Inosculation, a natural wonder, encapsulates the extraordinary process where parts of two distinct trees, often of the same species but not exclusively, grow together, forming an intimate bond through self-grafting and the sharing of life-sustaining nutrients. This botanical phenomenon, with roots in Latin—ōsculārī, meaning “to kiss”—brings to life a narrative of mutual support, resilience, and interconnectedness in the realm of nature. from – Nature’s Eternal Embrace: The Extraordinary Bond of Inosculation
I started writing circles with the desire to reach just a few, share my flashlight, and listen with compassion. The last four years have brought your voices on the breeze, across seas stanzas sailed, flew and walked themselves beyond boundaries. I have heard your hearts. Throughout my facilitating of writing circles I have witnessed authentic sharing and heartfelt listening. I believe the practice of writing and reflecting together is a powerful agent of change. At an event I attended recently Mark Nepo said, “Global humanity’s health depends on healthy souls keeping the literacy of the heart alive.” This resonated with me. Let’s come together and do this in the writing circle.
Are you curious about exploring possibilities through poems? Are you seeking a sisterhood to write and reflect? Are you wanting a loving space to purposefully pause?
Listening for Possibility – Writing Circle Series With Ali
Three Saturdays: January 25, February 8, February 22, 2025 9:30 – 11:00 am PDT on Zoom
During each session we will listen to poems and each other, listen inward for the needs of the heart and explore the doors we want to open next.
This group will be held to six participants to allow deep listening and sharing.
“When we try to pick out anything by itself, we find it hitched to everything else in the universe.” – John Muir
As I dug deeply down to tuck you in safely, one by one, in softness, grounded for growth with care and wishes for your survival. (Awareness of my lack of qualifications and experience crowded into the activity like a boisterous neighbor who wasn’t invited. “This won’t work. You don’t know what you’re doing.”)
As I put my shovel away, I am thinking about internal resistance. My resistance to planting, to bothering with placing all of you in the earth. My head saying, “You’re doing it wrong. You will be disappointed.” My heart replying, “Let’s try. I need to wonder.”
Now I am pondering, curious actually, what would it be like to live without a belief in planting. Realizing I already know. I have been there and don’t want to go back.
I am seeding a future I cannot see. I am planting hope in the dark cold of winter. This includes garlic cloves and my belief in loving action to grow the next. Stepping into the unknowable with a curious heart that knows it doesn’t always work out and planting it anyway.
Later that day I found three more cloves in my pocket. Three that escaped planting day. Their potential is not lost. I will find time to tuck them to bed too.
“Noticing you’ve lost your balance is part of finding it again. Recognizing (and normalizing) imbalance is part of rebalancing.” – Lea Seigen Shinraku
Check out Lea’s free Love Yourself Now With Art Journaling Workshop on October 6 HERE.
Rebalancing
when she noticed her tilt an unequal stance leaning toward tumble
she was lucky enough to remember and send herself love to reorient, instead of judgement
when the rainstorm arrived she welcomed it without resistance befriending her tipping vessel
rebalancing was just part of living she could find her way drenched, as well as, dry
I have found writing with others to be a beautiful way to rebalance. Join me for an upcoming circle of poems, writing, and reflective listening. Email to register at coaching@aligrimshaw.com
Sometimes
the light turns red before we have left the intersection
leaving our tail end vulnerable
sometimes
our brakes don’t work, spinning on black ice with
blurred windows of reaction
sometimes
we must go slowly, inching through the fog in faith
blinded by dense thoughts
sometimes
breakdowns leave us on the rainy roadside
unpacking resourcefulness
sometimes
forgiveness shows up like an invitation
an off-ramp never seen before
sometimes
we just need to stay on the road
grip and steer
This was written in 2019 and still resonates with me today. This driving metaphor definitely places me in a car-centered culture. Each of us is navigating our way through the day. Be kind and assume the best intentions of others.
Join a welcoming group of poets for Open Link Night -dVerse Poets’ Pub HERE.
I took this photo in Lisbon, Spain. Such a fun curve in the street.
She led me to the library, fed stories to my ears taught me how to keep the family blood circulating to pull my shoulders back, stand proud
she showed me laughter around the table camping in cold rain, beauty beyond lipstick the effective use of stubborn determination
she made a million meals without consideration flowered apron ready dinners with a smile Did she even enjoy cooking? I don't remember anyone asking her.
She washed clothes, replacing them in drawers a revolving door of dirty to clean just another behind the scenes devotion.
How much did we notice the way she kept the boat afloat watching for leaks while we slept.
I first learned about a dazzle of zebras on a trip to Kenya in 2023. What a great word. This poem led me down a rabbit hole to learn more about the history of collective nouns. Here is a fun article if you are curious, A Shrewdness of Apes? Collective Nouns Are a 500-Year-Old Language Fad
Join a welcoming community of poets at dVerse Poets' Pub, HERE. Tonight's challenge - write a quadrille using the word blaze.
Within the writing circle, I use poems as prompts. Each person is invited to let their words fall onto the page. During a recent gathering, we wrote from Kim Russell’s poem, Just Saying. It was the perfect poem to jump from. Thank you, Kim.
In celebration of two people who recently tried the writing circle for the first time I am sharing their poems. It takes courage to share your voice and hear it reflected back to you. Thank you to Tandy and Frannie.
It’s not just a thought. It’s the feelings and hope of a new tomorrow. It’s not just a dream. It’s the past remembered, re-created, and processed to form the future. It’s not just a memory it’s all the memories that come together from the depth of the soul and leave a mark on the world. It’s not just me. It’s everyone who has come before me and everyone who will come after to continue the circle.
By Tandy Wolf
It is not just a memory it is the past awaking in the mind time long and short ago sorted and squished into shapes and colors and whispers to ignite present feelings.
It is not just bird songs but wafts of melodious sounds carried on a spring breeze swirling and drifting into a grateful consciousness.
flashlight batteries - Ali Grimshaw 