A recent review of my first collection of poetry:
I listened to this book first on Audible and appreciated the tone and words… then I bought a copy (!) and earmark my favorites. I've read many of Elena’s poems more than twice (and listened many times); I find them soothing and concise. In her work, I find myself - so much so that I’ve begun writing my own poetry. -K.
Thank you for reading SOFTENING TIME, a newsletter on practice, learning and small transformations. Annual subscriptions are 20% off this month as I share pieces from my collection of poetry; all proceeds donated to causes related to feeding and educating women and children. This week, sharing a poem close to my heart.
When he sits down in front of me in a class I’m about to teach, a rare bout of shyness overtakes me, shaking my foundation.
His sister brings him to yoga class when he visits the city—she’s been a student forever. The minute I see him, I’m unexpectedly smitten. I look down at the floor for some respite from this surprising awkwardness, and there, in the grain of the wood in front of me where I’ve placed my attention for years, an infant boy’s face appears, looking markedly like this beautiful human in front of me.
I’ll never be able to explain this.
I look back up, yup, he’s still smiling at me. Kind words are exchanged; I realize I’m going to have to end the other cross-country fling I’ve been in.
We elope within two months, a quiet ceremony of five under a tree in Audubon Park, two weeks before a hurricane called Katrina will decimate New Orleans: None of our parents are there, our meager, unnecessary rebellion.
We dance our wedding night away in a blues bar by ourselves after dinner with two friends. The following year our son is born, same face I’d seen in the wood’s grain.
Early on, 2006.
Within three delicious, if slightly confusing years, we realize we’re meant to be friends, co-parents. Our divorce couldn’t be categorized as hard; after a few tough months, we receive solid guidance and manage to evolve with mutual respect, choosing lawyers who are also friends to save a few bucks.
And we’re much older now. Our friendship has emerged in earnest. I have a habit of sending him random baby pictures, he enjoys receiving them.
Downtown NYC, 2007, matching shirts. The joy.
He and James, my current partner of the last decade, turn out to be the brothers neither had growing up; they love one another and even say so, another magnificent gift from the universe.
And the lamp we’ve lit is heading to college in a handful of months.
This week, a visit with one of my dearest allies, my son’s Dad.
At our boy’s Bar Mitzvah, 2019; still dancing after all these years.
the lamp we’ve lit
Sitting across from you that day
over and over in my mind replaying it,
seeing his face the moment I see yours,
knowing and not knowing.
You come closer and breathe light into the most
unalterable connection of my life,
this daily unfolding of empathy,
knowing and not knowing.
We learn to live separately and together, still.
We turn corners together, still.
We hold each other, raising him together, still.
We find languages of support and lucidity, still.
Cooperative clarity grows,
bodies organize into knowing,
conscious infusions of care in shared dialogues,
spoken and unspoken.
This big, bright lamp we’ve lit
keeps elevating our tender, earnest dynamic.
Knowing. Not knowing.
Softening Time, p. 95
Anyone with whom you’ve learned, unexpectedly emerged with grace?
Tell us about them. These stories we need to share.
And a Gift
If you’d generously offer a review of Softening Time on your favorite book platform, copy and paste your words in the comments below. I’ll choose a winner to receive a signed copy of the book from me.
Annual subscriptions are 20% off this month as I share pieces from my collection of poetry; all proceeds donated to causes related to feeding and educating women and children. Subscribers have access to live gatherings, all archives, video and audio practices as well as our chat. If you have financial restriction, please reach out regarding scholarship subscriptions. You’re also invited to explore my books, courses and artwork.
The world needs much more of this kind of love. The kind that doesn't cling, but lives freely beside one another in a garden of beautiful offerings.
Beautiful! My "shared gift" is Daddy to 2 beautiful little girls now, and while the original connection lasted less than 3 years, it's evolved into a 30 year plus friendship. Thanks again!