Shannon Paige - Embodied Poetry Yoga

Marian Lois Shields Robinson — our mother, mother-in-law, and grandmother — had a way of summing up the truths about life in a word or two, maybe a quick phrase that made everyone around her stop and think. Her wisdom came off as almost innate, as something she was born with, but in reality it was hard-earned, fashioned by her deep understanding that the world's roughest edges could always be sanded down with a little grace.

Don’t sweat the small stuff.

Know what’s truly precious.

As a parent, you’re not raising babies — you’re raising little people.

Don’t worry about whether anybody else likes you. Come home. We’ll always like you here.

She grew up one of seven children on the red-lined South Side of Chicago, the daughter of Purnell Shields and Rebecca Jumper. When she was a teenager, her parents separated and her mother supported herself as a nursing aide. Her father, because of the color of his skin, wasn’t allowed to join a union or work for larger construction firms, and he grew mistrustful of a world that seemed to have little place for him. Yet many mornings, he would wake the kids up at sunrise by blasting jazz records as an alarm clock. She learned early that even in the face of hardship, there was music to be found.

As a young woman, she studied to become a teacher before working as a secretary. She fell quickly and madly in love with Fraser Robinson, another South-Sider with a boxer’s strength and jazz-lover’s cool. Together, they raised two children, Craig and Michelle, in a tiny upstairs apartment on Euclid Avenue in South Shore.

She volunteered for the PTA and taught her children to read at an early age, sitting together as they sounded out words on a page, giving them the strength and confidence to walk to school — and out into the world — all on their own. She once chewed out a police officer who had accused Craig of stealing a bike, demanding that the adult apologize to her son. On summer nights, she’d pack the family into the car with a steaming plate of chicken for a trip to the drive-in movies. On New Year’s Eve, she’d pass around pigs in a blanket and raise a toast to Auld Lang Syne. And every night, for years on end, she and Fraser would hold court at the dinner table, where they indulged all manner of questioning, teaching their children to believe in the power and worth of their own voices.

When Craig decided to leave a lucrative finance job to pursue his dream of coaching basketball, she was there with her wholehearted support. When Michelle married a guy crazy enough to go into politics, she was just as encouraging. At every step, as our families went down paths none of us could have predicted, she remained our refuge from the storm, keeping our feet on solid ground. On Election Night in 2008, when the news broke that Barack would soon shoulder the weight of the world, she was there, holding his hand.

With a healthy nudge, she agreed to move to the White House with Michelle and Barack. We needed her. The girls needed her. And she ended up being our rock through it all. She relished her role as a grandmother to Malia and Sasha — just as she doted on Avery, Leslie, Austin, and Aaron. Less encumbered by the responsibilities of motherhood, she’d indulge in a little more fun and games while keeping any danger of spoiling her grandchildren safely at bay. And although she enforced whatever household rules we’d set for bedtime, watching TV, or eating candy, she made clear that she sided with her “grandbabies” in thinking that their parents were too darn strict.

The trappings and glamour of the White House were never a great fit for Marian Robinson. “Just show me how to work the washing machine and I’m good,” she’d say. Rather than hobnobbing with Oscar winners or Nobel laureates, she preferred spending her time upstairs with a TV tray, in the room outside her bedroom with big windows that looked out at the Washington Monument. The only guest she made a point of asking to meet was the Pope. Over those eight years, she made great friends with the ushers and butlers, the folks who make the White House a home. She’d often sneak outside the gates to buy greeting cards at CVS, and sometimes another customer might recognize her. “You look like Michelle’s mother,” they’d say. She’d smile and reply, “Oh, I get that a lot.”

After the White House, she returned to Chicago, reconnecting with longtime friends, trading wise-cracks, traveling, and enjoying a good glass of wine. She passed peacefully this morning, and right now, none of us are quite sure how exactly we’ll move on without her.

As a mother, she was our backstop, a calm and nonjudgmental witness to our triumphs and stumbles. She was always, always there, welcoming us back home no matter how far we had journeyed, with that deep and abiding love.

For Barack and Kelly, she was the best mother-in-law anyone could hope for. We would tease her sometimes that she’d need to stop thinking that she was “imposing” on us because we always wanted to see more of her, not less.

As a grandmother, at every stage of their lives, from infancy through adulthood, she stood secondary watch over her grandchildren’s growth and development, inspiring them, listening to them, telling them she was proud of them, making them feel loved, like they were remarkable in every way.

And as a sister, aunt, cousin, neighbor, and friend to so many, she was beloved beyond words by countless others whose lives were improved by her presence.

