June 11th of last year was the 30th anniversary of the death of my friend Curtis in a car accident.
As part of my healing process, I set out on a “deliberate journey of the soul,” to clean out whatever vestiges of internal emotional and psychological damage that might be stopping me from living a full life. I trusted that if I thought again about Curtis, I would learn something valuable about myself. And as a writer and artist, I knew that I would express myself in appropriate and meaningful ways. In this series, I share the things I’ve learned, and the writing I’ve done and my output has been greater than I could ever have imagined when I began this journey.
Last June, I used the internet to look up the man who was my high school boyfriend at the time of the accident.. He was actually driving the car when it happened. I spoke to him on the phone and I learned that a summer storm hit that day, causing his car to hydroplane into the path of a tractor trailer.
“I always thought you hit a pothole,” I said.
“No,” he answered, “It was a summer storm.”
The phrase struck me. It was a summer storm, a quick-moving expression of energy, in most cases giving life to the parched plants and grass, but in this instance taking life away. “This is a study in opposites,” I thought.
The day after our conversation, as I was still mulling these things over in my mind, I noticed that it was getting dark outside. A storm was coming.
I opened my kitchen door, sat on the floor, and looked outside. I experienced a strange peacefulness and deep awareness. The storm brought fresh air, deep orchestral rumbles, and the lovely sound of raindrops hitting the tree leaves.
A poem came to me and I quickly wrote it down. I called it, of course, “Summer Storm.”
In it, I spoke to the storm: “Summer storm with winds so sure, What have you to do with me? What on earth to do with me?”
Then, in the middle: “Keep on driving, summer storm, Far along and way past me.”
And most astonishing, the last lines: “I can live with comfort now, I can live in comfort now, Live and love with comfort now, No more bother, let me be.”
The echo, of course, is of John Lennon’s immortal words, “Let it be.”
This poem consists of several even paragraphs, which is unusual for me, because I usually write in blank verse. There are subtle, yet meaningful variations in the lines as the poem goes on. When I looked at it on the page, it seemed like lyrics to a song, so I sent it to a composer friend to ask if she might be interested in setting it to music.
It astonished me that these words flowed so easily from me–it’s evidence of a soul-shift. My reality and expectations shifted from expectation of tragedy to experiencing comfort and having no need of continuing to experience disaster. That is the inscrutable miracle of healing through the arts. If you try, it happens, and if you allow yourself to cry, it happens.
People often ask me how healing happens and I’m a big advocate of using inquiry, both internal and external, to bring on spurts of self-expression. The alchemy happens in that process of inquiry and understanding. That is hard work. I found that I can actually track the healing by looking closely at the writing and artwork which flows from me.
I’ve printed the poem below. I hope that you, too, can perceive my soul-shift, and then experience your own
Summer Storm
Summer storm with winds so sure,
Summer storm with rain so pure,
Summer storm with winds so sure,
What have you to do with me?
Summer storm with winds so sure,
Summer storm with winds so sure,
Summer storm with rain so pure,
What on earth to do with me?
Summer storm with winds so sure,
Robins perch with drooping wings.
Summer storm, your winds so sure,
What have you to do with me?
Keep on driving, summer winds,
Drive along, you summer rain,
Keep on driving, summer winds,
Keep on driving, way past me.
Drive along, you summer storm
Keep on driving, summer winds,
On and on, you summer storm,
No more need to bother me.
Keep on driving, summer winds,
Drive along, you summer rain,
Keep on driving, summer storm,
Far along and way past me.
I am dry with comfort now,
Dry enough with comfort now,
I can live in comfort now,
No more need to bother me.
I can live with comfort now,
I can live in comfort now,
Live and love with comfort now,
No more bother, let me be.
By Anne Hamilton © 2009 All rights reserved
Tags: grief, guilt, hope
