Resolution

 

You don’t need a New Year resolution to change your life, I say.  

Prayer might work, but resolution rarely does.  

Yet:

The idea of the new year resolution always visits me this time of year.  I have sometimes ignored the habitual target setting.  This year, however, I wrote a poem about what I would like to change: my perfected procrastination.  My poem compares trying to change this habit to trying to fill a bucket with droplets of water.  Both are difficult to impossible.  But writing about it, I reasoned, might have some impact.  Later, I realized I didn’t like the poem except for one word, “ingrained.”  Here are the lines:

 

“Imagine changing
your dominant hand!
Habit is ingrained.”

Ingrained!  As if a person was a wooden board treated with an immoveable dye lot, a color like beet juice that just won’t let go.  My ingrained procrastination mostly pertains to writing.  With a paragraph now and then I treat the board, hoping to dilute the beet juice coloring.  I see no progress, but try again and again, a paragraph here, a page there, sometimes liking the page so much I imagine I see a lighter shade of beet in the wood.  Then I say to someone—anyone—I’m writing again! With two exclamation points.  I more than say it, I brag it, I delight in it, I imagine a whole book written, and me on a reading tour at bookshop after bookshop.  Of course, the next day I must needs go to the Post office and shopping, and when I sit down at the computer, I must do the wordle and crossword puzzle and words with friends, and before I know it, it’s time for The News Hour and Jeopardy, and then at 8pm it’s too late to start anything.  Tomorrow, I think.  I had such a good start yesterday.  But tomorrow comes and I am still ice skating on the frozen lake of achievement and self-admiration.  Procrastination plays tricks with my head, and I’m still ingrained with it, my wooden self is beet red.

 

 Tears in a Bucket

 

Catching my tears in 
a bucket, I laugh 
at imagining I could fill it

and then half smile at thinking
one day can ring change
with new year wonders.
 
As if we could wish 
away habit with 
impulse, as if we
could use magical 
words to invent new
and good beginnings.
 
Procrastination's
my pitiable
habit.  Though it is
not as tragic as
use of weapons, it
diminishes me.

Because habit is
easy, we think it's
simple to alter.
Imagine changing
your dominant hand!
Habit is ingrained.
 
Yet today is New
Year’s Day, another
day with another
chance to end habits—
the hard ones that play
over and over.
 
Would you rather fill
a bucket with tears?
I ask, then laugh and
grit my teeth with great
determination.
This time I may win.

Please respect my copyright.

© 2024 Susan L. Chast

December 7, 2021

 

Landback

"The movement goes beyond the transfer of deeds to include respecting Indigenous rights, preserving languages and traditions, and ensuring food sovereignty, housing, and clean air and water. Above all, it is a rallying cry for dismantling white supremacy and the harms of capitalism."

From FIX, November 2020:                                                    

"Returning the Land: Four Indigenous leaders share insights 

about the growing landback movement 

and what it means for the planet."

Last year I read Braiding Sweetgrass: INDIGENOUS WISDOM, SCIENTIFIC KNOWLEDGE AND THE TEACHINGS OF PLANTS  by Robin Wall Kimmerer, and since have been learning about the multiple contemporary realities of Indigenous people in North America, especially reading social histories of those who lived in places I have lived: Massachusetts, California, New York, Virginia, and Pennsylvania.   As Euro-Americans (we) requisitioned land and cut off indigenous use of it, we changed most of the names of cities, land formations and waterways.  We made no attempt to preserve the livelihood, customs, and culture of the displaced and disinherited people.  Indigenous stories reveal not only what we destroyed but what we might have learned from being better neighbors (I know that is an understatement).  Thank God and Earth alike that people from many tribes still exist to tell their stories and to salvage something from re-educated colonialists.  I'm grateful that I know a little more now than I would have known then.  Grateful that I am learning how to listen.

In the article quoted above, the idea and practices of "Landback" are held up to view.  In each case, note that action is underway but there is more to do.  I am impressed by how much of it would help solve the climate crisis we share.  I am not surprised that much of this work involves support for Black Lives Matter and others among BIPOC peoples, how much naturally accepts the many identities a person might have (intersectionality).

In Quaker meeting today, Pamela read aloud a page from A Lenape among the Quakers: The Life of Hannah Freeman by Dawn G. Marsh.  The author revealed Quaker complicity in Indigenous displacement--even sanctioning taking children from their parents for re-education.  As of yet, I cannot put words to how horrible this is/was.  Is it possible that we saved these people from a worst fate?  If only I could believe that.  Meanwhile, I begin to see why learning this and giving back seems so right to me.  

Also in Quaker Meeting today, Anschel pointed out that no secular word exists for the action of doing good, no name for the person except "do-gooder" which has negative connotations.*  "Benefactor" seems a patronizing word.  Altruist?  Humanitarian?  Volunteer?  Bleeding Heart?  Good Samaritan?  Helper?  When enough of us show up, we'll learn the word.  Maybe then we'll be neighbors engaged in "neighboring."

