Hi, I’m Carie. I write daily posts about navigating these times.
Don’t you imagine (I just suggest it)
I’m always so excited for spring. But tonight I noticed peonies blooming, and peonies don’t bloom in Denver until WAY after I file my taxes on April 15 at 11:59 p.m.
This fair-weather loving human has much enjoyed our unusually warm winter and dry spring but it’s not sitting right in my soul.
The Journey by Mary Oliver
A long, long time ago, before I’d gone through hardships of my own, a dear friend told me that she went through a hardship at a young age so she could be a guide for those who face similar circumstances in the future. Now that I’ve been through my fair share, I see how true this is in my life, as well. Here’s a poem that once-upon-a-time saved me. Thankful for the wisdom and honesty of dear Mary Oliver.
Whistling Swans by Mary Oliver
Rumi said, There is no proof of the soul.
But isn’t the return of spring and how it
up in our hearts a pretty good hint?
💞
Gen X Poems for Valentine’s Day
Grandma Vi was a prolific artist. She made hundreds of quilts. She found a lot of inspiration in the Amish community. Once she gave my family a quilt and asked me to find the mistake. I couldn’t pick it out but once she did, it’s all I could see — one block was sideways. She told me that some Amish had a tradition to always make one mistake in their quilts because “only God was perfect.” I asked her if she made her mistake on purpose — she laughed and said NOPE!
I wrote these poems year ago. This “haiku” was my favorite. But I realize now that it’s not a Haiku. So yeah, only God is perfect. Ha!
More Mary Oliver
I was taught to pray as a kid. Then I got older. And I spent many, many years never uttering a prayer. I pray again, now. But it’s different.
This Mary Oliver poem — this line: May I never not be risqué.
Yes, please. ❤️☀️
Joy is not meant to be a crumb
Notice what’s good, too. If you can’t find anything good, focus on something neutral.
Enjoy this poem by Mary Oliver. It’s a favorite.
Everyone Needs More Rest (Three Acts)
It was a long work day. I’m exhausted. So I searched the old Google drive and found this. I do not think that I ever shared this, though I could be wrong.
Just this morning, I was thinking about how I feel like there’s very little that I know — less so with every passing moment. But this — this message of rest still holds true.
Above all, it made me feel something. Feeling is exactly what we’re all being asked to do.
Credit where credit is due
Thank God for all the miracles that allow me to live from this space.
For all who grieve
I keep this poem in my back pocket. For others, when I don’t know what to say. For myself, to remind me of just how dense grief truly is.
