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6:41 AM ~ poem
In this early morning, break-of-a-new day light
In this cooling, new-day air
I could live
forever.
(c) poem and photo credit – Jessan Dunn Otis|Writer – August 30, 2016
6:41 AM ~ poem
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Tag Archives: gratitude
The Day After Thanksgiving 2015 – essay
The Day After Thanksgiving 2015 – essay
Today is Friday, November 27, 2015 – the day after Thanksgiving. Yesterday was a quiet, thank-filled, beautiful day.
As usual, I was up early – before sunrise. Quiet time. Focus. Reflect.
Bright sun. Dry, crisp Rhode Island air. Telephone conversations with family and friends. E-mails to others. Thanksgiving Day parade playing in the background.
Later in the morning – preparations of favorite dishes to contribute to the shared dinner in the afternoon. Mashed potatoes, with fresh-chopped garlic, fresh rosemary, sour cream, butter, salt and pepper. Baby peas and pearl onions in a light cream sauce. My mother’s recipe for pineapple upsidedown cake, with extra maraschino cherries as part of the decoration, begun, and, then, baked in a black, cast iron fry pan – as that’s the best way. The perfume of fruits, fixings and fresh herbs blending into an aromatic, Thanksgiving day memory.
After we (Al, Gus-The Wonder Dog and I) arrived at my younger son’s home, the first whiff of turkey, with homemade cornbread stuffing, wafted down the stairs. Added to our feast was: Al’s homemade mashed carrots and turnips, with sweet butter, and; Ces’ turkey, stuffing, homemade cranberry sauce and brussel sprouts. What a feast! All washed down with a glass or two of dark amber Duchesse de Bourgogne.
What was required next was to temporarily step away from that table, with a few remnants of the fixings left on the plates. One must leave room for the two desserts.
Stepping into the late afternoon air was a welcome respite, all three dogs (Gus, Betty and Lucy) bouncing around, still looking for a bit of extra food and (always) for our attentions.
By then, the day had turned unseasonably mild, with a damp sweetness beginning to come in. No jackets required. Sun lowering a bit more in the West. That certain slant of light. Three of us talked on the terrace of food and incidental things, attempting to wiggle out a bit more space.
After a sufficient respite, the desserts were laid out – the aforementioned pineapple upsidedown cake (served with Brooklyn Creamery Company’s Extra Thick, Single Cream) and a pumpkin pie, with pecan and praline crumble, decorated with rich, yellow whipped cream edging, courtesy of Pastiche; and, some rugelach, just for good measure.
I cannot recall that last time I was as full as I was yesterday. One more bite and it would have spoiled everything.
Another retreat to the terrace, sunset by now. Lights of the city coming up. The trio of red, flashing warning lights at the top of the three stacks at the electric company flickering like erratic fireflies through the branches of the de-leafed, skeletal trees. The low whir of other folks coming or going, crossing the I-Way, East to West to East.
More incidental conversations, each happily fed and full, enjoying the evening’s air and city silence.
The divided leftovers are still covered and untouched. I’m just beginning to feel hungry, again.
A singularly memorable Thanksgiving Day 2015.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
As a way of continuing to celebrate a Day of Thanks; and, to return many favors and blessings received, please accept The Thanksgiving Reader, created by Seth Godin and others. This is a free download; and, can be generously shared, individually and/or globally. Thank you, as always, Seth.
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“The first step is, simply, everything.” — via Twitter & ROAD TO PEACE FILM – poem
There are no adequate words to express my gratitude upon seeing this, unexpectedly, on Twitter this morning.
Simply to say “Thank you.”, to Road To Peace Film and to Leon Stuparich, for the asking; and, of course, to HH Dalai Lama. _/|\_
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Breaking silence: we have work to do – essay
“Today, like every other day, we wake up empty/and frightened….” ~ Rumi
There are days when the world is too much with us – when the news reports are about the terrifying things we continue to do to each other, when an unexpected telephone call too early in the morning changes everything and there’s nothing you can do about it but pray (for a long time) and to show them you love them, when where you were once able to see beauty in that certain slant of light or find solace in the quietude of that sunset or the ocean; or, the enduring love of that person who gently tries to prod you back to your better self falls on your deaf heart. A long-loved friend dies – you were better than sisters to each other. The drowning of another friend’s 3 year old son strikes another shattering blow. Like a slug being hit by salt, you curl up, tight.
You know you’re in trouble; but, can’t find your way back.
Slowly, by constancy, grace, force of will and that invisible Love, a small chink finds its way in. Belly laughs return. Someone you’ve reached out to after your long silence interrupts your conversation, prays for you, and your heart lifts a little – amen.
No one said this life would be easy; and, sometimes it’s not. But, it’s worth it – every time.
Gratitude.
~ Jessan
“…Everything/has to do with loving and not loving/This night will pass./Then we have work to do.” ~ Rumi
Thank You ~ many languages
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At This Time of the Turning of the Year – essay
At This Time of the Turning of the Year – essay
At this time of the turning of the year my thoughts go in two directions – turning back and turning forward. Simultaneously, I stand exactly where and as I am in this moment.
Turning back, 2014 has been another year of continuing to become accustomed to not being able to hear my youngest sister’s laughter, to share a story of our adventures and expectations. Until we meet, again, Genevieve – I love you and miss you, BabyGirl. Your children and I will tell stories to your grandchildren of growing up together and of your gentleness and loving ways – part of your legacy.