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* His source is "On Doing Good: The Quaker Experiment" by Gerald Jones.

Reparations, and other ways of working toward Justice, Peace, and Salvation

 

My Quaker Friends and I are beginning to think reparations, and finding ways to give back.  This does not have to do with guilt, but the fact of owning and earning things because they were taken from Native Americans and African Americans who did not have the same access to owner-ship and earning-ship that I have had.  In other words, quite literally, this is not mine, and if nothing more, it should be at least shared. 

For me it's a spiritual quest just to understand.  For example, I've been thinking of giving my house and its land back to the Lenni Lenape who live in this area, but I realize that I invested my money here so I could sell the house and use the money to move in to an "old folks' home."  I've actually been looking at them.  A residence costs the full value of my house up front, and I will have it to pay if I sell my house.  But should I have this option from stolen land?  Are there other ways of growing old and being cared for when a person (me) doesn't have children?  My Mom is still in her house at age 97, but my brother lives nearby.

You get the train of thought.  It's eye-opening to think of how I might/could live differently.  I've been actively contributing to African-American people in need, as well,  because  I can.  I don't have much, but what I have to spare will be better used by others.  I do not think of the money once it is out of my hands.  And few know about this activity of mine.  (Well, any readers here now know, but I think I only have three readers.)

What I discovered today is that everything I learn has a foundation in things I once knew and had forgotten.  Let me use "land-back" as an example.  I enjoyed 40 acres of woodland between the ages of 7 and 15, right outside my Grandmother's house.  I keep returning to trees as friends, and trees populate my poems.  Before I went to Graduate School in California, I was part of the Women's Encampment for a Future of Peace and Justice in Romulus, NY, near Lake Seneca, where we said no to the military industrial complex and nuclear bombs.  After Grad School, I was right back in the same area.  The Cayuga Nation land-claim lawsuit was heating up while I was teaching right there at Wells College in Aurora, NY.  I heard some people I worked with and created theatre with saying that if they were asked to leave their homes, they would sit on their porches with rifles.  I've heard since that the lawsuit was won, then lost.  I don't know where it is now.  Have any of these people asked the Cayuga Nation what it wants?

I am donating money to support Water Watchers trying to stop petroleum pipelines from destroying the crops and water of Indigenous land.  Donating to those who help elders survive through long winters by providing food and healing herbs and protein.  Showing up for Black Lives Matter whenever I can, and continuing to support Black efforts for justice and for healing in the face of prison systems and white body supremacy.  Thinking about how to live, now that I am retired on both pension and social security.  Examining how to help pass legislation that would help all people have homes, food, water, and healthcare.

Thinking about what's next. The life of our planet may be waning, but we'll all have more chance of survival if Indigenous and Black and Brown and women's and children's intelligences are finally in the mix.

There are friends, family, cultures we each know, and then there are those strange to each other.  But as Valerie Kaur says from her source in Sikh wisdom, there is no stranger, only those who do not yet know each other.  The work now is to get close enough to know and unite and move on to Just and Peaceful Days (Beloved community) in the many projects of healing, repairing, reparation-ing--you know--all of it.

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Helen Sedgwick: Editing as the Creative Process

Helen Sedgwick is the best teacher I have ever had! After watching this, I know why I didn't finish writing my novel. I'll let the panic subside--after 11 years, why panic? I never finished the first draft!! I've refined the first 160 pages over and over again without knowing the end. I'll slow down to enjoy. If it feels like work and not pleasure, I'll work on something else for a while. Love you, Helen! Thank you for reminding me that we are artists creating art.

Helen Sedgwick: 

Editing as the Creative Process

Streamed live on Oct 1, 2021, at:

Wigtown Book Festival 

(Copy from You-tube)

"The idea of editing is enough to fill some writers with dread – but Helen Sedgwick wants to change all that. As part of our series of events for writers, in this online seminar Helen will talk about the interplay between writing and editing in her own creative work, and how editing is an essential part of the creative development of her novels. Covering the different types of editing there are and looking at how the editing process feeds into structure, plot, character development and storytelling, she will dispel the common fear of edits and show how editing can be exciting, creative, and even liberating. With examples from her most recent novel, Where the Missing Gather, and her own experience as both author and literary editor, she will give you a fresh look at the process of editing your own work as the craft at the heart of creative writing. "About the author: Helen Sedgwick is the author of The Comet Seekers and The Growing Season, which was shortlisted for the Saltire Society Fiction Book of the Year in 2018. The opener to her Burrowhead Mysteries crime trilogy, When the Dead Come Calling, was published in 2020, followed by Where the Missing Gather in 2021. She has an MLitt in Creative Writing from Glasgow University and has won a Scottish Book Trust New Writers Award. She is the 2021 Dr Gavin Wallace Fellow. Before she became an author, she was a research physicist with a PhD in Physics from Edinburgh University. She lives in the Scottish Highlands."