Soul Tending

This week, I have had few words. I have felt such a deep sense of despair it borders on catatonia. I am tending to my soul, and doing all the right things to begin to heal the shock and disillusionment that have threatened to sink me, and so many of us. My time-tested way to deal with trauma is to seek out words to frame it. In framing it, I think I find a slight remove from the raw feeling. Many writers are following the same course, and many who I follow have offered me succor and sense. So I read, and move, and breathe, and stay in my body, and gather with friends, and write. Here I share a few writers with you who I have found especially helpful for dealing with fear and despair.

A compassionate counselor in an online Hillary group shared this excellent list of tips to help yourself with stress, if you are having trouble with extreme anxiety, if you are surrounded by abusive people, or if you are just still strung out about this election. Please visit the link if you need help. Take care of yourself.

Staying embodied is so very important, for all of us.

One of the wisest writers I know, Rebecca Solnit, has responded to this national trauma by making her book, Hope in the Darkness, available as a free e-book to download at this link. I have shared excerpts and sent paragraphs to friends when hopelessness overtakes them. It will hearten you, and help you see a way forward.

The powerful Alice Walker writes on the importance of studying and learning, now more than ever.

The wise and wonderful Joanna Macy writes of the Great Turning and the power of grassroots movements, one of the great social revolutions of our time. This offers some ideas to consider now.

I visit hecatedemeter, an eloquent and passionate blogger, when I need an infusion of searing truth and sometimes fiery anger. She never fails me, and just reading this made me feel a little better.

And finally, saying farewell to the bard Leonard Cohen. Brain Pickings is one of my favorite places to visit for wonderful writings about writing and reading. A sanctuary of sorts. The selection of his lyrics and musings about the creative process, including our “laboratory of democracy” is well worth a read.

Good writing is often a lifeline for me, and these writers have helped keep me afloat this week. I share them with you in the hope that it may also be so for you. Go well, stay well, and keep the faith, tribe.

p.s. The art above is a piece I made about a year ago; it is paper painted red, gilded and then inscribed with the words through the gold leaf. I regret now that I did not include the attribution, but it is from a Leonard Cohen song called Anthem. Full lyrics here, and many of his other songs. You could begin your study with just reading this brilliant writer’s lyrics.

The birds they sang 
at the break of day 
Start again 
I heard them say 
Don’t dwell on what 
has passed away 
or what is yet to be.Ah the wars they will 
be fought again 
The holy dove 
She will be caught again 
bought and sold 
and bought again 
the dove is never free.

Ring the bells that still can ring 
Forget your perfect offering 
There is a crack in everything 
That’s how the light gets in.

We asked for signs 
the signs were sent: 
the birth betrayed 
the marriage spent 
Yeah the widowhood 
of every government — 
signs for all to see.

I can’t run no more 
with that lawless crowd 
while the killers in high places 
say their prayers out loud. 
But they’ve summoned, they’ve summoned up 
a thundercloud 
and they’re going to hear from me.

Ring the bells that still can ring …

You can add up the parts 
but you won’t have the sum 
You can strike up the march, 
there is no drum 
Every heart, every heart 
to love will come 
but like a refugee.

Ring the bells that still can ring 
Forget your perfect offering 
There is a crack, a crack in everything 
That’s how the light gets in.

Ring the bells that still can ring 
Forget your perfect offering 
There is a crack, a crack in everything 
That’s how the light gets in. 
That’s how the light gets in. 
That’s how the light gets in.