Thoreau, the Bluebird and My Peace Lily

No IDEA of the © I apologize to the author, I grabbed this book in the store, seriously opened it to this EXACT page, was stunned, took a photo and put it back. Terrible, I know. So unlike me.

Henry David Thoreau once said, the bluebird carries the sky on his back. He stated these eight simple, yet existential words in a time when the world was unsullied by mankind's thoughtless destruction. 

Twenty-four hours a day, thankfully, birds surround me. My association with feathers, flight, birds, the sky, angels and wings is a part of my internal spiritual wiring that I do not even fully understand. 

That is, until yesterday. 

You see, right now I am supposed to be writing a social science research proposition. I just finished writing a 20-page, 5,000 word in depth study of the complete psychoanalysis of Adolf Hitler applying every personality theory to his identity. While I enjoy theoretical, mind numbing, yet intriguing studies, I am, at heart, a poet, a stream of consciousness being that speaks exactly like I write. I have to get my entire self into a separate place of existence in order to write scientifically and I cannot be disturbed, much like writing poetry or creating anything, really. 

Creation is a place where the mind checks out and the soul takes over. 

I am sitting here right now typing these words, but my mind is completely shut off, my brain is a mere filter for other dimensions of time and space. Thoughts travel, seamlessly from above, and settle for a millisecond in my autonomic nervous system, skate down my arms to my palms to my fingers to this keyboard and now, to you, reading this. 

Automatic. The only way to write. 

Mind you, when I have to focus my mind on more serious subject matters, I utilize the same process as above, it just takes a more centered version of me, not this wing-ed beat poet who is not even trying to write, yet, somehow is. 

Earlier, I finished a lovely course on plant communication conducted by Asia Suler, such a dear soul. She has her own apothecary and on video with tears in her eyes, she explained communion with plants. The reason she was crying was that intuitive messages we receive during communion with plants, often relate to ourselves. 

I have a peace lily over 19 years old and typically, they do not live that long. Mine was gifted to me by my now ex-husband when I was pregnant with my now almost 19 year old son. I remember that like yesterday. It was a time of innocence, of love, of security and wonder. 

Lately, the lilies are not blooming. This never occurred before. I tried everything to coax the blooming, and have a green thumb; however, nothing seemed to work. Today, after communing with the plant, as I often do with all of my plants, with anything living, especially in nature with trees, immediately I received: 

 
I feel neglected and I need sunshine.

Now I know why Asia had tears in her eyes.

Anyone that knows me even a tiny bit, understands I am all about self-love, self-care and being good to yourself first and that these things are not selfish, the opposite, quite radical and righteous. 

I mean that is what THIS is all about. 

After I spoke to my plant, I thought, Indeed. I DO feel neglected and yes, I DO need sunshine. 

So does my plant. 

I knelt before it on my knees in reverence, much like I do before a tree and nodded my head in recognition and slowly stood up, half bent over and took all of its precious green leaves in my palms from the stalk to the tips, swept them up towards the sky, and opened my heart wide. 

I saw, in my mind’s eye, the plant stepping INTO my heart chakra and gosh, that felt so loving. My chest grew warm and opened wide; I smiled and told the lily that I will move its spot in my home. Although I do not ignore it, I will take the time to pay more attention to it from now on. 

That goes for loving my own self better too. 

When you consider now, eight simple words, the bluebird carries the sky on his back; you first will see the obvious:

Majestic hues that adorn the back, side and head feathers of a bluebird that simulate something that has been painstakingly hand-painted.  The colors of the feathers mirror and reflect the colors of a clear, blue summer sky. 

Wondrous. 

I need you now to go deeper. It would be disrespectful to Thoreau if you did not. 

The bluebird carries the sky on his back.

Stare at those eight words without picturing the feathers of a bluebird. 

Imagine carrying the sky on your back. Imagine the celestial bodies, the stars, the clouds, the universe, the roiling sun, the heavens and atmosphere, the planets and cosmos, all that exists, up there, imagine carrying THAT on your back. 

Pretty heavy, I know. 

Well, we DO tend to carry skies on our backs and seldom do we pause to relieve that weight and somewhere along the lines society, family, relationships, educational institutions, and careers, have taught us it is selfish to get rid of that weight or in the very least, to sit down and relax. 

Can you do something for me right now? I seriously do not care what you are involved in at the moment, this is important, I swear. 

Just get rid of it. It is that easy. I did that this entire week before this new moon and I feel wonderful. Trust me, before today, I felt terrible. 

So, go ahead, what is making you sick? 

Got it? 
Okay, good. 

Now take care of it. 

You are not going to die.  

You are going to NOT feel the sky on your back. 

That one thing can be anything, a negative presence in your life, a relationship that does not serve you, or a dead-end job you desperately want to get out of.

It can be a decision you are mulling over, a task you are putting off, a messy house, a date, an appointment with a friend, or not so simply, it might be something you are keeping inside of yourself. 

Get rid of it. Finish the task. Start the task. Make the decision. End the negative presence. Take a walk. Listen to music. Smudge. Take a warm bath or shower. Eat a healthy meal. Exercise. Do yoga. Create. Buy yourself something nice. Meditate. Read a book. Get into nature. Write. Get help from a friend. Play an instrument. Hug your child, lover, parents, siblings, and pets. 

Do something. 

Life is in constant flux and is supposed to be. Change is good. If you cannot get rid of that one thing, whether it is an end or a beginning, my dear soul, the bluebird is a gracious creation but it most certainly does NOT carry the sky on its back. 

