Katie Steedly’s first-person piece [The Unspeakable Gift] is a riveting retelling of her participation in a National Institutes of Health study that aided her quest to come to grips with her life of living with a rare genetic disorder. Her writing is superb.
In recognition of receiving the Dateline Award for the Washingtonian Magazine essay, The Unspeakable Gift.
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Taking A Walk #16
Taking a walk with Ada Limón
Instructions on Not Giving Up
Patient, plodding, a green skin/ growing over whatever winter did to us, a return/ to the strange idea of continuous living despite/ the mess of us, the hurt, the empty. From Ada Limon’s “Instructions on Not Giving Up“
I want to say a few words about continuous living amidst the mess, the hurt, the empty, the empty, the angry. the awful. Falling apart and back together is all about living in the mess. When the mess is too much, count the shades of green outside your door. Even right now. When the mess is too much, play with a puppy. When the mess is too much, find a fragrant tree and take 10 deep breaths. When the mess is too much, create something. When the mess is too much, stand in the sunshine and let warmth wash over you. When the mess is too much, give something away. When the mess is too much, watch bees dance with flowers. When the mess is too much, plant something. When the mess is too much, feel warm raindrops. When the mess is too much, try something new. There is beauty in making it through the mess all together.
Wonder Woman
She strutted by in all her strength and glory, invincible, eternal, and when I stood to clap (because who wouldn’t have),/ she bowed and posed like she knew I needed a myth—/ a woman, by a river, indestructible.” — from Ada Limón’s “Wonder Woman“
At the end of my life, I want to feel like Wonder Woman. I would not mind feeling like Wonder Woman right now, but feeling like Wonder Woman even later in life would be amazing. The squeaks and groans, creaks and jolts, rasps and rubs have already started. The sound of the steamboats lingers in my memory. The memory of river mud lingers between my toes. I learned early on that river fog often clears by noon, river sounds haunt at night, the river runs faster in the springtime. Raised in a river town, you don’t forget the river.
The Last Thing
I know/ you don’t always understand,/ but let me point to the first/ wet drops landing on the stones,/ the noise like fingers drumming/ the skin. I can’t help it. I will/ never/ get over making everything/ such a big deal. — from Ada Limon’s “The Last Thing“
I make things a big deal. Over and over again, I pay attention and notice and reflect. Let me explain. I believe our capacity to experience awe is holy. I believe our ability to feel joy is a blessing. I believe our ability to love is divine. I believe making a big deal and taking up oxygen and space and time is essential. I believe making a bid deal is living exactly they way we are supposed to live — with intention, purpose, integrity, honesty, and love. Within all that, even the smallest of deals are big deals.
Thank you for taking a walk with me. Subscribe to the Wide-Awakeness Project to take more walks and find life’s poetry.
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About Katie

From Louisville. Live in Atlanta. Curious by nature. Researcher by education. Writer by practice. Grateful heart by desire.
Buy the Book!
The Stage Is On Fire, a memoir about hope and change, reasons for voyaging, and dreams burning down can be purchased on Amazon.
