...so what comes after the Cherry trees?...

Ability to do all I have to do perfectly
To hug my mom
Acceptance
Reassurance
Freedom
Safety
Hope
Physical contact
Cuddle party with friends
Ongoing connection to people who mean the most to me
Family and friends
Connection
Compassion
Better direction
Patience
Perseverance
Letting go
Being connected with the people in my life
Certainty of well-being for my children
Abundance
People to be kind
Support
A hug from an outsider
To contribute
To know I’ve helped someone
A friend’s hug
Family and certainty
Alone time
Basketball and friends
Being grounded in what matters most
Letting go of everything but what matters most
Being connected with people in my life
Hope that my children’s future will be alright
Grateful and still
Courage of my convictions
To express my authentic self and act on those expressions
A new awakening
Re-commitment
SPIRIT
Play-time (with other adults)
Maintaining connection
Being with my loved ones
 

...the robins of May.

 

I sent an email last week, with a poem titled "End of April," by Phillis Levin.  If you missed it, don't worry, I'm including it below.

The poem describes a person who finds a robin's egg, and feels sadness at the empty shell, but also hope for what was inside, which is "gone now, but lives in my heart, where, periodically it opens up its wings."

I asked you and others to respond with a few words describing what we're needing the most at this time.   The image of the robin at the top of this email, and the words below it, contain the hopes and words and wishes of those who graciously responded thus far.  

I hope, in the coming months, that you fill your own robin with the words and thoughts of both yourself and others, and I hope that your robin helps sustain you, as the one above has already helped sustain me.

 

Wishing you health and wellness, and all of the robins that May might bring,

The CDR Family

 

End of April

Under a cherry tree
I found a robin’s egg,
broken, but not shattered.
I had been thinking of you,
and was kneeling in the grass
among fallen blossoms
when I saw it: a blue scrap,
a delicate toy, as light
as confetti
It didn’t seem real,
but nature will do such things
from time to time.
I looked inside:
it was glistening, hollow,
a perfect shell
except for the missing crown,
which made it possible
to look inside.
What had been there
is gone now
and lives in my heart
where, periodically,
it opens up its wings,
tearing me apart.

—Phillis Levin

 
 

Center for Dialogue and Resolution
1400 Cross Street  | Eugene, Oregon 97402
5413445366 | info@lanecdr.org

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