about a tiny light
by poet, dena parker duke
…healing is the best form of love your body brings to you. To simply weave your tissues and bones and heart back together is the most miraculous way to say I love you.
Join me in trying to tip the scales with more of the words we all are “dying to hear and longing to say” (see Prologue from In Your Bones).
i always had this tiny light inside.
It was dying to shine but was often flickering. There were times I couldn’t see or feel it at all, but I knew it was there so I started more consciously looking for it. In my journals, I would get glimpses of it so I started pulling words out of them that captured it. That little light never let me down, but it scared me. The more light I uncovered the more light there seemed to be, but the light was also harsh at times exposing so many blind spots. But that didn’t stop me from fanning the flames to bring more of it into all the dark corners that I was avoiding. In time my eyes adjusted until those spots were no longer so blind or, at least, unknown. They were exposed enough that they could breathe. And I found emboldened to keep going down the path because as I did there was also this other strange, growing, amazing feeling. It was that thing that happens when a wound gets exposed to light and air. It was healing. And healing is the best form of love your body brings to you. To simply weave your tissues and bones and heart back together is the most miraculous way to say I love you. And then I began to hear and see more light everywhere with such intensity that I wanted to share it. I wanted to do more of what Dostoevsky says, love “...every leaf, every ray of light…until thou come at last to love the whole world with a love that will then be all-embracing”.
healing started…
when I started to face the hardest stuff there was to face. It got messy before it got smoother. And, of course, it never happened in a straight line. But, coming face to face with what was ailing me was a turning point. I didn’t want to go there. I guess it’s the old adage that recognizing there is a problem is the first step in solving it. Circling around it I was avoiding the exact thing getting in the way. Robert Johnson says that refusing to own and appreciate our shadows can get us into real trouble, not just as individuals, but cultures, as well. He says we will “store up or accumulate” that which we disown and it can even show up as war, racial intolerance, chaos, and so on, in society, if we fail to address it. That chaos can end up inside us, too. He uses the parrot who quickly learns to curse because it feels and hears the energy behind those words as an example of how, without even noticing, we give power to them. We tend to parrot the words that hold the most power in our heads to play them on repeating loops. Of course, as negative as those words often are, they might themselves be masking the beautiful shadow we need to own--owning up to our true selves complete with our poignant sorrows and our empowering weaknesses. May we find new words to lead us to the truth of who we are with all our imperfections, no matter how painful, that will in turn lead us toward more acceptance of both the magnificent shadows and light that we carry. And may this be a place that “tips the scales toward the words we all deserve to say, to hear, and to remember” (see In Your Bones).
Life is short. Why not say your piece?
And sometimes you need a poem to say it best:
Advice to Travelers by Walker Gibson
A burro once, sent by express, His shipping ticket on his bridle,
Ate up his name and his address, And in some warehouse, standing idle,
He waited till he like to died. The moral hardly needs the showing:
Don’t keep things locked up deep inside- Say who you are and where you’re going.
I bet you're wondering how I managed to create a website all by myself, but the truth is I had a lot of help! A special thanks to Solkri Designs for help in creating and designing all the many parts of this site. Thanks to Meggan Laxalt Mackey and Studio M Publications & Design for help in designing In Your Bones (and later, Tiny Lights, When You Know, and Your Tiny Light) which is what sparked this whole idea. And great thanks to Hannah Gadsby for being brave enough to share her story, her way. She encouraged me to tell my story well, affirmed my belief in the need for anger in healing, and inspired me to push further into the light.
Thanks to the whole, and ever expanding, village!
Cover photos all obtained from Squarespace, Inc. and Unsplash.