My body carries tension, muscles knotted up, shoulders sometimes reminding me that I am carrying too much weight on them as I head for the Ibuprofen and make an appointment for a massage, the kind that is not relaxing but I know that pain often precedes healing. I don’t like that, but what can I do?
When I met with my spiritual director this week, I shared with her that I have been writing more but that I notice that this perpetual tightness seems to even pervade my private writing times, interfering with my ability to explore my creativity, to locate metaphors that are not just well-treaded idioms. She suggested we try an exercise, constructing a cinquain (pronounced “sink cane”) poem.
A cinquain is a form of poetry that has five lines (sometimes five-line stanzas), but can be expressed in many ways. The type we created was a “didactic cinquain,” which has these rules:
Line 1: The subject of the poem. One word.
Line 2: Two adjectives that describe the subject. Two words.
Line 3: Action words that describe the subject. Emphasis on verbs and gerunds. Three words.
Line 4: Words that describe the subject, often invoking mood, tone, and emotion. Four words.
Line 5: A synonym or clear reference to the subject. One word.
At first, I wasn’t sure how to do this, both because I had never done it before and also because I wanted to do it “right” (remember that bossy part of me, my Perfectionist?). But like a good student, I complied, and I was surprised by the way my poem unfolded. I was instructed to come up with any noun for the first line, and just like I do when playing Wordle (unlike my daughter who has a couple of vowel-laden words she typically tries), I blurted the first word that came into my head….
“String”
We had already been discussing my tendency to be too “tight” and its effect on my creativity. So this word may have been primed to emerge from my subconscious. Here is what followed as I “untangled” the knotted up thoughts I was exploring.
String
Taut, tangled
Resting, mocking, inviting
Lying on an altar
Offering
That image stayed with me, a reminder of how an ordinary thing like a cast-off piece of string could teach me something important, remind me that my tension may serve a boundaried purpose but that resting from work is also necessary, submitting to what is finished and letting my rest be an offering of trust to God that all does not depend on me. Releasing the tautness, untangling from my expectations, my imperfect offering is enough because He has sanctified it by offering Himself. This the lesson I am learning and re-learning. Here is a longer meditation, free verse that plays with the metaphor a little more.
High-strung The string lies limply on the table. Used, frayed, tangled. Once taut, it functioned, tightly embracing fragility waiting to be unpacked. Resting now, cast aside– forgotten? But I notice, at first imagining it mocking me, my tension without purpose. But no. In silence I have clarity. It invites me to follow, to loosen, even tangled, resting with it on the altar of “Well done.”
Here’s an invitation for you:
Close your eyes and breathe deeply into the lower lobes of your lungs (remember, this activates the calming side of your autonomic nervous system), sitting silently for a couple of minutes
Notice any places of tightness or discomfort in your body, and as you notice them, imagine that you are breathing into those places
In your silence, begin to notice words or images that show up and welcome those things with curiosity
When you are ready, open your eyes and write down one of those words or images, a one-word noun, and follow that with the process of creating your own didactic cinquain…don’t overthink it!
Reflect on what you wrote and pay attention to any parts that stand out to you, meditating on that and again getting curious, wondering whether the words you wrote contain an invitation, a reminder, an encouragement
I decided that my word for next year will be “loosen.” This year my word was “intentional.” I have not always been intentional about how I’ve lived during 2023, but I have been more intentional about making room for silence, reading, thought, and creativity, which is why I am writing here! Do you have a word that you would like to define 2024? Would you be willing to share it with me?
Go forth and be odd!
I love what you did with the writing and reflection!
“It invites me to follow,
to loosen, even tangled,
resting with it on the altar of
“Well done.”
These lines stopped me...so much grace here, even tangled we can rest...💟