We will all miss her greatly, and we wish she were here to offer us some perspective, to mend our heavy hearts with a laugh and a dose of her wisdom.

Yet we are comforted by the understanding that she has returned to the embrace of her loving Fraser, that she’s pulled up her TV tray next to his recliner, that they’re clinking their highball glasses as she’s catching him up with the stories about this wild, beautiful ride. She’s missed him so.

“The whole world is full of little Craigs and little Michelles,” she’d often remind us, underlining the beauty and potential within every child.

As always, she was right. What is also true — although she adamantly denied it — is that there was and will be only one Marian Robinson. In our sadness, we are lifted up by the extraordinary gift of her life. And we will spend the rest of ours trying to live up to her example.

– Michelle, Craig, Barack, Kelly, Avery, Leslie, Malia, Sasha, Austin, and Aaron

Just show up.

First year of graduate school be like…….. ooof… and awesome. Straight A’s (and not by a lack of effort!)

I have never worked harder in my life, but the work is necessary and good… and it’s been filled with some amazing humans and projects that have been helping me move forward… one step at a time.

How to Comfort the Grieving Without Saying "Sorry for Your Loss" - Tiny Buddha Here’s why “Sorry for your loss” rubs me the wrong way and what to say instead if you’re trying to comfort someone’s who’s grieving.

If you’re reading this, the statement is instantly valid.

“What did we learn…”
My pals and I must each say this ten times a day…
❤️❄️
Sometimes it’s just funny, sometimes obvious, and sometimes just super real and serious…
⛈️
This last week had a scary midnight (all night up) siren serenade for incoming tornados and thunderstorms… but a Twitter/X reveal of an at the moment (kind of) newscast of where and what the storm was doing…exactly-ish… animals and a makeshift stack of necessities in the center of the house loo with the big claw fit tub…… we were ready (scared, but ready)… and ultimately 💯…
❄️
…and then (in what seemed like 30 seconds later…) an arctic blast shut the whole city down with snow and wind chill revealed that my “little blue girl” 125 year old house has NO flooring insulation and / piping insulation… so even with water running, yeah… frozen pipes… an a top temp of 50 degrees in the house… sitting right in front of the fire… 🔥 but we were stocked up with cooking and baking supplies and I made bread and meatloaf and pies… we never lost power or internet and stayed on top of classes, homework and work… and again… today the water 🚿 came on again and we were 💯…

❤️
Tonight, as I walked around the house, turning off lights and putting her to bed… I thought across the last couple (dozen) dramas and days and mused at how grateful I am for my men, my church, my friends… my peeps… we kept spirits up when the winds were wild… we didn’t falter, we walked… we sat… we listened…

???
So much.
🙏
Thanks guys… for climbing under the house… for hours, in the frigid cold… for never leaving my side… and for eating everything I cooked / baked and for pretending it was the “best” food ever…… it steadied my nerves in my first Arkansas winter…

?🙏?
That I am grateful beyond measure.
And… that we never, ever really do anything alone… truly, together we are stronger than we ever could be apart.
⛈️❄️🤔❤️🙏

An old friend just asked me… where I have been… ???

She noted that I have been off all social media for over a year.

In all honestly… I didn’t know what to say between then and now. After my late husband’s su***de, I went a little insane. It was an insane time. The grief and confusion was more than my brain could handle. I did it all wrong. But, then again… as I have learned… wrong is pretty normal… in such an abnormal and devastating circumstance.

So… I have stopped teaching yoga , for the most part. Every time I opened my mouth in class I would think about him. I would remember how he tried so hard to be supportive of yoga and my career, learn about it, and remember little details and words. In my old studio, I would look out the west windows and would remember his truck or Jeep driving by.

I tried to move on… and perhaps too quickly, hoping the pain would go away if I just adopted a new identity and life. Turns out, it doesn’t really work that way…

Enter the big life pivot. I applied to graduate school at the of public service in Little Rock, Arkansas. I bought a 125 year old home downtown and dove in… The program was (is) more challenging than I could have ever imagined… but I love it. It is giving me purpose… and I know he would be proud.

I spent the first semester researching survivorship of su***de loss and it explained why I lost his family and my entire social network. It was so hard, but brilliantly necessary… I aim to work towards a capstone project that supports first degree relation survivors. Going completely insane with grief isn’t a requirement of losing some you love deeply to su***de. It just, right now, is very common as most (if not nearly all) are devoid of adequate support. So… yeah… this is where I have been.

And if we have lost touch… dm me… sorry… I promise to be better.

START CLOSE IN

Start close in,
don’t take
the second step
or the third,

start with the first
thing
close in,
the step
you don’t want to take.

