My favorite week of the year, the week between Christmas and the New Year. New Year's Day is without doubt my favorite day of the year. The week leading up to New Year is especially poignant and introspective for me. I relish it.
I love new beginnings, fresh starts, cleared slates, clean pages, new chapters, wrapping up. New Year brings renewed energy and expectation. No resolutions! Merely a day on the calendar to remind me to say "yes."
This last year was full of change and lessons, surprises and upheavals. In the end it allowed me to remember who I am and what matters to me. I walked away from managing and suffered significant withdrawal symptoms. I sat with myself; I sat with mySelf. I came back to me...
What I wish for us all is a new year to move more steadily in the direction of authenticity and faith --authentic faith.
Here is my New Year's card for anyone reading this: May you embrace your unique and distinctive Life; may you readily share your Life with the rest of us; may you remember you are not alone, that it is good that you are here among us. Amen.
Saturday, December 18, 2010
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Getting to the heart of it, the truth of it,
Circling overhead, making pass after pass,
Checking radar before landing.
There is something that is Known
That I’ve yet to discover, something that
Eludes me time and again,
The search for which brings me back to this circling pattern
Honing in, staying the course, not turning back,
Determined to remain true to myself in search of my Self.
My value is in doubt,
My capacity for growth, healing and transformation
Becomes more and more elusive.
Relationships that should nurture and sustain
Wobble and tilt, accuse and cause pain, no one to blame.
I surrender to surrendering,
I understand the process and concur wholemindedly,
Yet my heart stands back waiting for I know not what.
Might 2010 close in upon me, still waiting?
Posted by Robyn Whyte at 9:18 AM
Monday, December 13, 2010
Someone recently asked me about the poems I write, so I thought I’d take advantage of the blog to describe the poems and the process.
I stumbled on “the poems” many years ago in the privacy of my own mind. I would sit at my computer with a blank screen, mostly when I was troubled or confused. I would close my eyes and drift inward (no other way to describe it) and before long I was typing a message to me from Me. I have no idea why, but the form the message took resembled a poem more than paragraphs. For quite some time this process was very private, very personal and one I kept to myself. The messages I received were always loving, supportive and non-judgmental…comforting and insightful.
A few months later I described this process to a friend who then asked if I could write poems for other people. Her question was shocking to me, as I’d never considered such a thing. I began experimenting with family and friends. I found that the same Me who inspired and comforted me was more than willing to do so on behalf of others. Though every poem is unique and personal, they also seem to have a universal message of support and affirmation.
I decided to call the poems SpiritSpeak Poems and began accepting requests to write a poems for individuals, couples or groups at a charge of $40 per poem. They do not foretell the future; they are not “channeled.” They do not give advice, per se. Nor am I clairvoyant. The more information I have about the recipient, the more personal the poem.
Often someone requests a poem for someone else to give as a gift. In that instance, the poem is mailed directly to the recipient, much like a gift of flowers is delivered directly to the recipient with a card announcing who sent the gift. Though the poems are written for other people, I retain ownership of every poem and ask that they not be published without my permission.
Here is a sample, a real poem, names changed, that was requested for a woman who was turning 70 and also about to celebrate a milestone wedding anniversary.
Milestones, benchmarks, turning points, arrivals, and
70 years old, 50 years married,
A mature life,
A mature marriage. Celebratory.
Imagine sitting with an open scrapbook,
Not a real one, you wouldn’t want the distraction of
Looking at old photos, old invitations, old mementos,
But an imaginary scrapbook, found only within your mind.
Snapshots of feelings, thoughts, ideas, dreams, horrors,
Victories and embarrassments, wins and losses.
You’ve had them all. Some are public and acknowledged,
Others are private, poignantly secret.
Some expectations never came to pass and likely never will.
Other events, events that could never have been predicted,
Landed on you unannounced. Who knew?
The photos you actually took and saved
Cannot begin to capture the felt experiences that color your life.
Take an imaginary walk with you as you were at 16, and
Explain to her what will happen. Be gentle with her,
There is so much she doesn’t know.
When she has heard you out and thanks you for your guidance,
Merely say you’re welcome, I wouldn’t have missed it, any of it.
Now, take an imaginary walk with your fiancé, Leonard,
A week before your wedding.
Explain to him what will happen and how it will all come to pass.
When he looks at you with wide eyes and asks, “are you serious?”
Just nod, and smile and take his hand.
And then…and then
Find a cool pool of clear water, fill your lungs with air, and
Gently sink into the pool until you are totally submerged,
Your hair floating and dancing about your head,
And say “amen”, so be it, let it be, as it is, yes…
Towel yourself off, and walk back into your life.
Posted by Robyn Whyte at 3:59 PM
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Gently sliding, succumbing, releasing,
Stepping away from managing,
Backing away from accomplishing,
Drifting, free falling.
Allowing the year to wind down
Without my guidance, my effort.
Trusting the world knows how
To rotate without me,
Trusting that life goes on even
As I lay down the baton and
Walk off stage.
Controlling, managing, controlling, managing,
Exhausting myself with ill conceived
Attempts at prevention, forestalling,
Keeping the hounds at bay.
I relinquish the wheel and
Slide gratefully into the back seat
To watch the world glide by.
If summoned, I will respond,
Meanwhile, I will sit and reflect,
Knit and breathe,
Wait, and trust
She who loves and trusts me.
Posted by Robyn Whyte at 8:40 AM