“Everything is a lesson. And so you have to find out what’s the lesson, and how do I embrace this lesson, and how do I go forward? And you have to watch out for the bitterness. That’s what you don’t want to be bothered with.”
in the spirit of Nikki, i add this to what she found as true (not "truth", which is the 'embalmed' form of what was alive as 'true'):
"Everything is a lesson..."
and a lesson is not a punishment, a 'gun pointed to your head' kind of thing of force. A lesson is an invitation - of future, of potential, of growth or evolution. It's a choice and not a must.
"And you have to watch out for the bitterness. That’s what you don’t want to be bothered with."
... unless you are able to embrace the bitterness... as a portal, as an invitation... a "lesson". again, it's a choice. and a potential or portal... a voice from and of a future we can't see or know.
Years ago I got to host Nikki for an event at the bookstore I worked at. Preparing for it was the first time I’d read her work and I immediately was smitten. She was the loveliest, kindest person. I reached that judgement not as a result of the event itself, though that was good (I’ve found that writers who are teachers are often the best events), since sometimes people have a necessarily-performative version of self for just such an occasion/purpose. Instead, it came from what happened afterwards.
It was a snowy night in Milwaukee. We were having trouble getting her a cab, but I was heading in the direction of her hotel anyway so I offered to drive her. My car was parked in a structure across the street, however I somehow missed that they’d recently turned it paid from free. And I was NOT prepared.
So we get to the exit and I realize I don’t have any money. I was going through a divorce at the time and financially strapped, didn’t even have a credit card to use. I was mortified, apologetic, and a little panicky but trying to stay cool because I was in the presence of someone I thought was cool. I remembered I have coins stashed in the car’s ashtray (aka parking meter $ storage) and took out the container. And then proceeded to feed quarter after dime after dime after nickel into the machine, slowly, hoping I had enough.
I also kept thinking about how tired she must be and eager to settle into her hotel and here I am delaying that.
But she simply sat there, so patient. She didn’t offer to pay either, though. Yet somehow that combination made me feel like she was letting me overcome the obstacle—allowing me to retain a sense of dignity underneath my embarrassment. She could have swooped in with a card, but it would have made me feel worse and I got the sense she knew that. I have no doubt she would have helped if I wasn’t ultimately able to get us out.
The 10-minute drive after was fairly cozy, with the quiet city and the snow, and I don’t recall what we talked about but my memory is that it was nice. She was so gracious.
For years, I told the story in a way that made it funny… because I told it with myself at the center. But when I retell it with her as the main character, it changes the air. Makes it softer, gentle, humbling, and…a lesson in how to be so for others as well as ourselves.
Thank you for modeling that in life and on the page, Nikki. I’ll always treasure our awkward moment together. Truly. 💜
Thank you Krista. I needed this so much reminded that it is our spiritual discipline that will enable us to cleanse, heal and create what we ALL must become. The Pause will call and beckon. Nikki is an ancestor now—readily available in NEW WAYS—blessings!!
Yes, watch out for bitterness. It closes the heart and opportunities for change. Krista, your greeting speaks true to me this Solistice day and facing the start of a politically divisive 2025.
Thank you, Krista. Your work and words are always an island surrounded by the C’s…calm, compassion, curiosity, community, connection, creativity…I always know I can visit this island and come away refreshed. You are a gift.
May I please quote you in my newsletter today? The sentence about cleaving to what you love and brings you joy, is integral to my thoughts about creativity and making. If not, i understand.
From Nebraska, on an old farm the middle of our nation, the center of my world, I watch. Not only, but my circle connects all those other circles outwardly, so I feel them. The lessons are all here. The quiet and the noise. Beauty and struggle. The farm’s creatures seem unconcerned. They bask in the sun when there is, then hunker when the snow and winds blow, seemingly with no memory of the past storm. How lucky it seems.
I always feel such excitement when I see an email from you! Thank you for the beautiful work you and your team create together. Your impact in my life is significant.
I was privileged enough to hear Nikki Giovanni lecture at my daughters all girls high school in 2003. An activist through her artistic gift, Nikki will forever be imprinted on our hearts. 😔🦋❤️
There’s something about Nikki Giovanni’s voice — and the way you’ve brought it back to us here — that feels like a balm for grown-up hearts trying to stay soft in a world that demands armor.
“Don’t waste what you know.”
That one hit especially hard. How often we carry wisdom like extra luggage, instead of offering it, living it, risking it.
And the reminder that we are not quite what we want to be… but still better than we think — it gives breathing room. Space to grieve, grow, and keep showing up.
Thank you for this, Krista. For tethering us not just to joy, but to dignity. To the bittersweet. To the way wisdom often walks quietly beside us, disguised as an awkward moment in a parking garage or a line of poetry that echoes when we least expect it.
“Everything is a lesson. And so you have to find out what’s the lesson, and how do I embrace this lesson, and how do I go forward? And you have to watch out for the bitterness. That’s what you don’t want to be bothered with.”
in the spirit of Nikki, i add this to what she found as true (not "truth", which is the 'embalmed' form of what was alive as 'true'):
"Everything is a lesson..."
and a lesson is not a punishment, a 'gun pointed to your head' kind of thing of force. A lesson is an invitation - of future, of potential, of growth or evolution. It's a choice and not a must.
