The first Friday of each month, one of my Inklings writing group friends gives us a challenge. Well, Heidi gave us 12 prompts, one for each day of Yuletide. She sent it to each of us in a handmade mobile. I attached it to my December calendar page and left it there while Christmas and a family trip happened. Only yesterday, I decided to glue the prompts into the remaining pages of my 2023 notebook. The ultimate procrastination, I’m afraid. I’ve written one poem, so it is one poem you will read. This is probably not what Heidi intended when she put so much time and handwork into making our Yuletide prompt calendar.
Call Back the Dying Sun
Your rising beckons me to notice a stream of light overarching bare trees.
Your rising beckons me to be like you– a light for sight, beacon of joy.
Your rising beckons me to sense warmth even at a slant toward darkness– I rise, too.
Margaret Simon, draft
Morning sun on the porch of our mountain house in Georgia.
I am hosting today’s Spiritual Journey blog gathering. Add your links using Inlinkz at the end of this post. Welcome to 2024!
Every year I tangle with what word to choose for my One Little Word for the year. I’ve held this practice for years now, but I have to say the word I choose does not always serve me. I have a collection of word bracelets, and alternate them depending on my mood of the day. (Grace, Enough, Presence, Purpose, Embrace…)
Last year I chose the word Purpose. At the time, I didn’t have a clue what a turbulent health event was waiting for me. Now that I am fully through and back to myself, I still can’t find purpose in it. My priest told me that God wanted me to come to a full stop. I somehow needed that. Really? I don’t believe it yet. I still carry anger about what happened to me. I could gloss it up here for social media, but the fact remains, I’m not OK with thinking that God somehow was involved in the medical failure. God doesn’t fail. God sits with you in all things. God was with me even when I could not pray. Presence (not purpose) was what I felt.
I’ve been getting messages about the word Connect. I have a new calendar by Nikki McClure that is titled Connect. When I wrote a poem yesterday for This Photo Wants to be a Poem, connect was my last word. I understand that the reason I write this blog is to connect.
However, last night when I started working on a graphic in Canva, many of the images that came up were mechanical, technical, not at all about human connection. My mind turned on a dime to what I think I truly wish for myself and for the world: Peace.
For these last days of my school break, I have spent some time next to the fireplace noticing how fire can be a comfort as well as a destroyer. Maybe I will be gutted by Peace as I was with Purpose. Who knows what 2024 holds for me? I’m ready to be present for all of it. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, right? I know I have strength to make it through.
My hope is for Peace, peace of mind, peace of soul, peace of presence. Peace, my friends.
Instead of Christmas presents, we gave our children and their families a house in the Appalachian mountains of North Georgia. This is a view of the house from the lake below. I don’t think I could have picked a more perfect spot. Today it becomes an image for inspiration. You may focus on the green moss on the log, the act of looking up, or the idea of a perfect place to rest. Happy New Year! I hope it brings you joy and renewal.
I am still ruminating on my One Little Word for 2024. It may or may not be the word at the end of this poem. I’ve been having fun playing with the elfchen (elevenie) form. The basis is 1 word, 2 words, 3 words, 4 words, 1 word. The magic of the form seems to happen when writing about the first word leads to a conclusion in the last word.
Tomorrow I will host Spiritual Thursday. We are writing about our One Little Word choices. Please join us.
Mountain House
Wood chopped, stacked the fire pit where secrets are shared– Connection
Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.
This new year has come in quiet, restful, on tender feet. Twenty Twenty Four has a nice sound to it.
My family has been talking a lot about the Enneagram. On the long drive to and from North Georgia, we listened to The Enneagram Journey with Suzanne Stabile. My husband and I were riding with our middle daughter and her 4 year old son. Enneagram language has now entered our family talk. It has transformed the way I speak to and about my daughters. And now, after 12 or so hours of instruction, my husband and I speak about it as well. It is an amazing tool toward empathy and understanding.
I subscribe to an Enneathought of the Day. This little short piece of advice is helpful in keeping me healthy in my ever present mind. I am a four which means my orientation to time is the past. I can get stuck in my feelings about things. My work toward a more healthy way of being is to be present.
I am still working on my One Little Word for this year. Come back on Spiritual Thursday for that post. (And certainly if you are a blogger and want to write with us, you can join with Inlinkz on Thursday.)
Today’s Enneathought teaching “Health is a measure of our capacity to be present.” I think this teaching is valuable to all of us. Here is my reflection:
Health is the Measure of our Capacity to be Present
Present to the muse inside. Waiting with stillness. Open to longing all the while content with its Begging of me To do something courageous. Get out of my head. Put on my walking shoes. Say hello to the morning light. That is all that is required.
