Last weekend I attended an excellent workshop on writing protest poetry. Among the poems we talked about was this gem, I am Dark I am Forest by Jenn Givhan. I love the repetition of the phrase “I carry…” and how the poet threads us (trigger warning) through a maze of generational and societal trauma with specific sensual imagery overlaid in a veil of surrealism.
I was struck most by the “heaviness” of what so many of us may be carrying these days. Whether we’re mired in personal issues related to health, loss, or economic instability; or whether we’re sweating anxiety, sadness and fear after the escalation of war in the Middle East and seeing reels like this one of ICE officers beating people as they take them into custody, it’s a very heavy time.
The poem inspired me to attempt my own version of a prose poem using the refrain of “I carry …” Here’s a short blip from the draft I wrote…
I carry
obedience / even as my horse body strains at the bit / the bridle trying to break the chains of normal to get to an unbroken place. / I carry
all the broken places / my little girl self in the back seat of the station wagon staring at the wall of my parents’ heads / obey / or you’ll embarrass us. /
So I’m asking all of you… what do you carry?
And an extremely relevant follow-up question: How can we put down what we’re carrying?
Not with disgust or abandon, but lovingly.
When I think of carrying, my first association is some heavy object I’ve lugged, like the old air conditioner from the 90s that my partner and I managed to drag out of the closet last weekend and shuffle it onto the hand-truck so we could wheel it to the corner of our road for someone driving by who might need it for the upcoming heat wave. Or the table on our deck we have to shlep back and forth from the garage for the winter, which involves walking backwards on uneven ground and maneuvering corners and stairs. I’ve never been adept at carrying heavy objects, and as I age, I’ve had to stop even more often to rest or find ways to balance the weight on my hips, which can take it more easily than my arms.
But while putting down the deck table for a few minutes can give me enough strength to pick it up again, it’s harder to put down the onslaught of news, or whatever dire reality any of us might be faced with.
There’s been a lot of writing out there on happiness and gratitude. However, a recent study targeted hope as the biggest key to being able to shoulder the burdens we carry. One reason for this: gratitude focuses on events in the past, happiness is usually related to the present, but hope is aimed at the future. When I’m carrying the table, it’s hope that enables me to measure the progress and see how much closer I’ve gotten to the garage each time I stop to rest. The study suggests that people notice the small wins and seek all opportunities, even the tiny ones, to move forward and then celebrate them whenever possible. This can help us strengthen our hope muscle and cultivate a hope mindset, the belief that nothing is static and change is always possible.
This is why I eagerly look forward to Jess Craven’s Sunday posts from her Chop Wood Carry Water newsletter, which are filled with all the good news of the week, which people worked for to make happen
Feel free to use the refrain, I carry… as a writing prompt…
Or perhaps, instead, (or in addition to) the refrain, I hope…
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The owl I saw flying and then landing in a tree on Mt. Toby (Sunderland, MA) gave me an enormous boost of awe and hope.