"I turn in the direction of the sun and keep walking"
Farewell, 2023. Hello, 2024.
“This Morning I Pray for My Enemies” is the poem-prayer I am ending the year with. Joy Harjo’s speaker is concerned with the identity of her enemy. It is a whom, a person. We readers only receive one qualification for what constitutes “enemy”—they must be worthy of engagement.
Just as quickly as she approaches the precipice of her question, Harjo turns away. She is no longer in an ethical quandary. She is calmly on the move. She orients her body, sunward, walking.
Emotion and intellect are partners of discernment, and yet they must be engaged in the proper order: “The door to the mind should only open from the heart.” Her heart hears her “furious mind,” but never indulges it. The gnashing would seem to endanger the blessing, but Harjo holds both, together, at a remove.
With the heart as the mind’s wise guardian, Harjo avoids damning her enemy out of hand. She always reserves the right to allow the risk of love to perform one of life’s true magic tricks—turning an enemy into a friend.
The world is full of plausible, righteous enemies. But what if I call my self enemy? The self surely is worthy. She has any number of enviable and undesirable qualities, seeds and weeds. My mind can be endlessly combative, hiding from my heart in fright.
Although my mind is not who I am, learning to tell the difference between self and not-self is the work of a lifetime. Planting an unbreakable love for myself will always be an ongoing project. Yet, Harjo points me on the path. If I am worthy of engaging in a fight, I am worthy of befriending. I can turn away from the wrestle, feel into my heart, and get my legs moving.
Walking toward the sun is where I want to be.
If you’re over on Instagram, you’ll see my ongoing textile obsession. I have five fiber projects going right now. On Threads I asked how people became involved in their fiber art of choice, and I think you’d be absolutely delighted by the stories people shared about learning to sew.
This is a really tender part of the year. I hope you have what you need and loved ones to share it with. If not, I’m sending cheer your way. See you in the new year!
Love, love. Your embroidery, thoughts, and THAT POEM. Wow. Farewelll and Hello!