Lightning Bugs

“The difference between the right word and almost the right word is the difference between Lightning and the lightning bug.” -Mark Twain

4th of July. Letting the kids stay up late. Sparklers. Lightning bugs. I grew up calling them lightning bugs so they will forever be lightning bugs to me. Drawing hearts in the air with sparklers thinking of Danay. Telling the kids a 4th of July themed Squirrel City in their beds in the dark at 9:30 which, thankfully, is super late for them. Feeling peaceful after a plate shifting few days/weeks. A line from an old poem of mine comes to mind: “plate tectonics, phonics in the language of love.” Things are coming together and shifting and rising up to be healed. And right now, I’m ready for bed with the lingering peace of the rhythmic lightning bugs in my heart guiding me to sleep.

Love notes and life rafts

Today I wrote two love notes. Once I finally get started and get all the stationary out and the pen ready in the mindset right, I just want to keep going. It comes so easy once I get started. But the act of writing a card to someone I love happens less and less these days. The more texts and social media become a thing, the less the handwritten card gets written. The less the phone call gets made. And even less, the knock on the door to see if someone is home.

when we lived in Los Angeles we lived between two people in their 80s and 90s. They both welcomed the knock on the door. This is such a thing of the pass and it’s so missed. Often I would have to call them while I was knocking on the door because they couldn’t hear the knocking. And they always went from not sure who was there to totally delighted once they registered it was me and my children.

this is a salute to love notes and love efforts, whatever they may be. Whether it’s knocking on the door, picking up the phone, picking up the pen to write a note or even picking up the phone to send a text message. Whatever works for you, let yourself just do it. Without pomp and circumstance. Just with love. You never know how it’s going to make someone’s day. How your reaching out could make all the difference to them.

In fact when I finish this post I am going to text three people I haven’t connected with in a while, just to send them a little love. I’m sending you love too. Love notes are life rafts.

Extra and always love to my dear friend Danay who transitioned this time last year. She was famous for her love notes. She sent birthday cards in the mail. She sent thank you and goodbye notes to her nearest and dearest. She wrote love notes to all of her surgeons and caregivers before her double mastectomy years ago. She wrote love notes and more importantly, she lived love.

Big share, little share

Some shares are big. Some are little. Following the energy and the inspiration is what makes it the right size. The true size.

Your shoe size will never change once you hit adulthood, maybe a little. Your true size will ebb and flow. Listen to it. Allow it.

Tonight I felt called to share just a little. And once I gave myself, mySelf, permission to do just that so much wisdom came through.

Big and small are illusions. Truth is everything.

She Speaks In Rainbows

There she goes

As the wind blows

Alive in the breeze

Rustling the leaves

Awake in the trees

Her wisdom so rich

Deep knowing roots

Reaching towards earth

Centered, grounded

Branches growing towards sky

Pointing up towards home

In that moment between life

And forever

A treasure

She is Love

She is nature

She is infinity

Lightning bugs flashed out the window

That July night

Illuminating a lifetime

The light that guided her home

She is light

She is home

She is here and now

Grief is at once a wound and a womb

Dying and giving birth at the exact same time

Letting go and opening

Holding on and closing

Moving forward one step at a time

Feet on the earth

One hand on heart

The other reaching out for the beloved

In hope and despair

Darling, are you there?

Eyes on the sky

A rainbow appears

Shedding healing tears

From this comes growth and nourishment

A hint

A reminder

Aah, yes, you’re there

She is here

Present in the trees

In the moments that bring you to your knees

Please, please

Look up

And look within

The colors of her Love

Wrapping you in

Red

Orange

Yellow

Green

Blue

Indigo

Violet

She speaks in rainbows

She shines in the sun

She lives in Love

-Melissa Renzi

April 17, 2021 

This poem wrote itself in my heart in honor of my beautiful friend, Danay DiVirgilio. I offer this to anyone who knew and loved Danay.

I also offer this to anyone who is grieving a loved one, no matter how recent your loss is. My wish is to support you in seeing how present your loved one’s presence still is. May this be a reminder to listen to the rainbows, watch the sun and find aliveness in Love.

Good things, darling.

Listen With Love

Where to begin?

Listen to the din

The clitter clatter of life all around

The pitter patter of love that surrounds

How many hearts are beating right now?

What do they hold?

Who will be bold and live their heart’s truth?

Who will play small and pretend there’s a roof?

There is no limit to what is possible

Every single river is crossable

Whether you swim or you fly

Or take a different path so high

I ask myself, will I?

Will I keep walking when the path’s not clear?

Will I keep dreaming even when fear is near?

