Adrienne Rich died today. I have not read too much of her, but I should. This piece of the poem "Integrity" is how I have been feeling lately. Torn. Working to bring it together. To make it beautiful, even though it's painful.
I asked to open myself up a bit in the last few months. Was feeling a little stagnant. Remember what you asked for in these moments. Now I feel change. I feel the hurt of growth and of being challenged by my own demons which feel to be opposed to who I want to be. She says it best here though. I'll let her speak...
and tenderness: my selves.
And now I can believe they breathe in me
as angels, not polarities.
Anger and tenderness: the spider's genius
to spin and weave in the same action
from her own body, anywhere --
even from a broken web."