Bad Medicine

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There was a time I needed to feel safe.
So, I would just be the Italian, Eurasion or Greek.
It was better to be whatever I wasn’t
because anything was better than pain.

I didn’t have my grandmother’s arms to hold me
while she told me where we came from.
I didn’t have my grandmother’s words to tell me who
We are.

Her children went outward and got lost in the White Sea
with only glimpses of shining glory, such short moments,
but mostly they got knocked around and then down,
till the medicine could numb them, and set them free.

Some moved from drowning the sorrows, and doing what we were told,
but I learned the voices in my head weren’t the ones in my heart.
My grandmother’s voice now comes through; she’s been whispering the stories.
that the hurt of the years stood in the way of, for so long.

She’s been telling me to stand up,  to remember and learn who we are.
She’s saying use your voice to teach.
Use your voice to reach the hearts of the other lost.
Let them know they’re not alone, show them lies are not real.

Learn for them; then show them the ways through that White Sea.

It’s OK to not be only safe.

Staying hidden is another bad medicine.

Eagle on perch

RL

Photo credit: Jim Wong Photography

35 thoughts on “Bad Medicine”

  8. This was absolutely beautiful. Your words reminded me of something I’ve long taken for granted. I did have my grandmother’s arms to hold me as she told me about our background and heritage and I cherished those times. In fact, she’s been gone a long time and on my mind a lot lately. Your words are a beautiful tribute, thank you for sharing them. Your grandma would be proud.

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  9. Powerful words! I love to how your grandmother, your female lineage- continues to call to you to remember. I look forward to hearing what else you have to say the more you come out of hiding. xo

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    • Thank you, so much for your words. It’s taken me awhile, but I learned to hear my heart songs by turning off my thoughts, by what most of us call meditation. I’ve come to understand that what drives the heart from a place of quiet, is also pretty effective at re-setting thought processes to propel action in line with the greater purpose.

      Let me caution though, I’m nowhere near 100% return on the effort yet. I definitely still learn by mistakes too! 😀

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  11. Such a shameful part of our history, and the struggle continues for those whose history was stolen from them. I visited the fascinating Navaho Museum in New Mexico and learned so much…my favorite is the First Laugh tradition. If you are reading this, look it up–it’s a very beautiful custom. Thanks for the moving words, Blog Woman. Well said.

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    • Thank you ermigal! I had to laugh, when I realized I put a reply to someone else on your comment. If you saw it, you’d likely thought I’d lost a marble or two.
      I will absolutely look up that First Laugh tradition, and thank you for coming by and sharing this with me. You are the best.

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  13. WOW! This is AMAZING! It gave me goosebumps! And the part about using your voice to teach and reach the hearts of the other ones lost was just so… YOU! That’s exactly what you do here on your blog and you do it so well! Just one of the many reasons why I love you! ❤

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  14. Great poem. It makes me feel a little guilty about what my ancestors did to yours. I hope you can push your heritage into the future without it drowning in the sea of bland popular culture.

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    • Thanks Trent, but don’t feel guilt, please. Empathy is a more helpful path. It tends to move us all forward in more positive ways and actions.
      I think we are on our way as a culture now. The advent of social media has given us a voice like at no other time. There will be plenty of bumps on the road, I’m sure, but the momentum has begun.

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    • Oh, the honor is mine, Michael. It just takes awhile for me to get through the posts of whom I’m following and onto my own newest followers. I’m glad I finally made it to your site.
      -Robyn

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