"And you have to watch out for the bitterness. That’s what you don’t want to be bothered with."
... unless you are able to embrace the bitterness... as a portal, as an invitation... a "lesson". again, it's a choice. and a potential or portal... a voice from and of a future we can't see or know.
Years ago I got to host Nikki for an event at the bookstore I worked at. Preparing for it was the first time I’d read her work and I immediately was smitten. She was the loveliest, kindest person. I reached that judgement not as a result of the event itself, though that was good (I’ve found that writers who are teachers are often the best events), since sometimes people have a necessarily-performative version of self for just such an occasion/purpose. Instead, it came from what happened afterwards.
It was a snowy night in Milwaukee. We were having trouble getting her a cab, but I was heading in the direction of her hotel anyway so I offered to drive her. My car was parked in a structure across the street, however I somehow missed that they’d recently turned it paid from free. And I was NOT prepared.
So we get to the exit and I realize I don’t have any money. I was going through a divorce at the time and financially strapped, didn’t even have a credit card to use. I was mortified, apologetic, and a little panicky but trying to stay cool because I was in the presence of someone I thought was cool. I remembered I have coins stashed in the car’s ashtray (aka parking meter $ storage) and took out the container. And then proceeded to feed quarter after dime after dime after nickel into the machine, slowly, hoping I had enough.
I also kept thinking about how tired she must be and eager to settle into her hotel and here I am delaying that.
But she simply sat there, so patient. She didn’t offer to pay either, though. Yet somehow that combination made me feel like she was letting me overcome the obstacle—allowing me to retain a sense of dignity underneath my embarrassment. She could have swooped in with a card, but it would have made me feel worse and I got the sense she knew that. I have no doubt she would have helped if I wasn’t ultimately able to get us out.
The 10-minute drive after was fairly cozy, with the quiet city and the snow, and I don’t recall what we talked about but my memory is that it was nice. She was so gracious.
For years, I told the story in a way that made it funny… because I told it with myself at the center. But when I retell it with her as the main character, it changes the air. Makes it softer, gentle, humbling, and…a lesson in how to be so for others as well as ourselves.
Thank you for modeling that in life and on the page, Nikki. I’ll always treasure our awkward moment together. Truly. 💜
Thank you Krista. I needed this so much reminded that it is our spiritual discipline that will enable us to cleanse, heal and create what we ALL must become. The Pause will call and beckon. Nikki is an ancestor now—readily available in NEW WAYS—blessings!!
What a wonderful way to greet the day! “ we are alive to imagine and possibility’. What a call to write as we continue to gather with hope and love …
Bravo, Krista. More empowerment to you for further empowerment to us, your followers.
I Was There That day
That day when winter died.
And no one cried.
The crows perhaps?
Who knows the crows?
The daffodils in the sod
awaited their day to sway
to sway upon the grave.
And the Song Bird longed
it's greedy spring song,
sung the morning long.
And you, you who crave
this second coming light,
will you mourn with me
this passing this Winter
dark Solstice night?
Yes, watch out for bitterness. It closes the heart and opportunities for change. Krista, your greeting speaks true to me this Solistice day and facing the start of a politically divisive 2025.
Thank you, Krista. Your work and words are always an island surrounded by the C’s…calm, compassion, curiosity, community, connection, creativity…I always know I can visit this island and come away refreshed. You are a gift.
This was a beautiful tribute to the passing of a beautiful person.
I am a Tippett groupie. As I do kitchen or laundry tasks I LOVE listening on repeat. My heart is filling.
May I please quote you in my newsletter today? The sentence about cleaving to what you love and brings you joy, is integral to my thoughts about creativity and making. If not, i understand.
Merry Christmas Krista,
From Nebraska, on an old farm the middle of our nation, the center of my world, I watch. Not only, but my circle connects all those other circles outwardly, so I feel them. The lessons are all here. The quiet and the noise. Beauty and struggle. The farm’s creatures seem unconcerned. They bask in the sun when there is, then hunker when the snow and winds blow, seemingly with no memory of the past storm. How lucky it seems.
I always feel such excitement when I see an email from you! Thank you for the beautiful work you and your team create together. Your impact in my life is significant.
I was privileged enough to hear Nikki Giovanni lecture at my daughters all girls high school in 2003. An activist through her artistic gift, Nikki will forever be imprinted on our hearts. 😔🦋❤️
There’s something about Nikki Giovanni’s voice — and the way you’ve brought it back to us here — that feels like a balm for grown-up hearts trying to stay soft in a world that demands armor.
“Don’t waste what you know.”
That one hit especially hard. How often we carry wisdom like extra luggage, instead of offering it, living it, risking it.
And the reminder that we are not quite what we want to be… but still better than we think — it gives breathing room. Space to grieve, grow, and keep showing up.
Thank you for this, Krista. For tethering us not just to joy, but to dignity. To the bittersweet. To the way wisdom often walks quietly beside us, disguised as an awkward moment in a parking garage or a line of poetry that echoes when we least expect it.
With love and a bowed head,
—Anton
Thank you for this brilliant program in the darkness of the Dawn of 2025. We need all the hope, magic and love our hearts can give.🙏❤️🙏
Thank you!