Then I remember 

I know how to steer

I know what is false and what is true

I follow the true

It leads me where I need to go

And sometimes the wind blows extra strong

And some days will feel extra long

My heart is a compass

Aligned to true north

When I listen to the truth

There is no roof

I see the sun moon and stars up above

I listen with love

-Melissa Renzi

Sunday June 27, 2021

Amherst, MA

I wrote this after my first day of the Listening Path morning pages. No surprise that I wrote about listening. Both listening to the sounds of the world all around. And listening to the guidance of the all-knowing heart. To be clear, this was not part of my morning pages. Morning pages are not to be shared or even read by their writer. (Reading morning pages comes much later. I will on occasion share something from morning pages much, much later. Nothing on this blog is from morning pages yet. It’s all from other writing, much of the poetry is written after morning pages in a different section of the same journal.)

Wisdom, Woe or Wow

I’ve been listening to Caroline Myss’s Sacred Contracts on Audible. She talks about how we have the opportunity to interpret our lives events with wisdom or woe. I’m writing this is the very last thing before bed. Dictating actually, live from my bed. And as I said woe it actually typed wow. So I would like to add to Caroline Myss’s Beauty and genius with a little wow. I love the idea of interpreting life with Wisdom, Woe or Wow. The wow reminds me of Mary Oliver and Anne Lamott all at once.

Give it a try. When life presents you with any of its teachings, opportunities, challenges, fumbles, adventures, misadventures, my question for you is how are you going to interpret them? Will you see the wisdom? Or will you bury yourself in the woe? Or will you lift yourself up with the wow?

Good things, darling.

How To Make Space For Morning Pages

So a while back I shared that I was going to start The Listening Path by Julia Cameron. It’s her latest book, a 6-week Artist’s Way program with the theme, you guessed it, of listening. I returned to my morning pages half-heartedly. Not because my heart wasn’t full but because I didn’t give myself the time to fully prepare. During that time I wrote in the mornings when I could, which was rare. Yesterday I began again. I gave myself permission to pause, reflect and begin again. Here are a few things that helped me get ready to fully commit to morning pages.

Make sure the timing is right

Part of the reason my take one at the Listening Path flopped is because I jumped in too quickly. My enthusiasm to begin didn’t include a slowing down to look at the calendar and realize I was in between two long business trips for my husband, which meant solo parenting and a not-so-full energetic cup for me. This time, my husband is home so I’m back to sharing the responsibilities of parenting and our home. And we’ve gotten through the transition from the school year to summer. So take a look at your calendar. Make sure you begin in a time period where you know you’ll be able to actually do it. As in no major changes in your routine. Listen close: I’m not saying wait until the perfect time. There will never, ever be a perfect time and you will never be perfectly ready. It’s all about beginning. Best to begin when your life and calendar have no major interruptions to your early mornings, like travel, appointments or anything that will impact your day to day routine. So that when you begin it’s just a matter of setting your alarm about 45 minutes earlier.

Mark your calendar

Choose your start date at least a few days out. I’ve officially began my morning pages 3 times in my life. The first two times I began on a Monday. This time I began on a Sunday. There’s something extra sacred about beginning on a Sunday for me. My halfhearted attempt was a Thursday. For me, a Sunday or Monday start day is helpful. Since there’s a natural reset to the week on Sunday or Monday that just feels right to me. Find a rhythm that feels right to you. Which will give you the momentum to make sure you have time to do the reading (a chapter a week), the daily morning pages, the artist’s date and your walks if that’s a part of the program you are doing. For me, writing Week 1 Day 1 on the first day makes it official. Each day watching those day numbers increase is so gratifying. It’s like seeing my commitment in writing. And then getting to a new week is also so amazing, I often begin my entries by celebrating my commitment and how many days and weeks I’ve done. Which is super easy when I have the Weeks and Days numbered right under the date. Julia Cameron recommends this in the Artist’s Way and it’s super helpful. Thank you, Julia.

Set your alarm

Spend a few days getting used to getting up a little earlier. For some this is super easy. For others like myself, not so much. (In college I was the one who bought the Shake Awake insert-in-the pillowcase-shaking alarm clock that didn’t even wake me up.) These days I can do it if my body is used to it. So giving myself a few days to ease into the earlier wake time is super helpful. I like to make sure my coffee is set up the night before and anything else I might need to make my morning easy. For me that includes nothing I will trip over or need to move to get to my writing chair. Loud noises will wake the sleeping ones. It’s all about waking up in time to have the house to myself before my kids (4 and 8 years old) wake up. And in time to have my sacred writing time before I begin all the things of the day (making breakfast and lunches etc.) So set your alarm so your have time to write in peace before starting all your life things. The magic of morning pages is that it’s the first thing.

