Letters from an Open Heart 11-23-09
Nov 24th, 2009 by Annie
I awakened last night
To the sound of Shakespeare and God
Arguing in my living room.
God won,
And now it’s been decided,
You
Are the most beautiful poem
Ever written.Doug Wilson
There is a vitality, a life force, an energy, a quickening that is translated through you into action, and because there is only one of you in all of time, this expression is unique. And if you block it, it will never exist through any other medium and it will be lost. The world will not have it. It is not your business to determine how good it is nor how valuable nor how it compares with other expressions. It is your business to keep it yours clearly and directly, to keep the channel open. You do not even have to believe in yourself or your work. You have to keep yourself open and aware to the urges that motivate you. Keep the channel open.
- Martha Graham
(This excerpt has been offered here before. And it will be offered again. We can’t forget this.)
Dear Fellow Travelers,
When I was 12 years old money was so tight that my parents used credit cards for the first time. I was only vaguely aware of what they were, but I could se the effect it had on my dad to carry such debt. It weighed on him heavily.
That summer my mom took a job doing laundry for a local camp and asked me to help. Two nights a week we heaved 30 huge bags of laundry in and out of the machines. It was hard hot work, but every so often change would fall out of pockets and into the bottom of the dryer. We scooped quarters, dimes and nickels up with glee and shouted “Jackpot!” when we found a dollar bill. Over the course of the summer we accumulated quite a pile of tips. As the found money accumulated, I wondered what mom would do with it. Maybe some new clothes, a trip, some fancy shoes? During our last night at the laundromat I asked her. She dug out the pile of money she had rolled and secured with a rubber band and said, “We’ve collected over a $1,000 dollars and I am going to give it to your dad as an anniversary present to pay off the credit card.”
Even at my young age, I was stunned by this act of generosity. My mom had spent more than half of her 43 years making sacrifices so that her seven kids could have school clothes and braces. Looking back I imagine that she probably daydreamed of the pretty things she could finally buy herself. A store bought dress to replace her handmade ones. A new pair of fancy shoes instead of her worn out practical ones. My guess is it wasn’t easy for her to give that gift.
I think it was easier for my dad to give like that. My mom was a very generous, kind, and good person. But being selfless and kind, being the good and loyal one was more like a calling for my dad. It was his way of serving. I was in my 30s before I discovered that there are as many ways to serve as there are people. Some people ignore the rest of us and create beautiful art that breaks our hearts open. Others speak the truth that liberates us despite egos that might be bruised. And others light us up with their dance and song even as they show up an hour late for a date. And some, like my mom, serve by living as brightly and fully as she possibly can. Ever since I can remember I recall people saying to me, “Your mom is amazing! She can do everything!” Some were threatened by that, others criticized her for showing off, but more often than not her joie de vivre inspired others to join in, sign up, get busy, speak out. At 75 she still shines with infectious vitality.
I know these two things for sure: It is not our place to judge the type of goodness we have to offer the world, it is our job to find the courage to offer it. If you don’t yet know what shape that goodness should take, begin the journey now. It is a precious jewel waiting to be discovered. Second, it is our duty to sometimes give beyond what we think we are capable of giving. Despite our inner protestations, that kind of giving expands us, makes us bigger, moves us beyond the fear of deprivation or of being seen as weak or subservient. It clears the way for us to be filled with Love, to be Love.
Blessings, gratitude and love to you,
Annie
Sorry, but I just gotta’ say one thing here. You wrote:” When I was 12 years old money was so tight that my parents used credit cards for the first time. I was only vaguely aware of what they were, but I could se the effect it had on my dad to carry such debt. It weighed on him heavily.” Seriously..? In 1977 you actually had to resort to credit cards??? Who the hell didn’t..?
Was this before, during or after that (rent-free) ENORMOUS on- campus beautiful Home/Mansion the O’Shaughnessy’s lived in during the school year(s), along with the GIANT FARMHOUSE (the one with the big red barn, you know the Summer house) up in Tuftonboro, NH that you guys owned and inhabited during the Summer months.
… Why do you feel compelled to portray yourself and your family as down and out? As some kind of hard luck case? Then or now..? YOU WEREN’T POOR..!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I’m really NOT trying to offend you or whatever. But you need to get real, man.
