"Eucalyptus Rain"
Originally published March 2018.
“Eucalyptus Rain”
Thunder breaks bones
Of body from slumber
They wake to the call
Of the wind
From leaves that sing
To the rhythm of rain drops
In a song of praise
Once again
Receive the rain
As a gift they tell me
Will you come and join
In the dance
Run and get drenched
In the mother of life
Let her wrap you up
In her hands
Open your pores
And drink until fullness
Then let the rest fall
To the ground
This is the way
It has always been done
Make sure there’s enough
To go round
We share with all
To keep balance and peace
What is given will then
Be received
Do not forget
Man is not the only child
In this planet-sized
Family
Most of your kind
Don’t know how to stop growth
They consume and consume
Til they burst
Their eyes are blind
To consequense of greed
We need you to help
Lift the curse
But where, I ask,
Do I begin to speak
When no one will hear
Little me?
How do I sing
When the world has lost its green?
In what do I choose
To believe?
Surrounded by scars
Of clear cuts and dug ruts
In earth’s guts oh God
It’s not fair
How will we heal
All the trauma we’ve caused
To water and land
And the air?
My voice is lost
The rain is now mist
Take in a deep breath
All is vapor
Break in the storm
I sit and do not speak
And through the silence
A whisper
Why did you stop?
The dance continues on
Do not let your grief
Rob your joy
Don’t get wrapped up
In the shadows of death
For though they are vast
They’ll destroy
Grief is a gift
Hold it with open hands
It will guide you on
To the Way
Don’t stop at despair
For restoration calls
Do not let today
Go to waste
Where to speak now
Is the question you asked
But maybe that’s not
How to lead
Actions are words
More powerful than speech
All gardens begin
With a seed
The land knows how
To heal but you must listen
And learn to work
As a team
Give, and receive.
Receive, and give again.
Reciprocity
Mends our seams
But for now, dance
The table is open
Please come and join
In the feast
The rain won’t last long
So come on sing your song
And relish this moment
Of peace.
by Emily Dobberstein
Cheers to the Journey, and may your Spirit always reside in a state of Wonder.
I’ve had a few different meaningful conversations about depression this week with humans I love, and then On Being with Krista Tippett released some amazing interview archives on the topic of depression, which I devoured. My reflection from both of those things led to me writing some of my own language about what it feels like for me to experience depression in different seasons of my life. Depression, like many aspects of the human experience can only be pointed to with words. Words are never enough, but they’re at least a step toward naming what cannot fully be names, and that, I believe, is enough.
I wrote this poem on a particularly hard day of managing Seasonal Affective Disorder a few weeks ago. It is month 3 of 5 of the coldest and darkest months in the mountains, and I’m feeling it.
In case you didn’t read my last post, I spoke about a morning meditation that I have incorporated into my practice which has made a world of difference for me during this pandemic. It grounds me when I don’t know what to do with all of the endless possibilities and outcomes of what reality is now. It orients me toward hope when news headlines fill me with despair. It opens me up so that I have more room inside of myself to welcome and embrace this new and most unexpected reality that we find ourselves in. It reminds me to let go of yesterday, and to not worry so much about tomorrow, for today is all we have.
I wanted to make a post more explicitly about the meditation and provide some extra pandemic-specific reflections you can incorporate into each section as you read, meditate, contemplate, or pray through it.
In the midst of the most uncertain and confusing and challenging and chaotic time many of us around the entire world have ever experienced, I find myself reminded over and over again of the importance of ritual, of ceremony, of routines that we perform intentionally in order to name our emotions and orient ourselves around the values that keep us grounded in the midst of this roller coaster of emotion we didn’t ask to be on but are suddenly strapped into.
I’ve had a few different meaningful conversations about depression this week with humans I love, and then On Being with Krista Tippett released some amazing interview archives on the topic of depression, which I devoured. My reflection from both of those things led to me writing some of my own language about what it feels like for me to experience depression in different seasons of my life. Depression, like many aspects of the human experience can only be pointed to with words. Words are never enough, but they’re at least a step toward naming what cannot fully be names, and that, I believe, is enough.
I wrote this poem on a particularly hard day of managing Seasonal Affective Disorder a few weeks ago. It is month 3 of 5 of the coldest and darkest months in the mountains, and I’m feeling it.
It has taken me 9 days to finally find my grief...