Category Archives: women

26–“Burning the Candle at Both Ends” from “Frazzle”

I suspect I’m not the only one with this recurring challenge: not just too little rest, but too much action, insufficient recharging stillness and reviving solitude. I forget that I love to sing…just for myself. I forget to breathe deeply, to laugh even.

“I am running out of candle
to burn at both ends

toward the ever-diminishing middle….”

Poem 26, “Burning the Candle at Both Ends” from my book, Thrown Again into the Frazzle Machine: Poems of Grace, Hope, and Healing. Listen here: https://youtu.be/0afvI8xIVOY

What is your biggest self-care challenge?

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20–“From the Stars” from “Frazzle”

What does it mean to be self-accepting, maybe even a smidge lighthearted about life’s journey? To quiet the inner critic and let things just be, even celebrate making it this far?

“…Every wrinkle
tells a story
of care or neglect.

Every scar a tale
of chance or choice,
guilt, healing, awareness, or regret….”

Poem 20, “From the Stars,” from Thrown Again into the Frazzle Machine: Poems of Grace, Hope, and Healing.  Listen to the entire poem here: https://youtu.be/VCVMWcqpVYQ

Are you willing to give yourself a bit more kindness, no matter all the rest? Say yes.

This poem also appeared in the literary journal, Willow Review (2013) and in Inspiring Story, in Belleruth Naparstek’s blog on www.healthjourneys.com (2009)

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16–“Pam” from “Frazzle”

I am grateful for the many gracious and generous people who came to my aid in my ongoing healing process. Some were in the medical realm. Some were family and friends, and some passed briefly through my life, perhaps delivering a few lines that gave hope or lifted me out of darkness.

It took me 9 months to assemble the poems from Thrown Again into the Frazzle Machine—what to leave in, what to take out, the editing, re-writing, and designing. Then, I thought of it as a “lifeboat through hard times,” poems to perhaps give voice to loss and offer comfort. Now, I mostly see all the help that came to me on the journey: the walks, music, inner guidance, books, nature, people…

My poems act as memory. This poem tells the story of a woman who helped me years ago. And refers to the previous poem about the gifts of remodeling—clearing away what is no longer serving. I am a saver. I have a hard time letting go things that once were dear to me. One way I’ve found is to take photographs, as many as I need. And then let them go. (It can also help to find a good home for certain things, as in this case.)

Listen to “Pam,” Poem 16 from Thrown Again into the Frazzle Machine: Poems of Grace, Hope, and Healing: https://youtu.be/DfovFAC842U

Does this poem bring anyone to mind from your own life? Perhaps you were the “Pam” for someone else?

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

14–“Scene: The Future” by Margaret Dubay Mikus

Some background:
In 2007 I was diagnosed with my third breast cancer tumor following a routine mammogram. Further testing showed I carry a BRCA 2 mutation, one of the genes which can lead to an increased risk of cancer. (My molecular genetics science-self found this to be a very interesting gene–as long as I didn’t think of it as affecting me.) I was stunned. This was 11 years after my previous cancer diagnosis and I thought I was done with all that.

It was summer. I sat on my garden swing in the back of the yard, to let the fear subside. I listened to my inner guidance and let the answer come to me…what to do? After gathering information and consulting with many people: doctors, family, dear friends, I decided to have the bilateral (double) mastectomy. Since I had so much radiation with the previous treatment, the tissue was very scarred and I did not to do reconstruction, a very personal choice. This is the kind of decision that jars you not just at the time, but later, when grief for what is lost can surface unexpectedly.

Writing continued to be essential to me during that time. Although not many of those poems have been published, my chapbook, New Year’s Eve Surgery, has a few poems I collected to give to my medical team. I needed them to know something about me—after all, they would be doing a very personal surgery and had not even met me beforehand. My sister had the idea for the entire medical team to sign my copy of the chapbook and they wrote me amazing healing notes of support. My poems changed the conversations from very medical and impersonal to very human and healing.

What insights came to you through medical experiences?

In Poem 14, “Scene: The Future,” from Thrown Again into the Frazzle Machine, I am thinking ahead to a future when cancer treatment may have changed a lot. Listen here: https://youtu.be/05q2-bgEpQo

Listen to more video poems from “Frazzle”

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

13–“The Crack Between” by Margaret Dubay Mikus

With our complex lives, sometimes there is only a tiny space to write, when inspiration insists. Here is a poem that came through that space one day. Poem 13, “The Crack Between,” from Thrown Again into the Frazzle Machine: Poems of Grace, Hope, and Healing:   https://youtu.be/35taG1fpLOo

When I first started writing my poetic journal 21 years ago, I had spiral notebooks stashed everywhere, so whenever a poem came to me I could write it down. I would even jump back out of bed at night…multiple times. I was intoxicated by the creative impulse. I knew if I waited, those specific compelling words would vanish and that poem would be gone.

After a point I realized I had to have some balance. I needed sleep, I had to pay attention driving, I had other responsibilities to myself and to family and friends. And so I made a decision to limit writing time (with a few exceptions). I don’t sit at my desk and spend a designated amount of hours each day. I write poems wherever I am when words come to me that intrigue, that seem to be leading to somewhere interesting. (Unlike ordinary thoughts, the opening lines of a poem seem “highlighted” in some way.) I still have notebooks in several places, but fewer. I rarely jump up from bed at night, though a poem may come out of a dream upon waking.

I consider these poems a divine gift, a sacred trust. And if I write something for someone, I try my best to get it to them. I hear the words and that is how I write them on the page, so that you can “hear” them too.

How do you find balance in your life between the inner and outer demands?

Listen to more video poems from Thrown Again into the Frazzle Machine