Hi Skip,
Well. I didn’t say we were poor. I said money was tight. I didn’t say we were down and out, I said the debt weighed heavily on my dad. These things were true. It was the odd situation of the school letting us live in this nice house while the salary they paid didn’t cover expenses. The house in NH was purchased for 10,000. It had no plumbing or electricity. All of us spent every summer fixing it up. It was the house we owned. The other house the school owned.
Things were less tight by the time I was 17 and met you. And things were never desperate. All I tried to communicate was that it caused tension that my mom worked hard to remedy.
i am not offended. Just a little weary of these offensive, defensive exchanges. I am not sure what they accomplish. I did not suffer in poverty and I never claimed to.
Annie,
You were born the 7th child into a fantastic family. Your desciption of your Mother above is wonderful and accurate. All of your Brothers and Sisters are astonishing..! They are all kind, fun, well adjusted college educated adults now. Your Father is one of the most impressive men I’ve ever met..!!!! So it is no wonder you have had it made your entire life. Your whole life you’ve been surrounded by love and intelligence… Financially, you have never had to go without. You’ve had it made, And you goddam well know it.
Why don’t you acknowledge that..? Most people would f**k**g kill for the opportunities you’ve enjoyed your whole life. Any hardship you may have experienced was (and I’m willing to bet on this) nothing more then bad judgement on your part… And probably short-lived.
Above, in your post you mention “…Others speak the truth that liberates us despite egos that might be bruised”… That’d be me, in this case, Annie.
So go out and celebrate your good fortune. Enjoy yourself.
As I recall, you used to be outstanding in that capacity.
I write to celebrate the gift of life and all its shades of light and dark. I am sorry you do not hear the gratitude I try to convey in everything i write. I am extremely blessed and grateful. I own my struggles. My experiences of darkness or stress are my own. As we know from the stories of humanity we hear and see every day, beneficial external circumstances do not often correlate to inner peace and happiness. We need to find our way there through whatever crooked path we can. It is clear that you believe you know the truth about my path, so let’s leave it at that. I for one, cannot say I know the truth about anyone’s path but my own.
- “I own my struggles. My experiences of darkness or stress are my own. As we know from the stories of humanity we hear and see every day, beneficial external circumstances do not often correlate to inner peace and happiness.” and “… We need to find our way there through whatever crooked path we can. It is clear that you believe…” etc.
You see, now, this is a (relatively) good example of what I call “The Oprah Affect”. Seems the whole World’s been transformed. We’ve become more juvenile as a culture. In America, we have, what, 70 MILLION hyper-sensitive “Baby Boomers” with our collective ears pressed to the ground listening for anything resembling some sort of slight directed our way. 70 million 40-60 year old twits spending all their time “looking inward” for answers or some damn thing. I don’t know. Maybe it isn’t my place, but…
Tell you one thing for sure. It’s difficult to be straight-ahead with people. Whatever, man. I aint changing my approach to nothin’.
Keep on keepin’ on with your approach Skip! Right on! Me too! We all have our own way in the world don’t we.
True that, baby.
And just so all your readers get one thing clear: This chick (Annie) will always be remembered as a blast.
… And, Annie. I dare you (or anyone else) to try denyin’ it.
Peace,
-S
Hi annie,
I loved reading this post, and the others on your site. The comments here were a little harder to read…
Like you, my father was a teacher. Like you, we lived in a big house - a big house that we all spent countless hours keeping up, and that drained my parents financially.
Like you, my mother worked thoughout my childhood to “make ends meet”, and they did meet, but it was not without taxing losses on all of us personally in one way or another.
Like so many people, there were secrets in my house that no one from the outside could have guessed, and it is a journey all itself to find my true path despite these issues.
As another person who could have been seen as “living the good life” when things were not always quite as perfect on the inside as they looked from the outside, I wonder why you take the time to defend yourself here on your own website to someone who obviously feels the need to knock you down publicly.
I love knowing of your journey and am so glad to have been part of a retreat with someone who has so much to offer and who is willing to share all of that with others.
I am filled with bliss after reading some of these poems. Butterflys roam about my vision. I seek guidance and I find it in the small pink flowers in the bed outfront. Life is short. Life is colorful. Life is cascading on the brink of short bursts of ok-ness….
I am awake and I can feel…therefore I am…