Open Heart Surgery is a newsletter devoted to exploring metamorphosis, unravelling, questioning and healing. I write essays and poems in service to personal and collective liberation - the personal, political, social, cultural and spiritual realms are all present here. This is a space for divergent thinking and open hearts.
Hello dear reader,
I wrote this poem a few months ago, at the beginning of February. I was lying in my mother’s garden, after a gorgeous, gentle new moon yoga practice and was enjoying some time spent just lying in savasana afterwards, cradled by the earth, sky-gazing, fully awake, aware and attentive to the beauty of that present moment.
This poem is a devotion to the whole-hearted contentedness and fulfilment of being exactly where I was, with my breath, my eyes, my ears, my nose, and all of my senses attuned, alive and sentient.
May this poem offer a restful repose for your Easter Monday, or whenever this poem lands in your lap. May it inspire a long, slow inhale and a long, sweet exhale of relief.
May this poem offer permission to pause, to notice, and to take stock of some of the infinite beauty around you.
- 35mm film photo of darling Claire, eating apricots we found on the roadside, Queenstown, January 2022.
The earth asks us to lie down.
I don’t want a fast life. Sure, continents call across distant seas, Longing to be explored. Other cultures and religions call too, and foreign friends with smiles just like mine. Yes, festivals beg to be attended, created and celebrated, and dancing must be done. But after the travels and the dancing, And the making of things, After the chaos and cacophony of living: The surprises, the delight, the sorrow, the heartbreak, the hope, the suffering, another illness, depression or dream fulfilled - The earth asks us to lie down. To smell freshly cut grass and to relish in the gentleness of being held. To witness the vast blue sky, With its ever-changing performance of cloud art, And to deepen our breath, to take in the clean air with gratitude. To become a part of the lungs of all of existence. To notice the seasons. To hear the orchestra of my mother’s garden in summer, the constant hum of cicadas beneath layers of birdsong. To listen with no desire but to hear life’s chorus. To smell the pollen and perfume of her flowers, and the fragrance of possibility. To witness beauty, the delight of nature expressing herself in the faces of cherry-pink lilies, and violet and lavender roses in bloom. To see the orange wings of monarch butterflies and quiet white moths, fluttering through the garden in hopeful search of nectar. To see life’s longing for delight in one thousand forms. Gem, our black labrador, lies beside me, one paw in my hand, gazing into my eyes, seeing only soul. Bella, the velvet black cat, stands guard at the edge of my yoga mat, as watchful energy protector. The animals and I chat and exchange smiles. The great Copper beach tree has watched me grow, from curious baby to curious woman. I lie beneath her generous shade, And surrender my ambition, if only for a moment. Everything can wait. Enough doing, I have being to be. To lie down, and to watch the world in wonder. To witness the quiet, ever-present delight in it all. No, I don’t want a fast life. I need time to lie upon the Earth, to feel her breath rise and fall with mine. You could spend your whole life busy, missing all these miracles. But sooner or later, the earth will ask you to lie down. Sooner or later, the earth asks us to lie down.
Thank you for reading or listening.
Let me know if this poem resonated with you.
Beautifully penned Laura!