Go back to school shopping

I love buying back to school supplies. Starting morning pages has that same back to school feeling. A new beginning. I’m not saying obsess about finding the perfect pen. Any old pen will do. But if you don’t have a pen with ink in it you’re morning pages will be less pleasant. For me, if I have a PaperMate Ink Joy pen that’s full of juicy, flowing ink I am on a roll. I love the way my writing practically writes itself. If I have to drag a pen across the page you better believe I am not going to be writing as freely. (For what it’s worth, I am in the market for a new pen. I hate how quickly the Ink Joys die and the amount of plastic is disheartening. I’m going to reassess. In the meantime, my InkJoy does the trick.) Since I gave myself a few days before jumping into my morning pages, I had the time to prepare my supplies. I ordered a new 5 subject spiral notebook from Amazon and picked up a pack of new InkJoy pens when I was in CVS. Make sure you have your paper and pen all set and ready to go.

Beginning morning pages is one of the best things I’ve ever done for myself. The magic that happens in my life when I am doing morning pages is astounding. I’ll share more about that as this journey unfolds. Tomorrow is Week 1 Day 3 for me, so I’m still getting in the groove. And you, as my reader, may already feel the difference in my posts here. More water in my creative well. So a big congratulations to you for considering this path. Wishing you all the best on your morning pages journey!

Said the butterfly

These three words mean so much to me. They’ve been calling me. Reminding me. So for today I will share the quote that contains these words. These words have led me so many places.

“Just living is not enough,” said the butterfly. “ One must of sunshine, freedom and a little flower.” -Hans Christian Andersen

One Wildflower

Oh the power

Of one wildflower

In the middle

Of everything

The same

-Melissa Renzi

2003

Torrance, CA

This is one of those lines that I used to think was the beginning of something. Tonight I realized it’s complete. As a poem. Liberating. Good night.

Pause

Take a moment to pause. That’s what I did this afternoon and evening. Finally. That’s what I’m doing right now. Will be back to regularly scheduled programming tomorrow, minus the regularly and the scheduled.

This Is the Dance

Sitting at my kitchen table

Will I write a fable?

Or will it be a romance?

Will I take a chance?

Will I dance?

Even when I’m so aware 

Of my skin and bones?

Maiden, mother, crone

Past, present, future

My heart wide open

So much wishin’ and hopin’

Praying for peace

I surrender the war within

More compassion for all my kin

Waving a white flag

Unpacking all my bags

Letting go and lightening the load

Ah I see

This is an ode

An ode to making peace with me

To shining a light on the peace in you

The Love that you are

The Love that I am

The Love that we are

I am taking a chance

This is the dance

-Melissa Renzi

June 24, 2021

Amherst, MA

This I Know

Aaah the rain

So soothing on my brain

As it falls

My life calls

I rest in the moment

I answer the hint

Piecing together all the clues

The magic and the mystery

The here and the history

Cool air in through the window

A distant bird sings

I wonder

How wide are its wings

Where will it fly?

Where will I fly?

Will I discover my wingspan?

Will I look back in awe 

At all the dreams after which I ran?

And here in this now

As the rain takes its bow

The curtain closes

I rise up and cheer

Oh dear, oh dear

This is your year

This is your day

This is your now sweet now

Summer rain falls

Soul flowers grow

This I know

-Melissa Renzi

June 22, 2021

Amherst, MA

Writing My Life Like a Poem

I am tired

I need to come down

After too long being wired

Being on and in charge of all the things

The whole circus and all of its rings

And inside my heart sings

I feel my wings wanting to fly

Craving more freedom

Wanting the sky

And yet I need sleep

Dreams and the deep sea

To dive into the nothingness

And the everything

Wide awake

Ready for life’s adventures and advances

Dances with steps and without

Stairways spiraling up, up and away

Hey! Hey!

And May is the month of beginnings and ends

The road is straight and then it bends

And the why and the how and the what

And some things are just a pain in the butt

I am not in a rut

I am high in a hut

Looking down at my life

As mother and wife

As artist and dreamer

Writing my life like a poem

One line

At a time

-Melissa Renzi

Amherst, MA

June 22, 2021

Postcard from Paris

I am writing this postcard to myself from Paris. I just came from the Picasso museum and am inspired more than ever to write and paint. May this be a reminder to you, dear Melissa, no matter what happens in your life you are not being your full self without acting, fully, on these parts of you.

August 10, 2005

Paris France

Melissa Renzi

This postcard hangs on the wall by the chair where I write in my journal. I have it framed. It’s a postcard of Picasso sitting at a dinner table with bread rolls positioned to look like his hands. It’s silly and playful. It’s framed with 5 Euros with a silver heart that says Paris on it. (The sticker originally came on a little candle and somehow it came off and onto my Euro. I think I heard having 5 Euros in your wallet was good luck. I’ll have to revisit those journals to get the full scoop from my 2005 self.) There’s also my metro card in the frame including my photo ID that went with it, stuck to the corner of the orange metro card. It’s a time capsule of who I was then and a reminder of who I am. Once for a job I had to answer a Q and A. They asked me my favorite place. I said, “Paris. It reminds me who I am.” Having this postcard by my side as I write is both so grounding and so liberating. I spend many a moment reading it and rereading it. Examining it for clues of my truth. A touchstone. “A visual statement of bravery,” as Gemma would say.

