deeply: one little word

©draft, Patricia J. Franz

i.
longing for deep

words that bite, bore
like an auger in search of bottom
gut punch, stomach contracts
curl of shoulder, torso collapse
frozen throat, breath trapped

lone moan escapes
the soul staggers away at death

 

iii.
to be alone

gazing at a word
like an art lover in a gallery
awash in vowels
tasting phonetics
touching the contour of a comma
to make sense
listening for the echo
in the spaces of a phrase

indulging a passive-aggressive
line break

ii.
longing to sit

still, in shock
words enter ears
take residence in empty space
circling slowly, slowly
a marble hugging the steep contour of my brain
descending to settle into my heart

then might I remember it
without a photo or google search

 

iv.
longing for stillness

savor a morning dark
under quilt, no glow of phone
hot coffee sits, bitter
between tongue and cheek
swallow before the burn
coat my throat, steep in my belly
no to-do list

mindful of sacred space
this moment
a poem conceived

So, who knew I would find spiritual reflection in OLW?

There goes the God-of-Surprises.

Between COVID and losing my brother-in-law to glioblastoma, the past couple of years has seen my Catholic faith practice crumple. My theological underpinnings are Ignatian. Years of spiritual direction, scripture study, and prayer point to desolation as probable cause — feeling like God is not present. 

I’m too much of a believer to believe God is not present. I’m the first person who would say this is my fault, not God’s. In my spiritual shorthand, God is right there, walking beside me, and waiting for me to look up. 

And lately, I’m sensing signs of a sort – internal stirrings – that tell me to pay attention.

One of these stirrings was stumbling upon Spiritual Thursdays, on one of Margaret’s Poetry Friday posts last month. Hmm… When I checked out the link, I made the quick decision to jump in. I signed up to host… in September. I figured it would give me plenty of time to read, observe, figure out what, if anything, I might contribute.

 

Then, 2022 wound down and I anticipated the call for one little words. I’ve never been a partaker in the past. I lean toward verbosity; how am I supposed to narrow down my intentions for the coming year to one word??

But I am nothing if not driven by goals and accountability. The best way accomplish something is to name it and then plot a plan.

Then, I noticed more stirring.

What I’ve missed most in my spiritual disarray is my prayer time. Time for listening and reflection. A recent Ezra Klein podcast (The Reading Mind Is a Gift) made me hyper-aware that I’ve become a skimmer, a scanner. When I took the time to think about this, I began to see the ripple effects in other areas of my life. Social media rewards the sound bite, the quick reply, the witty remark. Emojis replace words.  Texts instead of phone calls. For me, reading online – by phone, kindle, laptop – has become a dash through subject headlines, skimming paragraphs, scrolling to the summary.

Somewhere this year, I realized I had no words – because I have not absorbed anything. Like water on goose down, words land but roll away. I noticed in conversations with people, I was increasingly unable to share something I learned or read about – because I couldn’t remember the details.

So, I resolved as the year ended to address this. The first thing I committed to myself is to do more reading from a physical book (Klein talks with a UCLA researcher – who I cannot name because I can’t recall that detail!!), to reduce the amount of “eye-jumping” that scrolling on a screen enables. I also am committed to only reading an article or blog post slowly and in totality. Otherwise, I won’t read it. This has forced me to unsubscribe to the ridiculous number of things that find their way into my inbox. I figure I can help myself by reducing quantity, as well as increasing the quality of my reading time.

And then, I am committed to deep response. That means, making time to absorb what I read. And this extends naturally to deep listening. Before responding, I am committed to not interrupting, waiting for not just a pause, but a signal that the other person has completed their thought.

As I settled into resolutions and goals for 2023, I summarized it for myself:

Slow down.
Listen deeply.
Respond deeply.
Be intentional.

When I opened Margaret’s post this morning, I was not thinking of OLW as a spiritual endeavor on my part. But after reading the posts, absorbing your words, I sat down to reflect and see if there was something I wanted to say. The poem at the opening of this post spilled out of me.

And while my OLW is deeply, what I saw in the poem was the word longing.

 

My theology antennae were up. St. Ignatius wrote extensively in his Spiritual Exercises about longings and desires. Christian theology understands longing as a yearning for wholeness, a wholeness that will be incomplete in this life and that exists only in God.

Augustine wrote:
O God, you made us for yourself and our hearts are restless until they find their rest in you.

So, who knew I would find spiritual reflection in OLW?
There goes the God-of-Surprises.

I am beyond grateful to have been introduced to Spiritual Thursday by our host, Margaret at Reflections on the Teche.

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