"What can I get you, my love?"
a Jill McDonough-inspired meditation & writing prompt
I’m in Seattle visiting my friend, Shannon, up at 4:30 am Pacific Coast Time, sitting near the fire.
In Pittsburgh, the sun is up and my family is on their way to school and everyone is propelling—or dragging—themselves into the day.
But I’m here on the West Coast, suspended in the dark morning, thinking about love.
Thinking how love is what rumbles underneath everything.
Love is what flies us through time zones to see a friend.
Love is what makes the PB and J sandwiches.
Love is what says, “I think you’re being too hard on yourself.”
Love is what plants us on the soccer sideline in a cold rain.
Love is what makes us show up when we’re exhausted and have 1000 other things to do.
Love is what breaks us when we lose someone we love.
Love is what pieces us together again.
Love is what makes us laugh and laugh.
Love is what carries us through the moments when the laughter is gone.
Love is what turns the music up louder to dance.
Love is what says, “If you can’t sleep, wake me up.”
Love is what we are at our best.
Here’s a brilliant Jill McDonough poem for our prompt, which came to me by way of Major Jackson and The Slowdown Show (which you should be listening to if you’re not already). It’s a different kind of love poem, as you’ll see, and it’s one that I can’t shake. One that names the kind of collective, community love I treasure.
If you’re listening as you write or meditate, find a comfortable place to sit, or do something mindless as you listen—something that helps you loosen your grip on the stuff of your life and just breathe.
Love and the Deli Counter
At my Stop & Shop the ladies at the deli counter give us free slices of meat so we can talk about how thin we want it. Everyone wants it thinner but me. A woman asks for four slices shaved ham. She can have anything she wants. I want two pounds of turkey, sliced thick. I never got the thin slice thing; it’s hard to pick up. It tears. It takes the ladies longer to cut it up. Here’s what I hate: inconveniencing ladies. One of the deli ladies tells me the provolone piccante smells like feet and I say Way to sell it! I make her coworker laugh, which is all I want from a trip to the Stop & Shop. She and I keep looking at each other, nodding as if we are listening seriously while foot-taste cheese lady makes her case; the foot taste is a good thing! Then she wants to talk about not wearing socks as a kid, getting in trouble with her mom. I love them both. I am eating a free slice of turkey, thanking them, telling another lady in the store I love the blue and yellow grosgrain ribbon down her jeans’ seams, telling another I love your boots. There are no men in the store. Saturday afternoon; we stroll the aisles, kind to each other. Some days Boston is just a bunch of women calling out to each other I LOVE YOUR DRESS! We eat free turkey, help each other find the sour cream. The checkout girl’s name tag says Love. Love tells me her mom called her love so much she just changed it. I love it, love my Stop & Shop, her name, love when people, strangers, call me love or lovie. At the gym Christine says Hello, love until she learns my name; a shame. At the deli counter, a woman dries her hands, smiles at me, says and what can I get you, my love? —by Jill McDonough, from AMERICAN TREASURE, Alice James Books, (2022)
Prompt
Think of a place in which you feel loved.
Don’t think too hard. Just go with what comes to mind rather than trying to find the “perfect” place.
What is this place in which you feel the presence of love—any kind of love?
Close your eyes and picture yourself there.
Who is there with you? What do you see? What do you hear? Taste? Touch? Smell?
What does it feel like in your body to be in this space? Is it warm? fuzzy? light? soft?
Breathe into this feeling if you’re meditating. As Joseph Goldstein says, “Breathe and know you’re breathing.”
Rest in this place. Be there and know you are there.
What is the texture or the feeling of love for you?
Meditate or write into that feeling.
Is the texture of love funny, like in McDonough’s poem? Does it arise from laughter…stillness…affection…quiet…something else…
Meditate and breathe with this or write about it.
McDonough writes, “I love it, love my Stop & Shop, her name, love when people, strangers, call me love or lovie.”
What do you love? Stay with that feeling for as long as you can.
& a Mt. Joy song for you that feels kindred to this poem xo
Be Where You Are is about how to use writing and mindfulness to be where you are. You’re always welcome to reply to this email, comment below, or find me on instagram (@mohnslate) or elsewhere. If you enjoyed this, I’d love it if you would consider subscribing, share this post, or send it to a friend. 💛
Thank you for the smile inspiring prompt today