Weightless, it spreads its glorious wings and takes off seamlessly into the sky as the wingspan widens with a swift flutter of wings. You wish too that you could just close your eyes, spread your arms and take off into that ancient firmament. 

And you can.

 © Susan Marie 

Down in the Dirt - New Anthology

 

 

My Name Is Nobody: Down in the Dirt, published April 2018, is a new anthology that has published one of my poems, At Midnight. Scars Publications features in this full paperback volume fine poetry, prose, photography and short stories from authors all around the world. 

 

Since 2014 "Down in the Dirt" magazine is released every other month as a 6"x9" perfect-bound paperback book. There are 40 writers and artists included in this publication. 

 

 To view/purchase on Amazon

Amazon Author Page

 

Goodreads Author Page

 

 

Keep writing, keep submitting! 

 

A New Moon and the Promise of Spring

On > Poetry Inspired 

 

© Susan Marie 

You can listen to this being spoken on Soundcloud:

https://soundcloud.com/susan-marie/a-new-moon-and-the-promise-of-spring

" . . . and I heard trumpets sound across the Eastern skyline and tilted my chin, upward, to witness majestic cirrus constellations of sketches of ancient poetry of the pyramids scrolled upon the backs of my eyelids and felt my spirit shift between dimensions . . . "

 - Susan Marie

There comes a time in your life, not age, but life experience related, when you are one hundred percent, beyond any spectrum that requires defining; where you absolutely refuse to accept anything less than what your divine, beautiful soul needs and deserves. 

There are poets, philosophers, great thinkers and souls of our time; this human race, that have stated these things profoundly before. Yet, here I am to reiterate those things in a different fashion because I, too, am an awake, alive soul that wishes to continue forward and progressing, together. 

If the human race is not ready to come along with me on this rocky, well-trodden, lovely path, well, I simply continue to walk it alone. You see, you do not have to have anyone with you, although having another understand your mind, soul, and the scent of your very being is precious, quite priceless and rare, there are no requirements. I may add, however, my dear soul, please, do not wait for a hand to hold as you step lightly into this deep forest called life. 

Life is a strange and beauteous adventure.  One day I shall write a most distinguished book full of love and loss, horror and pain, heartbreak and healing, and absolute divinity, but for now, all I have are my fingers, palms, hands, heart, soul, mind and my words, on this day, in this moment. 

A lovely soul once wrote:

Ordinarily, I go to the woods alone, with not a single
friend, for they are all smilers and talkers and therefore
unsuitable.

I don’t really want to be witnessed talking to the catbirds
or hugging the old black oak tree. I have my way of
praying, as you no doubt have yours.

Besides, when I am alone I can become invisible. I can sit
on the top of a dune as motionless as an uprise of weeds,
until the foxes run by unconcerned. I can hear the almost
unhearable sound of the roses singing.

If you have ever gone to the woods with me, I must love
you very much.”

– Mary Oliver

Indeed.

People ask me to go into the woods with them and I do not decline due to the person, quite the opposite. When I am in nature, this is my church, my altar, my prayer, my being, and my rejuvenation and healing. This is where I talk to my ancestors, the great Gods, whoever they all are, and when I reconnect with my own being.

The trees, I hug, touch, and listen to what they have to tell me. Deer prance, stopping beside me, peering into my soul to see if I am indeed an animal just as they are or a human that is going to disturb their existence. The crows caw, flying overhead keeping watchful eye and the squirrels and ducks follow me, along with chipmunks and all of the glorious birds flitting among the plants and flora that convey secrets to my ever-accepting heart. 

I walk through woods, water, cemeteries, grassland and gravel, boulders and dirt, through and up ravines. I am one with the pulse of this land, of those before us. I am listening to my heart, beat, and my feet; they are roots pushing deep within fault lines of this planet. 

They step, ever so lightly, my feet, in a most blessed, sacred fashion upon the face of dear Mother Earth, one of mindfulness, the realization that I am walking upon hallowed ground. Father Sky greets me with sunshine and clouds, rain and grey skies, snowfall and flakes and as they fall upon my face, the rain and snow, my spirit is ignited, mythical and volcanic. 

If you were standing by me, it may appear that I am present in this world. You just might call my name and if I do not answer, know that I am peering at salamanders, holding in my hands rocks taken from the breast of great bodies of water and when I tilt my chin upwards know that I am speaking to that which created all of this. 

You see, my dear, the wind in my hair is the touch of a lover. 

People, we discard what is integral to our own existence, to this planet, to the continuation of the human race and more importantly, we are visitors here. I implore you to get into nature and simply be quiet. Open your eyes, look up and into limbs of trees, for they too, are your own arms. Crouch down low, watch bugs scramble about their day in the dirt, listen to the water for she has stories to tell and be humbled beyond comprehension when wildlife is present. Breathe into your powerful human lungs the very being of the essence of all things our feeble human brains can barely begin to comprehend. 

For those that have gone into nature with me know that I love you so very much. For those that have yet to go into nature with me, I look forward to introducing you to yourself. 

“I am restless.

This state of being greets me in times of immense change.

When I look out at the world, I see both technicolor and black and white, simultaneous.

A world I am fully conscious of, yet do not completely belong in.

Maybe I am impatient. Maybe I am growing more enlightened.

Maybe I am simply plain crazy.

All I am sure of is I must keep stepping forward." 

- Susan Marie 

 © Susan Marie