Pam Bustin
creator, editor, story tender
Sequester my heart…Or not…
I love this quote from Jeanette Witherspoon’s The Passion: “Sequester my heart. Wherever love is, I want to be. I will follow it as surely as the land-locked salmon finds the sea.”
I love it except that, today, I got to thinking about the first line– about the idea of sequestering my heart. I don’t want to do that. Or at least not in the sense of hiding away or shutting myself off from things or people. Though sometimes, like this week, the urge to do so is strong strong upon me.
My writing and thinking and poking about online today took me towards something else. Towards the idea of using the energy of this love to move towards this world, instead of hiding away from things that seem hard.
So today I say no to sequestering my heart, but a hearty YES to the idea that wherever love is, I want to be. Not romantic love – but love for our fellow creatures, for this land, for this planet. Turning to love as opposed to hate. To bravery instead of fear. To caring and compassion instead of anger.
My friends are so wise and so wonderful.
My friend Wendy posted the most glorious thing on her facebook page the day after the election. I don’t feel right putting up her entire post, but I hope that she will glad for me to share a bit of her wisdom with you. She wrote:
You need to be you. You need to be you in goodness and “other” centric focus – for our sisters, our brothers, other species… the planet. As much as possible – YOU NEED TO BE LOVE.
…
I need to be. Every moment, every minute I can muster – I need to be thinking clearly, creatively responding and walk a better path – and I need to know that this little flicker of energy that is me and my approach, unwinds from me and trickles in [to the collective mass of energy – a Guf of sorts that houses all the opportunities out of which we can guide our future] – and I need to be okay with not getting the WINS or the PRIZES or the POWER, I need to be okay with actively doing something to balance the energy for all of us.
I love this and I take up the challenge to do likewise. With my work and in my daily round.
With everything I can muster.
And when I grow weary… I will replay the wise words from The Patchwork Grandmothers as offered up by my dear friend Andrea Menard it this wonderful video about Embracing What Is.
Hope you are all having a lovely weekend.
go easy ~p
With a love so vast and shattered…
I greet you from the other side
Of sorrow and despair
With a love so vast and shattered
It will reach you everywhere
And I sing this for the captain
Whose ship has not been built
For the mother in confusion
Her cradle still unfilled
For the heart with no companion
For the soul without a king
For the prima ballerina
Who cannot dance to anything
Through the days of shame that are coming
Through the nights of wild distress
Tho’ your promise count for nothing
You must keep it nonetheless
You must keep it for the captain
Whose ship has not been built
For the mother in confusion
Her cradle still unfilled
For the heart with no companion …
I greet you from the other side …
(Heart With No Companion – by Leonard Cohen)
And because today is also Remembrance Day here in Canada, here is Leonard Cohen reciting “In Flanders Fields” by John McCrae. He recorded this last year for Legion Magazine.
We lost another great artist today. Thank god he left us his words and music.
The Raggedy Man and I drove to town for the ceremony at the Legion. Home now and the fire is lit.
Be kind to each other.
Go easy~p
Everywhere is falling everywhere…
Yesterday, I spent some time with friends including the poet Rumi and the wonderful Marion Woodman (who I am just coming to know).
I found this poem – The New Rule by Rumi in a book that slipped into my hand yesterday as I wandered the aisles of the town library.
I did a small scribble yesterday, but found myself needing to spend time in the company of friends instead of alone with my own thoughts and words. So grateful for friendships–be the friends near or far away. Be they humans who actually KNOW me, or artists who shine so bright that I am drawn to their work.
I returned to the Writing Burrow this morning and continue to reach for words. They are my way through and I hope that, one day, some words of mine may comfort someone as much as I have been comforted by the words of others.
The book I found in the library yesterday is Bone by Marion Woodman. I look forward to spending time with her today.
Links to further reading (for myself):
Profile of Marion Woodman: http://www.thecanadianencyclopedia.ca/en/article/marion-woodman-profile/
Listening to Our Deepest Wisdom, Part One: The Soul’s Vulnerability (With Tami Simons from Sounds True): http://www.soundstrue.com/store/weeklywisdom/?page=single&category=IATE&episode=7041
Listening to Our Deepest Wisdom, Part Two: The Soul’s Vulnerability (With Tami Simons from Sounds True): http://www.soundstrue.com/store/weeklywisdom/?page=single&category=IATE&episode=7059
And a taste of Marion – for the curious…
Go easy~p
PS – For Nancy – who asked for the link to the webcam that is just up (or is it down) river from our shaky shack. Here ya go:
push back against the dark…
“Claim your space. Draw a circle of light around it. Push back against the dark. Don’t just survive. Celebrate.”
Working from this inspiration this morning, I realized (again) that this is what I do each day in The Scrib.
This practice of writing each morning has saved my life. I know this.
But I don’t often CELEBRATE it.
Or even acknowledge how important it is. In fact, I often denigrate it. Thinking that if only I worked 1/2 as many hours a week on “real writing work” I would be … what? So much farther …AHEAD?
Ahead of what?
Things I ponder.