What reminds you of who you are? Is there a specific place? Is there a visual symbol somewhere in your home? If so, yes! Go check in and remember. If not, pay attention to when, where and with who you feel most alive. Can you visualize this somehow? Can you write yourself a postcard? Your full self is waiting for you to remember. The world is waiting, too.

I love you Dad

Today I saw you through a little FaceTime window on my iPhone. Next year I will see you in person. I love you and treasure you.

This short and sweet post brought to you by an act of self-care. It is bedtime. Soon I will write more and share more and now I must sleep.

Juneteenth

Days like this are the days that are hardest for me to post. Like I feel like I should know so much more than I do about this. So I will show up today and be vulnerable and courageous and share that I really want to learn more about Juneteenth. My intention is to learn more about the black history that is the history of our country. To share it with my children. To read it. To listen to it to watch it. To go to the museums. To not protect my children from the hard things. To expose them to their privilege and make them part of the solution. To not perform and instead to promise to learn more, do more.

God’s Paintbrush

Hush hush

What’s the rush?

Perhaps the job of the artist is to see

The glory of the artistry all around

Slow down

Where are you going?

What I need from you is a slowing

A slowing down, to observe nature’s crown

The majesty around you

The majesty within

You have all the tools

Darling, remember your jewels

Inner pools

In Praise of Typos

When I imagined starting this blog I imagined an idyllic world where I would have dedicated time to craft meaningful essays. I planned on long days swimming in the sprawling expanse of my 25 years of old journals. So far that imagination has not quite come true. Instead a reality that isn’t quite so perfect but beautifully human.

So far this blog process, where I’ve posted almost every single day since May 3, so that’s over six weeks, has really been a true reflection of me. Some days I don’t have much to say. Other days I could go on forever. Some days I’m ready to reveal The most sacred poetry of my heart. Other days I just need to write about laundry mountain as it stares me in the face.

sometimes a post is lovingly crafted during a Pomodoro session with my dear friend David on the other line doing his work. And sometimes it’s when I’m sitting in the car waiting to pick up my son from camp, and I parked the car under the one shady tree and I am dictating into the phone. That sometimes happens to be right now.

I am showing up in a way that is true for me and true changes every day. Even though I am who I am at a core level, the outward manifestation changes. It feels good to be true to that instead of forcing myself to ramp up to some expectation of what I want my world facing self to look like.

Perfectionism has no place here. It tries to creep in but I give it an air kiss and shut the door gently and its face.

So you may see some typos once in a while. In fact you may see them every time. In my career as a creative Director I loved saying that a typo had to do with trust. Like if there were typos you just wouldn’t be trusted as much. And I do believe that when it’s a national healthcare Enterprise where I worked at one point. Or on a months long concepted marketing campaign for a health and wellness brand. Yeah in those cases typos don’t look so good. But really there is a time and place for everything. And here on this blog, and this little world of mine, I welcome the typos. In fact I embrace them. They help me show up more often. They help me tell my perfectionist that it’s OK to be human and not perfect. That really there are no mistakes.

if I was really more concerned about typos I probably would have only posted about six times so far, that would be once a week. Those would be beautiful posts. Instead I would so much rather be true than beautiful. I think there is such an authentic power in truth. So here I am, being me. In fact, truth is beautiful,

how do you feel about typos? And I hope by now you’ve come to view typos as really the very human imperfections that we all have. How am I using perfectionism as a excuse to not do the thing I dream of? The voice that tells me it needs to be perfect so I can’t even try. Well guess what, I welcome the imperfections, the typos, the stutters.

what would you do if you knew you didn’t need to be perfect? What treasures of your heart would you share with the world? What would you say even if you didn’t have the perfect words to say it? I encourage you to get out there and show up. Typos and all.

The Last Thing

This is the last thing I’m doing today. What would happen if it was the first thing? One day I’ll find out. That day will not be here tomorrow or soon.

what’s the last thing you’re doing today? What’s the first thing you’ll do tomorrow?

Day’s End

Yesterday was the first time I didn’t post. I didn’t even realize it until I was in bed. I decided to draft something in my head then post it. It was going to be called, “Beyond Capacity.” About how I didn’t have anything left to give in this day. Then my heart caught myself. And told me to go to sleep. To stay true to my need for sleep over the need to post everyday. My commitment to post daily is still strong. AND I am in an everchanging chapter where school meets summer and so much more.