2014 has, also, been a year of good, sometimes challenging, professional and personal work for me. Collaborating with clients to create custom-crafted content, strategies, buffing and polishing existing content until it shines and communicates exactly, mentoring and more. Good folks. Good work. Thank you for your confidence and continued support. My special thanks to Adam J. Kovitz, an extra-ordinary Friend and collaborator. Get this guy!
My personal work continues to shift, evolve, change, as it has since 1985. My gratitude to all poets and writers who came before me is steadfast and enduring. A particular nod of the head must go to Michael S. Harper, 1st Poet Laureate for the State of Rhode Island, through whose work, counsel, teachings and friendship I have been (and continue to be) enlarged, challenged, humbled, sustained. Thank you, MSH.
Gratitude, also, for the blessings of love from my three SweetMen – Al, Sandro and Ces. You enrich and sweeten my life; and, are loved more than you know.
In contrast, there were parts of 2014 that I would wish I never witnessed nor experienced. Continued killings, hatreds, viciousness, turmoil, senseless slaughters, ongoing acts of unkindness. Heartbreaking. Destructive beyond all measure. Repeating history. Lessons not learned.
Once again I ask myself: “What is my part in this?” I ask you: “What is your part in this?”
And, so its continues to go – another month turned, another year passes.
At this time of the turning of the year, I remember, rejoice, reflect and rejuvenate. May the blessings and joy of loving and being loved by someone somewhere follow and sustain you throughout 2015. May all your troubles be little ones; and, the wind always at your back.
#Happy2015
~ Jessan
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#ActsOfKindness – essay
Kindness is the language which the deaf can hear and the blind can see. ~ Mark Twain #quote
#ActsOfKindness – essay
More and more, recently, it seems to me that what’s needed are more acts of simple courtesy and kindness. A smile to a stranger. The door held open for the next person behind you. A call and/or handwritten note to a loved one you know is not in such a good place today; or, to whom you’ve not reached out for too long. The simple “Please.” and “Thank you.”
With that in mind, via various social media, I’ve been posting with the hashtag #ActsOfKindness.
If you, like me, agree that our Big Blue Marble could use just a little more courtesy, a little more kindness, please be free to use and/or post using #ActsOfKindness.
Thanks, in advance and anticipation ~
~ Jessan
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Before All Our Lives Began To Change – narrative
Before All Our Lives Began to Change – narrative
In every life there are times that drive us back inside ourselves, that cause us to remember people, places, events that may have been met, passed through and/or witnessed many years earlier; and, to reflect upon those remembrances from a different point of view.
In particular, the past year and a half has been another period of that kind of reflection in my life. Often, these times a hard. Frequently triggered by a loss. That is true with me.
I write about this not from the point of pity but, rather, with gratitude. It’s been another kind of refining, tempering and becoming more clear, less “cluttered” and closer (still) to my truer self – a life-long process.
This is just to say that if you, too, have been suffering, felt lost, are confused or are in a moment of pain and seek peace – keep searching, go to those “hard places” that only you truly know about your life, open your Spirit to the simple beauty that is always available.
No one ever told me this living would be easy. I’m not telling you that either.
What I’m saying is face your fears (they are illusions). Embrace (wholeheartedly and openly) your pain. Call it by name, deal with it and, then, move on to the better parts that are waiting for you to arrive.
What I’m continually reminded of when I re-emerge from these times is that the singular gifts of love, light and laughter are always available, it is a choice to receive or reject them.
In gratitude,
~ Jessan
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The Cambridge Poem
T H E C A M B R I D G E P O E M ~ #poetry
Commencement Address – Class of 1990 – The Cambridge School, Weston, MA
Give your regards when you go to the reunion and at the dinner,
say that you were thinking about them They’ll, eventually, recall
your name; you went to the movies with that one, felt the weight
of their life when they sat next to you – they never said a word
All of you are rising friends: one used to play the piano, one once
wrote a play, one even seemed awakened enough to photograph the
fields as the unencumbered with tutored minds and unrehearsed passions
Meet them at the door, they’ve brought the souvenirs of time; a seashell
from the Pacific, the nose of a marble saint, and from the field
a spent casing divulged from the flower bed
Face a rising world bearing its gifts in its hands, kiss your incidental
dreams – rise, move away, take others
Give your regards to the well-protected; you knew them, you went
to school together There’s something to bury when you begin
to move away When you are ready and rich in your wish for the
world, you have a new race to start
From the heart of this darkened quadrangle, I hear the library
hum, an immense chorus of writers murmur inside their books along
the unlit, alphabetical shelves; each one stitched into their
own private coat, (you will have to write your own) together forming
a continuous, enormous breath of language
I picture a figure in the act of reading, shoes on the desk, head tilted
into the wind, a person in two worlds, holding the nape of their neck
as another’s life saturates the page; or, in the middle of a thesis,
moving from paragraph to verse, touring endless rooms (you will have to write your own)
I hear the voice of my mother and father reading and inside their
voices lay other, distant sounds
I see us reading ourselves away from ourselves, straining in circles of
light to find more light until the line of words becomes a trail
that we follow across a page and you will have to listen hard to
hear the voices going away (and, you will have to write your own).
© 1990 Jessan Dunn (DeCredico) Otis
Jessan Dunn Otis|Writer 