Writing exercise 1: I am resilient.

Reflecting on an experience of bouncing back


What happened?


How did I feel?


What helped me bounce back?


What would I like to remind myself about this so I can be most resilient?



One thought on “Writing exercise 1: I am resilient.

  1. Re-silient


    the worst
    that can happen is the exact opposite
    of one’s dream, that picture
    framed behind one’s forehead

    it might be a long shot,
    but the picture is large, high definition,
    framed behind tempered glass
    resistent to hurricane and earthquake.

    He would ultimately
    love me, the longing I felt
    stretched beyond any horizon in front
    or behind. A broad river
    with no ocean in sight.

    Anything, any part of myself
    could be, would be willingly
    laid down into that river
    sacrificed for the picture
    to come into focus:
    real, lived, touchable. Then

    one night, me in an upper college bunk,
    him in the lower one, having smuggled
    me in, when his roommate was away,
    he told me he could not decide

    what to desire
    and only desired other men.

    I snuck out, drove home 100 miles
    before he woke, went upstairs,
    just a word or two to my Mom,
    went back east and found,

    demonstrating against a war
    in the capital, that I could hardly speak.
    Shutting down, the picture
    without a home now

    was shutting down my brain.
    I phoned a friend with a remote cabin,
    asked her to leave me there.

    Occupied with November’s task
    of building fire, cooking food,
    keeping warm, and eating,
    not having to speak

    I realized I had spent my first 20 years
    grooming my intellect. My parents,
    teachers had combed it smooth.

    It was time to give as much attention
    to my heart, to my perceptions,
    my dreams that had misled me

    so badly. Back from the cabin
    I asked the only person I knew
    who was smart and happy

    if there was any connection
    between the way he was
    and his meditating.

    Looking up from his granola,
    he said, “Yes,” and resumed chewing.
    I started Transcendental Meditation

    reclaimed my emotional world,
    knitted my mind and heart together,
    found an oasis of calm

    good enough for any storm.

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