strongly worded letter
a passionate gust
Hey OhMyHeart Fam,
I hope this message finds you in a cozy, warm spot with your favourite drink in hand. Today, I'm diving into the depths of Andrea Gibson's thought-provoking poem from last week - something profound stirred within me. I was not alone in that, as I heard from so many of you how much you love their work, too!! Thank you.
Let's grab a metaphorical moment together and openly share my response.
Recap: The poem starts like this:
“I want you to tell me about every person you’ve ever been in love with.
Tell me why you loved them,
then tell me why they loved you…
Every person I've loved? – the ones whose memories linger most are collected through the colour of their eyes. For me, it's a mosaic of connections, some fleeting, some enduring, some nameless. It's about the feelings they ignited, the courage they brought into the world, and the lessons learned from those brief connections, sometimes too long, others not long enough.
And why did they love me? It could be kindness extended, the open door for honesty, that I desperately wanted to be loved or understanding the undeniable fact that we are all lovable.
It hit me more recently than ever before, and as time went on, I had let go of multiple addictions; I could taste the pain on the edge of my soul, just waiting to be acknowledged.
When I talk about "home" it's all about safety. My mom's name is Rita, but the eight-year-old me wouldn't know how to describe her or my bedroom furnished with auction items and crisp cotton goosedown duvets made by the Hudderite family we traded for grain. It's a small glimpse into a complicated history.
The first time hate weighed on me was in grade one, stumbling over words that made no sense on a page; I hated my brain for refusing to make it make sense. But literary hate no longer lingers beneath my bones; I relearned to read with Jolly Phonics, teaching my toddler to read when she was three and I was 27.
Cheek kisses are for anyone(with consent) if you want! And that is only the most perfectly planted kiss on the lips reserved for my dearest best friend, TK.
My anger is a passionate gust filled with sadness in a storm of clouds, and I am brave enough to get through the pain.
My first name was not a big deal, like many things. I took it, no questions asked. However, I reclaimed Kathleen at age 18. But have you ever thought about your mom's joy when she first spoke it? No.
“I want you to tell me all the ways you’ve been unkind.
Tell me all the ways you’ve been cruel…
I've been unkind in countless ways, especially to myself. I did not learn to say no and understand consent. My children and family have suffered. I don't know what will become of my children and their choices, but I do know I have perpetuated harm. I have made them feel unsafe in their bodies. I did not teach them boundaries, how to say no or how to take care of themselves. I chose my needs over theirs. I had expectations for my children and others to fulfill my emotional and physical needs without consent. I have abused myself, my family and others with my addictions, codependence and misuse of money, food, alcohol, drugs, sex and love. I did not learn how to protect myself or keep my family safe on numerous levels. I have compassion and forgiveness, and I can take responsibility for my part and see how many ways I have succeeded.
Virginity, miracles, parting seas – maybe not our everyday ponderings, but life's little miracles and how it has manifested? Now, that's something to celebrate. I see miracles in nature or hear them on my lover's lips, whispering how much I matter.
Have you ever felt the weight of just being you? Yes, it's a trip- I've faced myself, kneeling not before any temple but confronting the pain of my truth head-on.
“See, I wanna know if you believe in any god…
Some prayers have come true; even if I don't know who's listening, feeling heard is magic.
“I wanna know the first person who taught you your beauty
could ever be reflected on a lousy piece of glass….Mirror days – on good ones, I see a good person; on bad days, I know I'm not bad.
If enlightenment ever graces me, let's remember to laugh - PLEASE!! Bliss, for me, is wrapped up in laughter and joy. Of course, I've been a song, feeling the music's breath in my bones. More than what I do for a living, it's about finding that balance – giving and receiving.
I bleed through others' wounds; it is my job to hold your stories close. Humans, my heroes – everyone's got their superpower; I see it in my clients; it is a beautiful privilege. If life's a balloon that could pop, that'd be a deflated bummer – I see too much beauty here to stop.
So, my fellow soul-searchers connect and find the extraordinary in our everyday stories.
hugs and drugs,
Ps. Have you ever wondered about the origin story of Oh My Heart?
This song.
These Lyrics.
Oh My Heart, by REM
The kids have a new take, a new take on faith
Pick up the pieces, get carried away
I came home to a city half-erased
I came home to face what we faced
This place needs me here to start
This place is the beat of my heart
Oh, my heart
My wedding day.
