20 Comments
Jun 1, 2022Liked by Courtney Martin

As I go careening in slow motion towards my 75th birthday, I get your poem better than anything else this morning. Poems are the most direct form of communications with the aging mind. Thank you.

Expand full comment
Jun 1, 2022Liked by Courtney Martin

I REALLY felt the line "Aging is a long, drawn out experiment in being wrong about how you will live, who you will be". I've been thinking about this a lot as I'm full on in my 30s now-- growing up/getting older feels a lot more like letting go of the picture I had for my life and for the what the world would be like now, and imagining a new one. That is incredibly empowering and also pretty exhausting if I'm honest about it. Loved this poem, it was a moment I needed today.

Expand full comment
Jun 1, 2022Liked by Courtney Martin

Lovely.

As I get older, I become more able to say NO, to know what my body wants and needs and to shush the sounds of past voices telling me I don't deserve, don't need, shouldn't want. I am also learning to say YES: I do deserve. I do want. I do need. And I CAN have and do and experience and love and be good to myself.

Expand full comment
Jun 1, 2022Liked by Courtney Martin

This feels painfully true:

I am worse than I thought 

and also better.

Humanity, too.

Expand full comment
Jun 1, 2022Liked by Courtney Martin

Thank you for sharing this gem Courtney! As I get older I appreciate the little things that I might have taken for granted when younger. Such as feeding a baby just this morning and noticing his four little fingers wrapped around my whole thumb—priceless!

Expand full comment
Jun 2, 2022Liked by Courtney Martin

Thank you for sharing your poem, Courtney. The last lines are especially wonderfulI-taking nothing for granted.

I remind myself of my humanity/vulnerability by saying, "I have 0 - 15 good years left. Anything after 80 is gravy." (Now "officially" a senior citizen:)

It makes it easier to prioritize time and energy and attention. (Who do I want to spend it with, and how?)

Glad to know I'm not the only one touching trees :)

Expand full comment
Jun 1, 2022Liked by Courtney Martin

I love this. Its an amazing thing when a writer knows how you are feeling better than your own brain. Thank you for words. I feel aging in my breath, in my mind, in what I want and my planning to make it happen.

Now Im off to touch some trees.

Expand full comment
Jun 1, 2022Liked by Courtney Martin

how important spring is

the joy in bird song

how much love I have for those I do not know

how much love hurts

Expand full comment
Jun 1, 2022Liked by Courtney Martin

Gorgeous. And it sends us off with such a difficult and worthy directive:

and try not to let any of it

tragic or tender

feel inevitable.

Expand full comment
Jun 1, 2022Liked by Courtney Martin

Poetry when it is needed -- the best! At 75, I notice everything about trees and draw strength from them.

Expand full comment
Jun 1, 2022Liked by Courtney Martin

Sorry, Courtney, but whatever you write or say, I will NEVER think of you as being debilitated in any way by aging: because I've never had a more irrepressible, energetic and brilliantly gifted student or friend! Of course, the traumatic effects of this repeated, hideous violence hit us as hard as any we've experienced. Yet, you are now, and will surely remain in the future, as a force of nature to uplift and inspire all those who know and love you. You may always count me as among them. DD

Expand full comment

Stunning. Perfect.

Expand full comment

This is so beautiful! Yes to all of it.

Expand full comment

Very much how I'm feeling this morning. Thanks for this :)

Expand full comment

That’s utterly perfect. Thanks.

Expand full comment

At 40, I notice now more than ever~

Moon phase changes.

Myself in others.

That which connects us moreso than

that which separates us.

Dough elasticity.

My inner voice.

Strength in vulnerability

and flexibility.

That life is hard

and beautiful

and awful

and full of wonder.

That even when you think the answer will be a hard 'no', ask anyway. You'd be surprised how many times you'll get an enthusiastic 'yes'.

A couple weeks ago I asked my neighbor if I could liberate the sidewalk tree in front of their house, which to me seemed sad from growing in the sidewalk with less than a foot of exposed soil extending in any direction from thier foot-and-a-half wide trunk. He gave the okay and within an hour I'd used prybar, sledge, and desire to remove a few square feet of concrete (permits be damned!) from Beech's foot. The very last piece of concrete was pressed tight up against Beech and when I pried it up, I removed a decent piece of bark. "I'm sorry!" I said out loud to this being that I hurt when my intention was only to help. I hugged Beech, scooped a barrow full of home-made compost and dumped many buckets of water on the exposed soil around her, then tucked her in with a good layer of mulch.

Tree hugs and extra bread slices. Hell yes.

Expand full comment