Margaret Simon
Amicalola Falls, Georgia (photo by Margaret Simon)
I wasn’t planning to post for Poetry Friday today, but I’ve been playing with the elchen form (also known as elevenie), a challenge from the Poetry Sisters. Mary Lee shared the Wikipedia definition of the form. I wrote one last week for This Photo Wants to be a Poem.
While my family has been vacationing in the mountains of North Georgia, coincidentally the words of the day in my email inbox have worked for elchen play.
slippers warm toes on cold mornings this winter’s saving grace hygge*
Word of the day: hygge- A quality of coziness and comfortable conviviality that engenders a feeling of contentment or well-being (regarded as a defining characteristic of Danish culture).
Pack suitcase, car drive all day family voyage to mountains viator*
*Word of the Day 12/26/23 Viator traveler, wayfarer
Light still shines in your eyes sea glass blue joy luminaria*
*Luminaria is a lantern typically used at Christmas.
Leo (5), Mamere, Stella (3), Thomas (4)
Wayward wanders hopeful small mountain town ice cream with sprinkles gallivant*
*Word of the Day 12/29/23 Gallivant: Go around from one place to another in the pursuit of pleasure or entertainment.
Today’s photo is a sign of the season, a lit up Christmas tree yard decoration in my neighborhood. I’m an early morning walker and the combination of the darkness and the cold drew my eye to this yard filled with lights. I know the couple who live there, so I was also comforted by their presence, too, inwardly thanking them for this photo opp.
Moss tree with twinkle lights by Margaret Simon
Recently I learned about a new-to-me poetry form, elfchen, from Mary Lee. It’s a fun form to play with, similar to a cinquain, yet each line answers a question. Another word for this form is the elevenie. Being a fan of the number 11 (my birthday and my father’s fall on the 11th), I wanted to give the form a test run.
Row
Words
Content
1
1
A thought, an object, a colour, a smell or the like
2
2
What does the word from the first row do?
3
3
Where or how is the word of row 1?
4
4
What do you mean?
5
1
Conclusion: What results from all this? What is the outcome?
From Wikipedia
Moss Ghost Tree
lights colorfully twinkle brighten winter’s darkness with a firefly-tree delight
Margaret Simon, draft
How are you handling this winter’s solstice? Do you put up lights in your yard? Take this invitation to write about your own traditions for this time of year. Leave a small poem in the comments and encourage other writers with your responses. Thanks for your dedication to this weekly practice.
I will not be posting next Wednesday. I’m taking a family trip to North Georgia. This Photo will be back in the New Year. Have a Happy Holiday!
The yearly holiday poem swap is organized by Tabatha Yeatts. She graciously matches poet to poet. This year my exchange was with Sally Murphy , children’s book author living in Australia.
Imagine my surprise when shortly after Thanksgiving break, full of family and food with little time to think about poetry, I received Sally’s adorable verse novel Queen Narelle. Narelle is a queenly cat. I have one of those. Her name is Fancy which fits her well. I immediately connected with Narelle and Maddie, her girl.
Then there were cute koala sticky notes. And her card to me was a poem “My Country” by Dorothea MacKellar (1885-1968) that begins “The love of field and coppice” and ends with “My homing thoughts will fly.” Such a beautiful ode to Australia. You can read about Dorothea and see the handwritten poem here.
Sally’s poem for me:
Margaret
She notices beauty even in the dark. Shares it to spread joy or moments of peace or a reminder to breathe be still reflect. Purposefully nurturing herself nurturing me nurturing the world.
Sally Murphy
I hold this sweet poem in my hands and feel grateful for being seen in such a loving way. I wanted to respond to Sally by seeing her. I had not put together anything for her yet, so I took a look at her Instagram and found a post about how she could not close the cupboard for all the to-be-read books inside. She called it an “inevitable bookavalanche.”
For Sally
I found you under a book avalanche where you were happily absorbing word upon words story upon stories filling your cupboard with timeless treasures.
Margaret Simon
Poetry Friday is hosted this week by Janice Scully at Salt City Verse.
Visit this link to WhisperShout magazine to read two of my students’ poems. Thanks, Heidi for selecting them for Issue #12.
Kim Douillard lives near San Diego, California. She teaches first graders using art and writing. I’m sure she is a kid at heart after I saw this image on Instagram. A beach snowman? Muddy monster? With a stick as a nose and seashell eyes, I found it/him/her engaging. Today I will introduce Cousin It to my students and hope their imaginations will ignite and find a poem. Where does your imagination go? Write a small poem and share it in the comments. We are a caring community of writers. Respond to others with encouraging words.