Happy scribbling, all.
go easy ~p
Links:
Charles Frazier: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7130.Charles_Frazier
And a few old posts from me…
Last night, at one in the morning…
Last night, at one in the morning, we went down to the edge of the water to watch the beavers.
There were three of them. Momma Daddy and baby we assumed.
They had no fear of us. They carried on, though we may have disrupted their real activity. They come each night and work at carrying away all the branches that we’ve piled up – from the big poplar tree we had to cut down. They bit through our big extension cord. The one that runs the pump we use to water the garden and the grass and have our summer showers in river water warmed by it’s time in the hose under the sun.
The biggest one – the daddy beaver, I assume, was eating. Chewing the bark off of a branch out in the water.
The baby swam right up to the shore and walked almost out of the water looking right at us. At one point I said, “What if he comes and bites you?” and Mansel laughed.
The medium sized one stayed close, but not as close as the small and curious one.
They have no fear of us.
—-
I enjoy recording this.
It isn’t poetry or fiction or an essay. Not yet. It’s just a moment, on the shore, with my love.
I’m glad I went out to see them.
So often I just stay inside, where it is warm and the tv runs on and on and… I miss the wonder of this place.
I know that and I beat myself up about it.
No use in the beatings.
Better I should just do like I did last night. Finish my evening ablutions, put on my boots, take my beloved’s hand and walk to the edge of the water. Be outside with him in the dark.
For sooner than I can truly grasp / know / fathom… he could be gone from me and this place as well.
This is the moment.
Right here.
This is the place.
This is my life. And it is a wonder.
The stars were bright and when we got cold, we came back inside.
Have a great weekend ~p
on forgiveness… from the Water Protectors in North Dakota
I saw this video today on facebook and am out to share it as far and wide as I can.
Watching it… I wept and wept and wept.
These are women on the front lines. Protecting our water and all people.
Please…pass it on.
The info:
Forgiveness March to Morton County Police Station
Facebook Event here: https://www.facebook.com/events/1778920385700496/
A time for water protectors to relieve themselves
of the burdens of pain, bitterness and anger due
to traumatic experiences with police. Forgiveness
does not mean that what is happening is okay.
It means we choose to respond to hatred with love.
With this release we can then think clearly, act
constructively and truly serve Mitakue Oyas’in,
all our relatives.
We will walk from Legion Park, 1111 10th Av
SW, (along Heart River) to Morton County
Police Station in Mandan, ND. At that point
we will do a ceremony and ask for the ability
to forgive. All are invited. Prayer walk is 1.4
miles each way. Organizers have worked
with Mandan offices to protect and coordinate
this event.
Please no facial coverings, or picket signs for this part.
being seen… “It’s bigger on the inside.”
Romper, stomper, bomper boo.Tell me, tell me tell me do. Magic Mirror, tell me today, did all my friends have fun at play? I see Kathryn and Jennifer and Laura and Johnny, SisterCoyote and Judith and Bethani and Mary and Jalene and Kathleen and Robert and Anne and Mary Jo… And I see YOU, too.
Anybody out there remember Romper Room? I do. I especially remember sitting there at the end of the show when Miss Nancy picked up the Magic Mirror and looked out at alllllll the children who had gathered that morning to watch the show.
I’d press up as close as I could to the television without getting heck from my mother. I’d press up and sometimes I would wave but mostly I just hoped….and hoped…. and hoped that this would be the day that Miss Nancy saw me.
She never did.
I bet a lot of you have a similar story.
When I was grown and talking about Miss Nancy and her magic mirror with a pal, she said, “Did you ever write in?”
I didn’t know that writing in was part of the deal. You could write a letter and say hello and tell Miss Nancy your name and then… the Magic Mirror could see you.
I never flipped the switch by making CONTACT.
And, apparently, no other Pams did either. Heh heh.
As some of you know, I spend my Friday mornings over at The Oasis with Jennifer Louden and a great bunch of women (and men). Last week, Jen asked us to drop her a line on that week’s forum about How and When we Oasis.
I hadn’t been hanging out on the Oasis forums much for a few weeks and I was missing it. A big part of why I joined the Oasis and why I am playing this year in NaNoLand is that I really enjoy the feeling of being IN COMMUNITY – even if the community is online.
I decided to slip on down to the Oasis and respond to Jennifer’s request.
I wrote:
I Oasis each Friday from 10-11 AM. I like having a certain time that I come to the call each week. I’ve found that it is much easier for me to show up for things like – live calls / webinars / classes than it is to just… sit myself down to do the things that I KNOW will feed me.
Over the summer, I actually invented a 5 week class for myself, led by ME. Heh heh.
Each Wednesday from 7-8:30, I would retreat to my “writing burrow” (a wee trailer in the back yard), following a basic format much like the Oasis:
– a short meditation
– an invocation
– writing/drawing prompts
– a gratitude practice
– a closingI decided to gift The Oasis to myself this year as a way to strengthen this weekly practice IN COMMUNITY and with Jennifer.
