It’s pouring rain here in Nashville - which seems fitting given all that is unraveling in our world these days. Especially in our own nation. I feel weary and tired. Hope in the possibilities of what could be, seems like a far distant ideal that I held in my own naive youth - when I believed that things could really change - could get better. I am sure that I didn’t think things could just get worse.

But I am older now, and I have seen a lot more life. I have to face up to the reality that money and greed and power are pretty powerful forces in our world.

So I am welcoming the rain. And the chance to mourn and weep with mother nature and to name out loud all that we have mislaid and lost.

Our civility. Our common decency. Our love for our earth and the creatures that inhabit it. Our willingness to put aside our own desires and wants if it could serve others better. Our inability to admit to all the damage that we continue to do because we simply want to stay dug in on our own sides, refusing to listen, refusing to change. Refusing to grow.

It is so much easier to be right - all the time - than to listen to anyone compassionately - to open our hearts to each another. Or at least that is what the culture, and politics, and 24 hour news cycles want me to believe.

And yet, I have this unwavering faith in the power of something bigger and greater. A force that tells me to never lose hope and to keep standing up in the face of injustice - to not be afraid. That the powers and principalities of this earth will one day be put in their rightful place. And the lowly will be lifted up and suffering will end - not just for me - but for every living creature on this planet.

Now, one could argue that this too appears naive. How can I put my faith and trust in something bigger and unseen? How can I hold fast to this truth when the world around me shows me how absolutely lost we are.

Well how could I not?

I may have lost my faith in the political powers that are supposed to care for this country and this world. I certainly don’t have any faith in the corporations that control all aspects of our lives. And there are many times when I lose faith in my fellow humans -especially when I listen to the ongoing horrors happening in Ukraine and watch innocent fourth graders gunned down because we just refuse to loosen our grip on guns in this country. But I have not lost faith in God, and the ability for God to change the course that we are on. And somehow - to redeem it all.

I recently started a poem about taking up space. It sprouted in my weekly examen group where I gather with a wise and creative group of women and listen to the invitation of spirit in our lives. I have been working on it a bit each day and wondering why it wanted to come into the world at this time - what exactly it was trying to say. And although I am not sure if it is really finished - the events over the past couple of weeks have shed some light on it’s purpose.

It is a poem about truth, and about taking up space. A poem about putting our foot down, and being true to ourselves.

And maybe it has something to say about what each of us can do in the face of so much brokenness.

I can’t tell you what that is for you (nor can the poem). And to be honest I am still exploring what that looks like for me. I wavier between building a home off grid and disappearing completely from public life, or staying true to who I am and the small offerings I can make to help alleviate the suffering of others. I am still on the fence.

I hope the poem finds you today and causes a rift in your heart. Because when our hearts are breaking we can better understand the suffering and pain of others. And we might just be willing to change.

Come back
into the shape
that you are

We can’t all be
circles and
triangles at
the same time

Or some shape
you held in
another life

There are times
when you
actually do
have to
draw a line
in the sand

No more
meandering
through the
streams of
delights

No longer
putting off
the inevitable
or the inefficient

Aren’t you
tired of someone
else
telling you
how to
do it

What shape
you get
to take

Telling you
how much
space you
get to hold

A wise
old crone
approaches
cockles and
branches
lodged
in her hair

She takes
your hand
breathes
on it
gives it
life

Traces a
shape
on the
tender
underbelly
of your palm

One
you recognize
as true and
perfectly
shaped like you

Unvarnished
she reminds
you that
some of
life is
unsolvable

Some
of life is
hard

Stop
trying to
fix it all

Stop trying
to fit into
shapes that
don’t fit you

We have
so little
control in
this world

So little time

So pick what’s
yours

Take up
space and
and make it
fit you
unapologetically

Face your
turning points

Don’t be afraid
to go backwards
or sideways

Say no

Fill in
all the
edges

Color it in
boldly

Truth
is costly

But oh
so damn
freeing.

©2022 Noelle C. Rollins