“Anne: But have you ever noticed one encouraging thing about me, Marilla? I never make the same mistake twice.
Marilla: I don’t know as that’s much benefit when you’re always making new ones.”
— L.M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables
Anne was my childhood muse, inspiration, heroine and fed my potential. She allowed me to dream big and own my differences. I was a very contemplative, spiritual, studious girl, who had a rich inner world and wanted to ‘be free’to not meet traditional expectations — for instance — to be single instead of marrying young, to study in a different place with new people, places and things. To leave my safety net and live on the edge of my own understanding. To explore diverse ideas and self expressions. I spent twenty two years of my life in NYC doing just that . I failed and succeeded, learned and loved, and rose out of ashes and dust when it was necessary; as my heart broke open several times and reformed itself into the mosaic it is.
Lately I remind myself that these my life is not yet over. Each new mistake or failure is just a version of an evolving thing. I want to be present enough, mindful enough, — to live so many more stories. My inner Anne is still with me.
“let it go — the
smashed word broken
open vow or
the oath cracked length
wise — let it go it
was sworn to
let them go — the
truthful liars and
the false fair friends
and the boths and
neithers — you must let them go they
let all go — the
big small middling
tall bigger really
the biggest and all
things — let all go
so comes love”
Today I choose to let go of all that no longer serves me. To trust in the process of life and to do my very best, each moment to be a true instrument of life as I was placed here to be. Not all relationships are meant for the long haul. Every person we encounter is of value, there are lesson’s to be learned and gifts to offer. It is also okay to let go, to be free of constraints, expectations and things that no longer nourish our greatest good. I welcome warmth, love, grace, beauty and kindness. And so it is.
“I don’t get tired of you. Don’t grow weary
of being compassionate toward me!
All this thirst equipment
must surely be tired of me,
the water jar, the water carrier.
I have a thirsty fish in me
that can never find enough
of what it’s thirsty for!
Show me the way to the ocean!
Break these half-measures,
these small containers.
All this fantasy
Let my house be drowned in the wave
that rose last night in the courtyard
hidden in the center of my chest.
Joseph fell like the moon into my well.
The harvest I expected was washed away.
But no matter.
A fire has risen above my tombstone hat.
I don’t want learning, or dignity,
I want this music and this dawn
and the warmth of your cheek against mine.
The grief-armies assemble,
but I’m not going with them.
This is how it always is
when I finish a poem.
A great silence comes over me,
and I wonder why I ever thought
to use language.”
“The morning wind spreads its fresh smell.
We must get up and take that in.
That wind that lets us live.
Breathe before it’s gone.
Dance, when you’re broken open.
Dance, if you’ve torn the bandage off.
Dance in the middle of the fighting.
Dance in your blood.
Dance when you’re perfectly free.”
“I beg you, to have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and to try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language. Don’t search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point is to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer.”
— Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet