Mending 8: surrender
Welcome to mending, a monthly haven where words meet inner wisdom, and stories intertwine with the art of health and healing.
At the heart of Narrative Medicine is a belief in the power of the human story. Words, among other human expressions, have the ability to enlighten and connect us to our most vulnerable or even seemingly insignificant moments in life.
These moments speak volumes to the richness of our humanity. And in sharing your words you support the production of neurochemicals like dopamine and oxytocin that activate your body’s healing potential and your brain’s capacities to overcome challenges in ways that cannot be understated.
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Your expression is where we find the intersection of Narrative Medicine and Functional Nutrition: in the recognition that everything is connected, we are all unique, and all things matter.
Each monthly issue of mending is a journey into a landscape of words, healing, and personal interpretation. They will be inspired by the gentle wisdom of poets and artists and the reflective insights of our guest contributors.
Why does this matter? Because in the riddle of healthcare, amidst the supposed precision of diagnoses and treatments, the human story often whispers, seeking to be heard. mending leans in and listens to these whispers. It invites you to do the same for yourself.
It’s time to explore the depths of your own narrative and the fabric of your human condition, beyond your signs and symptoms, or maybe in concert with them. Join me as we weave together threads of empathy, inquiry, and understanding. mending is more than a newsletter— it’s a dialogue, and initiation, and a celebration of the stories that make us human, illuminating their integral role in our paths toward healing.
Mending 8: surrender with Florence Williams
Heart to Heart
by Rita Dove
It’s neither red
nor sweet.
It doesn’t melt
or turn over,
break or harden,
so it can’t feel
pain,
yearning,
regret.
It doesn’t have
a tip to spin on,
it isn’t even
shapely—
just a thick clutch
of muscle,
lopsided,
mute. Still,
I feel it inside
its cage sounding
a dull tattoo:
I want, I want—
but I can’t open it:
there’s no key.
I can’t wear it
on my sleeve,
or tell you from
the bottom of it
how I feel. Here,
it’s all yours, now—
but you’ll have
to take me,
too.
Question: Which line in this poem was most evocative for you? Why?
Contributor Answer: There are so many evocative lines here but the one that makes me vibrate a bit is “but you’ll have to take me.” It gets to the core of surrender - a beautiful word for a beautiful concept. To fully inhabit our emotions, whether for our own benefit or in relationship to someone else, we must give up some of our defenses. We must admit that we are not perfect, or always well, or always sane, or always loveable. We must make our offerings anyway and hope they will be received. Ultimately, it’s this surrender that makes us counterintuitively more loveable, and more able to love.
Reader: Which line in the poem was most evocative for you? Why?
Writing Prompt: Write about giving something of yourself to someone else.
Contributor Response: It’s interesting I got this prompt because this is something that is difficult for me, at least in the context of romantic relationships. Less so for me in being a mother, which is, after all, one of the great blessings of parenthood. I was very ambivalent about becoming a mother. I knew I would have to give up many things I care about on a daily basis: free time, creative hours, a clean house, and I suspected that I would be giving up more things than my spouse. Maybe, deeply, I was also doubtful that I could be a great parent. But the minute my son was born, all that fell away and was just replaced by…love. Amazement. A thread connecting me to life and to the universe in a way I never imagined. I have no doubt this giving up a bit of myself at the altar of something so vast and universal made me a better person in every way, but not always a better partner. So there’s the rub. I’m still working on that!
“Reader: Now it’s your turn! Write to the prompt: write about giving something of yourself to someone else.”
Reader: Reader: Now it’s your turn! Feel free to hit ‘reply’, set your timer for 5 minutes, and write to the prompt: write about giving something of yourself to someone else.
You can also send your responses and feedback to scribe@andreanakayama.com
Guest contributor: Florence Williams is a journalist, author, and podcaster whose work focuses on the often unseen links between human health, psychology, and the natural world. Her latest book, Heartbreak: A Personal and Scientific Journey, was called “show-stopping” and “courageous” by Publisher’s Weekly and won the 2023 PEN/E.O Wilson Award for literary science writing. She also wrote The Nature Fix: Why Nature Makes Us Happier, Healthier, and More Creative, an Audible bestseller. Her first book, BREASTS: A Natural and Unnatural History received the Los Angeles Times Book Prize in science and technology and the 2013 Audie in general nonfiction. She is a contributing editor at Outside Magazine, a freelance writer for the New York Times and numerous other publications, and a fellow at the Center for Humans and Nature. A certified forest-bathing guide and experienced workshop leader, she loves leading groups through both short and multi-day nature-immersive retreats and watching the transformation, connection, and healing that result.