Start with
the ground
you know,
the pale ground
beneath your feet,
your own
way to begin
the conversation.

Start with your own
question,
give up on other
people’s questions,
don’t let them
smother something
simple.

To hear
another’s voice,
follow
your own voice,
wait until
that voice

becomes an
intimate
private ear
that can
really listen
to another.

Start right now
take a small step
you can call your own
don’t follow
someone else’s
heroics, be humble
and focused,
start close in,
don’t mistake
that other
for your own.

Start close in,
don’t take
the second step
or the third,

start with the first
thing
close in,
the step
you don’t want to take.

…

START CLOSE IN
in David Whyte: Essentials
Many Rivers Press © David Whyte
..

Following the Light.
Photo © David Whyte
Whidbey Island.
November 16th 2022

This is so crazy making. And they know it. https://carolineabbott.com/2012/11/what-is-gaslighting-another-word-for-psychological-abuse/

The people we spend the most time with have a great effect on our mood, behaviors, and energy.

Pay attention to how you feel when you’re with certain people in your life.
Awareness is the key to preserving your mental health, living life on your terms, and maintaining your peace of mind.

Remember not everyone in your life deserves access to you.
You are the boss of your life. 💛

(People are probably not happy with their lives if they’re busy discussing yours.-unknown)

Big thank you to People magazine for calling Follow Your Heart a “record filled to the brim with lessons and lyrical treasures” 🙏🏾

I had the chance to dive deep and discuss the loss of my biological father to COVID, how the past three years has changed my worldview, and how that all translated to this new record.

Check out the full interview via link below!

Read Full Article: https://people.com/music/michael-franti-lost-biological-dad-but-gained-new-view-that-became-emfollow-your-heart-em/

- Do you love Me? Alice asked.

- No, I don't love you! replied the White Rabbit. Alice frowned and clasped her hands together as she did whenever she felt hurt.

- See? replied the White Rabbit.
Now you're going to start asking yourself what makes you so imperfect and what did you do wrong so that I can't love you at least a little.

You know, that's why I can't love you. You will not always be loved Alice, there will be days when others will be tired and bored with life, will have their heads in the clouds, and will hurt you.

Because people are like that, they somehow always end up hurting each other's feelings, whether through carelessness, misunderstanding, or conflicts with themselves.

If you don't love yourself, at least a little, if you don't create an armor of self-love and happiness around your heart, the feeble annoyances caused by others will become lethal and will destroy you.

The first time I saw you I made a pact with myself: "I will avoid loving you until you learn to love yourself."

Author: Unknown

Art: Image via Wattpad

Exactly;
🤍

Magic.

I am.
I admit it.
Constant awe at the missteps I still make.
🤍
My mistakes and misjudgments over the past many, many decades have seemed effortless… the learning curve, always steep… and heavy to carry…
😱
Turning 50 in a few days…
😂
Cheers to 1/2 of a century, a birthday surprise party … deets I don’t even know…. And cheers to still learning all of the things… over and over again… ❤️

Hello, Monday! So here is your Monday smile. Jai!

Take up space — unapologetically. 💛 You belong here.

📷 lavenderthebook on Instagram

Same Shape, Different Pose: Bridge, Camel, and Bow Having a tricky time with Bow Pose? Take what you know from Bridge and Camel and change your relationship to gravity. Here's how.

INVISIBLE

Always beside you,
always with you,
a hairsbreadth
that is no
hairsbreadth
at all.

Just a word away,
or sometimes
when the need
is great
an entire
sentence
lived fully
and physically
to the end.

But most of the time
apprehended
and even
fully realized
only
in the moment
before anything
that needs
a single word
takes shape.

Your entire body
flooded
with the gift
that is given
everyday
just
by breathing
in.

And then
the moment
you let it go,
completely
and utterly
in the out breath,
the entire world
flooded

by everything
that lies beneath
what
you had previously
thought
was you.

…

INVISIBLE
In STILL POSSIBLE
Poetry by David Whyte
Many Rivers Press. January 2022

…

Seeing, what cannot to begin with, be seen; saying, what in the beginning, cannot be said, hearing what could not at first be heard: these are all the tasks of poetry; which is really just the strange word we use for human speech on the edge of revelation and discovery - language that is about to make itself unnecessary- arrival and disappearance - heard and not heard at the same time - everything both invisible and seen again in a new light. DW
..

Far Horizon.
Photo © David Whyte.
Land’s End. San Francisco.
November 1st 2021

A quote from my online course Practical Mysticism.

I hope you are all finding some peace in your weekend. Jai!