Here
The holy is right here
in this moment.
Linger here
watching your daughter’s eyelashes flutter
as she pulls you closer
in her fairy dress and pearls,
cups her little hands so softly
around your ear,
and whispers a magical secret.
Linger here
watching your son’s eyes light up,
talking with his hands,
wondering how they got so big,
listening to spy tales and adventures
he has in store,
asking you to fasten all the gadgets
around his tiny waist so he can run.
Linger here
forgiving your husband
when you are angry and so very right,
taking your beloved’s hand
and choosing instead
to soften and let go.
Linger here
memorizing the way he still looks at you,
wanting to make love to you,
wanting to make you happy,
wanting you to know how he sees you
embodying your power as you age,
fuller, rounder, sensual, beautiful.
Linger here
watching your children walk away from you
into class for the first time,
shrugging their shoulders,
taking it all in,
looking at you,
looking back to their class,
and finding themselves, their place,
and your years of loving them.
Linger here
noticing how your dad still calls you his little girl,
now softer, now hugging longer,
now moving slower.
Linger here
seeing how all these years
your mom just wanted you to be happy –
silently, prayerfully, gladly sacrificing her life
for yours.
Linger here
feeling your bare feet in the cool grass,
the hint of fall’s arrival soon,
being breathed,
being blessed,
believing that every scar, every giggle,
every heartache, every long embrace
in this messy, imperfect, human form
is precious,
all for you to have
and let go.
Linger here
in this fleeting,
fragile, miraculous moment –
holy
just as it is.
Lisa McCrohan
We can often go looking for healing, wholeness, and happiness outside ourselves, outside this very moment, when the holy – the sacred – is right here. And we have a choice — to pause and be here…or keep looking.
Something within us has always known that the divine is within. Happiness. Contentment. Delight. It’s all here within us. But the voices around us that sell us on something different can be quite strong. We can get lost, searching and yearning for connection, a sense of belonging, reassurance that we are OK from our world. We can get lost in the constant noise of daily life and feel like we are scattered and even frozen in “overwhelm,” unsure of WHAT to do.
And yet, this is what I am finding: over the years of deeply listening and coming back again to the whispers within me…I know the divine is right here within us, within the messy, “perfectly imperfect” moments of this human experience — just as they are. And when I LINGER HERE in THIS VERY MOMENT – turning my attention to the incredibly simple yet magnificent blessings that are right here – a deep sense of contentment arises. My heart rate drops. My nervous system settles. I am present. Deeply present.
Such experiences of “lingering here” encourage us to drop the “trying to find” the divine, find happiness, find contentment. Instead, we learn – slowly – that the holy has always been here and this life is so so short, yet full of everyday miracles.
We don’t have to do anything. Just keep opening. Keep softening. Keep resisting nothing. Keep returning “Home” – here to this present moment. Keep seeing the delight, the holy, the sacred in all of it. Yes ALL of it.
I believe this is possible — for me, for all of us — no matter how amped up your nervous system is. No matter the trauma you have experienced. No matter how you are wired. And it begins with just this breath. Just this moment of “lingering here.”
** Friends, thank you for all your lovely comments — here, on Facebook, and in emails. It’s a delight to know that the poetry I write resonates with you and inspires you. I write from a movement within me, a calling, to inspire this world to live with more delight, compassion, and connection in our everyday lives – however that may look for each of us. May these words awaken a deep sense of delight in you.
*2019 Update:
*If you are a parent, a professional, or a person who influences the life of a child, check out Regarding Our Children, my online course you can now take any time! This is all about setting our children up to thrive. I bring in my clinical, trauma-informed expertise working with clients; my decades of mindfulness; and my experience being “in the trenches” as a mom to share with you researched-backed ways to instill a sense of resilience in your child, empathy, compassion, a growth mindset, and how to support them to be “leaders of their own lives.” I hope you’ll check it out!
Blessings,
I absolutely LOVE reading your writing. I resonate so deeply with your words and ideas. Thank you.
Gwynn, I am deeply grateful. Deeply grateful. I never know how to respond to beautiful comments. I think because it’s because I can’t put to words how what I write really is just me “showing up” and deeply listening. Whenever I say, “thank you” to someone who compliments me on something I’ve written, I’m really bowing deeply to the divine and how we are in cahoots with each other – inspiring a bit of delight, compassion for ourselves and each other, and connection with our own hearts, our dear ones, and that “something” bigger than us. So, I guess, ‘thank you, Gwynn.!”
Lisa
I absolutely adore this, Lisa. Especially the part about “making stews and listening.” I always enjoy your posts and relate to them so much. Lots of love, Meghan
Awwww, Meghan, thank you! Yes, stew time is coming!!! Sweet love to you. Lisa
Lingering is such a beautiful word. Lingering. I think I will keep that in the front of my mind all day. Beautiful!
Jodi, that’s me, too! LINGERING. I’m keeping it close to me – just like “open” and “soften” for me. Lingering seems to be calling to me, swirling around me, inviting me. Blessings to you, Jodi. Love, Lisa
This totally made me cry, sitting here at work. This time of year, when, as the Indigo Girls so aptly said “summer is giving up her fight” has always been my favorite time of year, and is the time when I tend to linger more, to absorb. Most of my fondest childhood memories occurred in the late summer/early fall, so I guess I have always been that way. I loved being at your house Saturday, with the kids running in and out, the smell of the grill wafting in, the way our families have become like an extended family. Last night I played outside with my boys until it started to get dark, then reluctantly made them go inside. I, the usual schedule nazi, abandoned it all for a few more minutes of freedom before the long school/work week. This is my time of year when I feel most at peace, and i am going to do my best to be in every moment. Thanks for sharing your gorgeous poem!!
RACHEL! Your words are beautiful!!! I can picture you letting go of the schedule for a bit, watching the kiddos run around, and enjoying all the GREEN around you in your new house. Fall is always my favorite time of year, too. There is both this sense of sadness, quietness, and also energy for me. Rach – I love love love how it felt the other evening with you all here — yes, extended family. I thought the same thing that evening as I watched all of our kiddos run in and out and around, Frank coming in, getting him something to eat and then sending him off so he could fix up the old house, seeing Maeghan and Kurt and nourishing them, too. It was really…perfect. It’s all I’ve ever envisioned. Love, Lisa
Yes – it was perfect! It’s funny, after I made that cake I was worried it would be gross, then I thought “oh well, it’s just Lisa” and brought it anyway. I’ve said that several times – “Oh, it’s just Lisa, it won’t matter if I don’t vacuum/don’t take a shower/bring something weird to dinner/have a mess of dirty dishes” – which may sound like I am saying you don’t matter, but it is the opposite – you matter so much that I have been able to let down my defenses and just be me. Which, really, isn’t that what family is?
Rachel, that totally makes me smile!!! I really love that! This is my measure of how close I am to someone, too — if I am really able to just be me without any anxiety present. THAT is what family is, rachel. love you! lisa