Good Bye Speech to Vermont Studio Center Fellowes

August 29, 2012

Cumulative wisdom of many lifetimes flows from one generation to another in waves of bloodline and breath, yet none of us arrive with full knowledge of how to get along in the world.  Even after many years experience we feel a certain humility about the tasks of autonomy and integration.  We wear an adult’s body, but never finish growing.  We never finish learning, and we never finish…at all.

Crescent Dragonwagon commented during a recent workshop, “We pass the anniversary of our death date once a year, but do not recognize the actual date as it passes.”  This gave me pause, and well it should!

We need goals, plans, and a strategy for our lives on this planet as vibrant and whole human beings.  Certain questions should occur in our minds, even if we cannot find the answers.  Spending time in nature, pondering the order of the insects, thr grasses, the mosses, and the birds aloft raises some questions that seem to be answered with  no words at all.  Indeed, some of our questions cannot be formed into words!

The essential thing about being a human being, to me, is retaining the child within.  We must hang on to a certain curiosity, a sense of wonder in the tiniest of events.  I know this is why I love to spend time with children.  The synergistic effect of pairing the young with the old is magic itself.  It is not illusion.  It is the very stuff of life.  There is not one guide, but two.  Not only one student, but a pair.

I was making up a song for my six year old grandson to encourage him to get out the door to kindergarten.  The first rhyming word was “start” and then “heart” and it deteriorated from there.  His reluctant and shocked giggles were my reward for taking a risk with his barely budding worldliness.  As he stood there with an enormous backpack above his spindly legs, his eyes widened I would use a naughty word in front of his mom.  It lifted both our hearts just before he faced the day.  For just that moment we were both six years old and in rebellion against the “BORING” world outside the door.

After school he joined us for a trip to the doctor’s office where his four week old sister was to receive a well baby exam, followed by an injection.  We told him about it, and as his mom undressed her, she began to fuss.  All at once big brother “lost it” and began to cry inconsolably because he had a keen awareness and deep empathy for what was coming.  I pulled him to my lap, and he sobbed into my chest for a few minutes.  I was stunned by his tenderness toward his sibling!  As for me, I was dry inside about the idea of a shot on my barely born grandchild.  Over the years I have built up a defense against caring about the pain, in my awareness of the prevention of illness.  But this safe position on my part does not ameliorate the great shock of pain coming to her for the very first time.  Brother James knew this was going to be rough and he allowed his feelings to surface.  I was so proud of him, and especially of the mother who reared such a loving boy.

Empathy for the other is one of the treasures we must never lose, never compromise.  If our children do not learn it, we will have losses in the grand scheme, I guarantee it.  We must keep ever green our capacity for the love, joy, fear, pain of others.  Without it we are empty husks.

I declare to you here and now, we should hold a coronation for every single baby born among us.  Each holds fresh surprises for a small world threatening to go dark.

Those qualified to say so urge us to stay on fire, to protect this inner child, to nourish the freshness.  A friend of mine cautioned me, “Never get angry when someone is rude to you.  It is just an empty boat.”  I asked her to explain.  She said, “if you were out on a pond in a boat, and an empty boat bumped into you, would you be angry?  No, you wouldn’t.  There are all kinds of people in the world, and many are ’empty boats’.  These are the children who have already flat-lined.  Once you see them for what they are, you will lose the anger, the ego.”

We can peer into the womb via the miracle of ultrasound, but not until the child is born and gazes curiously back at us will we fully understand the questions without words.  Astonished at our bounty, we exclaim silently, “Come stay with us.  let us comfort you, love you, and keep you safe.”

The child within you is ageless, sexless, and eternal.  You are absolutely unique and will never be replicated.  You ARE the miracle!  I am grateful we have spent this time together.

You Made Me a Grandma!

You Made Me a Grandma!  will take you to a story book I wrote for my granddaughter, Emma.

Storybird is an online collaboration between artists and writers.  You choose from ready to use art work, and compile pages of creative writing to go with it.  Once complete, you may order (very afford-ably) a single book to give as a gift, or even multiple copies.

I wrote one for each grandchild one Christmas, and they loved them.  Now I have had two more grandchildren, and need to do two more!

It is fun to play with the art, and come up with story lines.  Go there yourself and have some fun! a book