Summer 2020

“When I dare to be powerful, to use my strength in the service of my vision, then it becomes less and less important whether I am afraid.” 
              ~ Audre Lorde

Yet again
 
            ~ teresa burns gunther
 
Yet again.
Authority
A badge.
A knee grinds
hate on a black neck.
Another day. Another lynching.
 
Yet again.
Authority.
A White House reeking, poluted.
Another hateful tweet.
Another call to violence.
Mother Liberty trembles.
 
Yet again.
Abuse of power.
A toady senate. 
Criminal Injustice 
Another day. Another murder.
 
Yet again.
A silent majority.
Brainwashed.
Tribal.
Divided.
We all fall down.

The cold and brutal murder of George Floyd, a president tweeting hate, a lurking coronavirus, anarchists polluting peaceful protests, an economy in freefall have pulled the rug out from under all of us. I met Amy Cooper, a one woman lesson on the exploitation of racism, in what I heard as a cautionary tale by a writer in one of my workshops last week. Since I try to only check the news on Mondays and Fridays (part of my mental health regimen), I didn’t know that this horror was a real event. These events tipped me over. My heart hurts, I’m furious, easily exasperated, tears are easy.     Thankfully, I am a writer. I have the gift of a ready means of righting  myself in my despair, fear, and anger, by picking up my pen, every day. I’m writing rants, in prose and poems.

What I know is that it is necessary for us, as writers, to keep our pens moving,  through this troubled time. It is important that we carve writing time out of our shelter-in-place days, that we channel our worry, fear, frustration, grief and anger into language. Whether meeting the trouble head-on, or by turning away to focus on the beauty of our corner of the world, to paint it with words in a poem, or a scene in a story.

If you feel stymied, try starting with a rant. In times like this, it can clear our minds by pouring the swirling thoughts and feelings onto the page, and make room for new ideas, other words. Have you written your pandemic poem? You might begin with: First you have to… OR What surprised be most…..  Have you written about what scares you most in this moment. Try starting with:
What I never expected… OR It started when… OR Once, I believed….

Being in the company of Lakeshore Writers these past months, sharing our work, or discussing manuscripts and the craft of writing, has inspired me in my own work. And although we’ll be limited to meeting on Zoom for the foreseeable future, it’s a comfort to come together in this virtual creative space, if only for a few hours a week. I am grateful for your fine company on this journey.

I’m taking a few weeks off to complete my own work. New workshops begin the week of June 21st. (See the schedule below. They are already filling up, so be in touch to grab a spot.) The manuscript workshop is moving from Wednesday to Tuesday evenings–for those wanting feedback on work in progress. The  two on-line generative workshops will continue on Wednesday morning and Thursday afternoon. I also have a spot open for a one-on-one developmental editing/coaching client.

Be safe, stay well, find hope in each moment of beauty, love and grace. Remember: titrate your exposure to the news. It’s seeks only to inspire your “Oh Shit!” nervous response. Read poetry instead. Spend time outside, find a wild flower in a crack of pavement, listen for the call of a song sparrow, watch a child paint, take a walk and hunt out everything red, or yellow, or orange….

It is necessary, now more than ever, to gather beauty, to count our blessings, to take notes.

Love, light, peace,
Teresa

Power at its best is love implementing the demands of justice.

Justice at its best is love correcting everything that stands against love.

~ Martin Luther King, Jr.