Each Friday, I make a cup of tea and settle myself into the Oasis with a sense of being in a cozy cabin with you all — scribbling, giggling, and sometimes weeping together.
For the past few weeks, I haven’t spent much time on here online. But I want to drop in more often throughout the week. Just to keep in touch and strengthen this sense of community/connection that I so yearn for.
Thank you all for your beauty and wisdom.
Go easy~p
Each Oasis features a call/recording — that I experience as time spent with Jennifer and the rest of the gang. I love this time.
Jennifer started a new thing, last week, where she gave Shout Outs to members of the community who have posted on the forum. Things that tickle her, move her, members who might need some extra support in the coming week.
This morning….. I GOT A SHOUT OUT!
Can you believe it?
Jennifer talked about how she liked the image of all of us inside the Burrow together. That it made her think of Mary Poppins’ handbag – so much bigger on the inside…
I felt… so warm and wrapped round with love and then it REALLY REALLY did feel like everyone was here with me, sharing the warmth of the wood fire, sipping tea and coffee, meditating together. Ahhhhh. Lovely.
Even as I attempted to let the love ooze into my body, my brain-monster started yelling, “Well don’t get USED to it, Missy! Don’t go trying to garner attention all the time. That isn’t…nice.”
Sigh.
Throughout the call, Jen had us working through various writing prompts with the following in mind…
Knowing I am seen and loved for what I am…. [insert question to explore]
It was…. wonderful and thrilling for me.
I shan’t go on…I must go on… I shan’t go on… about it. Other than to say how grateful I am that I decided to give myself the gift of the Oasis this year.
As for my NaNoLand adventure today…. yes, it had to do with Romper Room and places that are “bigger on the inside.”
Some Fun Links:
Creating The Writing Burrow: https://pambustin.com/2013/07/04/creative-spaces-my-studio-trailer-revamp/
The Oasis: http://jenniferlouden.com/the-oasis/
A very cool blog by an Oasis compatriot who is on a two year motorcycle trip with her beloved: http://www.jalenecase.com/knowingourselves/
And last but not least… The Lovely Miss Nancy:
Have a great day everyone!
go easy ~p
in the room with the wallpaper…
Today I wrote a sad story.
About this fella (who I named Sam) and why he is alone…
…here in this room with the wallpaper that reminded him of home and his own beat down mother.
I wrote… a fragment… of Sam’s story today.
And spent some time with T.S. Eliot because I kept hearing a certain refrain….
The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/poems/detail/44212
Go easy~p
listening to frogs…
Hello helloo…
Yes – yesterday I saw a frog and she served as my inspiration for today’s entry in the notebook. It is a sprawling entry, playing about with various frog facts and musings on various frogs that have shown up in my life.
In the end, I reached towards a poem.
I still have a strange fear of poetry – my own, that is.
I took a class once with the wonderful poet, Louise Halfe. She called the class “Writing Through Fear.” It was a gooder and I met some great poets in that class. Since then, I’ve played with poetry now and again.
In my blunderings, I yearn for…. the conciseness of a good poem or a great song. The way of saying things that poets have – the STICK WITH YOU way.
Because part of what I want to do in the coming year is…share more of my work with folks, I offer up this raggedy gem.
I’m having a heck of a time getting the thing to SPACE properly in here, but after 1/2 hour of playing with the danged formatting…. I shall leave it be as it is. (take THAT perfectionist critic!)
~~o~~
Listening to Frogs
On the road today, I saw a large brown frog.
I crouched down to watch her move over the gravel
—quartz bits and granite pebbles—
through curling leaves and past a fallen spruce twig.
She was slow and heavy on her way to winter’s rest.
I wondered if she would burrow into the earth like the toad I used to visit in the Frozen Pond exhibit at the Natural History Museum in Regina.
Or if some rocks, a log or even a pile of leaf-litter might be enough for her to make her winter home.
Or was she trying to make her way down to the river
where she could dive to the bottom
where the water never fully turns to ice.
How much would she need—for shelter.
I’ve learned that some frogs survive the cold by upping the glucose in their organs.
The small amount of water in their bodies freezes but the glucose acts as a cryoprotectant and keeps large ice crystals from forming.
Imagine that. Being able to protect our vital bits from the cold times—with sweetness.
When I was twelve, I spent a summer with my auntie on the farm.
I remember—a freedom.
The first week, or maybe it was just the first few days,
I ran outside after drying the breakfast dishes and spent the morning wandering in the fields
and crouching on the edge of a small
ditch pond
just up the road.
There were frogs there and it seemed that I sat with them for hours. Listening.
That was before I realized (or remembered) that I should stay inside and help auntie with the chores.
That I was there to keep her company and to help her with the kids.
She had four by then, and all of them under five.
My uncle worked away, that year, on the rigs in Alberta.
It was their last summer on the farm.
Though I didn’t know that, then.
I snuck back to the pond a few times
in the afternoon, when auntie and the kids all fell asleep in the living room with the tv on.
But it wasn’t the same.
~~o~~
And now… it’s time to load up the laundry and head into town.
Have a great day~p
Places I read
some places i hang out
Pam Bustin 