I gave myself the challenge of writing a triolet this morning. I find that working in form can draw out something new, maybe even weird, that’s been buried under the surface of my judgement.
Champion
In the shape of soil and mud lives a creature of the night who transforms as we should from a shape of soil and mud to survivors of the flood holding roots in hope of flight we bear the shape of soil and mud living creatures day and night.
Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.
Maybe there comes a point in the Alzheimer’s journey as in any journey of life, a time when we have accepted the new normal. I thought I had accepted it, come to an unemotional understanding of who my mother is now. We made the 4+ hour trip on Saturday. My brother, a saint in my book, brought Mom to lunch with all of us, my husband and me, my daughter and her 3 year-old daughter, and my sister. The table was alive with conversation, all except Mom who sat patiently as Hunter ordered for her, cut her food, and asked her if she liked it. She was content. But she never spoke.
There was a time not too long ago when she would try to be a part of the conversation. Her words would come in and leave off. Like the thought that created them had shorted out, the energy waned. This time, only a month or so later, she doesn’t even try anymore. Her silence was loud to me.
On Sunday morning, my husband helped me get her to church. It wasn’t easy, but we did it. I sat holding Mom for the service. She fell asleep a few times, but when the organ played, she jerked awake and listened, sometimes singing along. She can still read the hymns and her voice is as beautiful as ever. I told her so in her ear, and she turned and smiled, “Thank you.”
Another time during the service, she turned to me and said, “I miss…” I’m not sure who she was missing, my father, my brother, or one of her favorite priests. For a moment, she was present and missing someone.
We brought her back to her memory care home. She was whisked away by the kind receptionist. I turned away in tears. Every time I visit, it gets harder to leave.
Here is a photo of her holding up a tacky Christmas sweater that my daughter gave to her. She follows directions well, “Hold it up and smile.”
I am grateful for so many things: My brother who deals with all of my mother’s needs, my mother’s contentedness, her amazing care, and the sparkle in her blue eyes. Grief is with me always. I will learn to hold its hand and feel its softness. Someone once said that deep grief comes from deep love.
My mother, Dot Gibson, with her tacky Christmas sweater. “It’s pretty.”
It is time to sign up for hosting Spiritual Journey in 2024. We post on the first Thursday of the month. If you would like to host our round-up one month, please fill in this Google Sheet. Email me if you would like more information before signing up. (margaretsmn at gmail.com)
Spiritual Journey gathering is hosted by Jone MacCulloch today.
The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.
John 1:5 New International Version
Three Trees by John Gibson
My father, John Gibson, often talked about the chiaroscuro (play of light and dark) in his art as it symbolized a belief he held dear, that Jesus came to be the light of the world. He would have been 90 on Nov. 11th. I miss him everyday.
Jone asked us these questions to ponder for our December spiritual journey posts:
How do you honor/embrace this time of darkness? Where do you find the points of light in your life? In a few weeks, winter solstice will be here, how do you honor this and Christmas? How do you use this time of year for self-reflection?
My father-in-law was born on the Winter Solstice, so for the years he was alive, we celebrated this day. Since his death in 2004, we have not gathered as a family for Winter Solstice…until this year. Baby June Margaret was born last year on Dec. 21st. The labor was long for my youngest daughter after she was induced on Dec. 20th. Of course, we wanted her to progress quickly and have the baby before midnight; however, June had other plans. She pushed her way into our world in the earliest hours of Dec. 21st, Papa’s birthday and Winter Solstice Day. This year our family will gather on the 16th to celebrate her first birthday.
In Anderson Cooper’s interview of President Biden for his podcast “All There Is” (which I highly recommend), they speak about the strength of family and how the light of children in your life keep you going when there is loss.
June is our light. She reminds me of my Purpose (My 2023 One Little Word). Being a grandmother has given me new life, new light, new purpose. I’m no longer looking to move upward in my career or to go to school for further degrees. I’ve put in many hours of professional development. I am the teacher I am, but the greatest joy in my life is being grandmother to Leo, Stella, Thomas, and June. I wish my father-in-law was here to meet them. I wish my father could admire them. I wish my mother could remember their names. But despite this grief for what isn’t, I rejoice in what is. The light meets the darkness and overcomes it.
June at 11 months can stand with one hand and wave with the other.
It is time to sign up for hosting Spiritual Journey in 2024. We post on the first Thursday of the month. If you would like to host our round-up one month, please fill in this Google Sheet. Email me if you would like more information before signing up. (margaretsmn at gmail.com)
Margaret Simon lives on the Bayou Teche in New Iberia, Louisiana. She is a retired elementary gifted teacher who writes poetry and children's books. Welcome to a space of peace, poetry, and personal reflection. Walk in kindness.
Reflections on the Teche 