larger than the previous one. Not good.

My approach to healing body-mind-emotions-spirit (all as one) is multi-faceted and practical. I have successfully done this kind of healing work for 15 years. In this case, I used healing energy (Reiki), acupressure, and affirmations from Louise Hay (Heal Your Body). For hernia: “My mind is gentle and harmonious. I love and approve of myself. I am free to be me.” Lovely and calming to say out loud, don’t you think?

I looked back to examine possible contributing factors, to root out the source of the problem, not just eliminate symptoms. As usual, I researched, meditated, consulted my inner wisdom, read, and found healing partners to help me. I consulted with Renee B., a digestive specialist recommended by three different people in one week. The Universe was speaking and finally I paid attention. Under the guidance of the very talented Dr. Lisa, (recommended by a friend) I took herbal and homeopathic supplements. I made changes in food, exercise, breathing, and attitude. I listened to guided imagery CDs by Belleruth Naparstek for heart and digestion. I monitored my blood pressure and worked on getting to bed earlier, my special bugaboo.

This was a lot to do; I was highly motivated. But a few days ago, an “Ah ha” moment. All this healing work is good. And now I need to be where I am, and stop looking backwards. To find the answer and the healing I seek, I need to flow with “The River.” In other words, let go and go forward.

In some sense, what this hernia feels like to me is being pregnant. So here is the poem (and the hope) that came out of that image.

2/11/09

Expecting

What am I pregnant with,
what is gestating obviously,
awaiting delivery or expression?

What metaphor allows the body
to be released from the bump,
the half bowling ball,

stuck out from my middle?
I refuse to believe
or even to entertain the possibility

that there is no meaning,
that peeling the onion layers
results in tears and release

but not healing.
All things are possible even if
not reasonable, not probable.

Over and over darkness
has come to and through me,
not like inevitable night follows day,

but dark like an eclipse of the sun,
dark like ash from a volcano
obliterating summer from the planet,

dark like an expanding black hole
that sucks in all light.
And to even remember sunrise

takes extreme effort of will
or patience or trust or faith.
And yet…every time

darkness lifts when
mysteriously the time is right,
and this miracle, this golden

egg is laid at my feet.

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 2009

I Am Willing

Sometimes I get discouraged; I work hard and don’t see any progress. What is success, anyway? A few years ago, I did a Google search of my full name (which is unique). I found that big parts of my work-life were online, unbeknownst to me a lot was happening. An article I wrote for The Reiki News on Reiki and breast cancer was at www.Reiki.org and had also been translated into Spanish. A Massachusetts man I did not know listed me as a poetry mentor. My graduate research paper in the journal, Genetics, was online and had been cited recently, and my book, As Easy as Breathing, was in a library in Oregon, etc.

A woman looking for a Lenten reflection, searched online for “I am willing” and picked up my poem, “I Am Willing” from my website. She resonated with it and put it on her spiritual blog. Amazing! Since that time the poem has traveled all over the world, including blogs in Germany, Italy, UK and USA. Another woman used each of the lines of the poem as writing prompts—an exercise to enhance self-awareness and personal growth. How cool is that! I can write something that helps people I never even meet.

Sometimes changes have been introduced into the poem. One version repeats lines from the beginning right before the closing line. Sometimes the original order of lines is preserved, but with fewer line breaks. Here is the original form of the poem, from my book, As Easy as Breathing: Reclaiming Power for Healing and Transformation—Poems, Letters and Inner Listening (revised in 2005).

I got an email from a woman in Hong Kong whose husband had MS asking if I had any advice for them. She had read about me in The South China Morning Post, a major Hong Kong newspaper! She sent me the article (which is now on www.FullBlooming.com). It turned out that I was the lead portion of an article on alternative healing! I have no idea how that came about. But it is another sweet reminder that things are happening even if I don’t know about them. And to keep on…

For me, the poem is most potent if read aloud. Try it and let me know.

6/26/96

I Am Willing

I am willing
to change what doesn’t work
for me in my life.

I am willing to listen
with an open heart,
without judging.

I am willing to plant seeds
that take a long time,
if ever, to grow.

I am willing to feel
and let go.

I am willing to make mistakes
and learn from them.

I am willing
to live in the present.

I am willing to forgive
and forget in my heart.

I am willing to love as much
as my endless spirit will allow.

I am willing to be seen
in all my radiance.

I am willing to be fearless.

I am willing to be powerful.

I am willing to be peaceful.

I am willing to stand tall
and walk gracefully.

I am willing to sing with my stunning, full voice.

I am willing to allow.

I am willing to let go.

I am willing to change.

I am willing to see
and be seen.

I am willing to hear
and be heard.

I am willing to feel
and be felt.

I am willing to heal
and be healed.

I am willing to love
and be loved.

I am willing
to be fully human.

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 1996

This poem was also included in Layers of Possibility: Healing Poetry from National Association for Poetry Therapy Members (2007), edited by Margot Van Sluytman.