Recently I was sitting on a bench in a courtyard outside my dentist’s office while my daughters were getting their teeth cleaned. It was a perfect summer day, crisp and clear with a tangy mixture of slight breezes and sunshine.
I breathed in deeply. I crossed my legs. I looked to my left. I looked to my right. I breathed in again. Then I began to cry.
I could blame it on a lot — Covid, some sad news about a childhood friend, two stories I’m working on that are sensitive and controversial with the writing slow going. Certainly all these contributed to the tears that flowed. However (and maybe this sounds strange) I was relieved. It felt good to be alone and to cry.
There is another layer to this experience that seems definitive to my personality, and it is best described as dor. It is a Romanian word that comes from the Latin word dolus, which means, “to ache.” I learned about dor in the travel issue of Kinfolk magazine. It is “a visceral, bittersweet yearning … [that] is not intended to be gloomy, [but] gives emotional significance to life.” I especially appreciated learning that “dor conveys a loneliness you embrace, rather than overcome.”
Staying positive and thinking happy thoughts can be, quite frankly, exhausting. I also don’t think it’s a genuine way to live. I think when I allow myself to experience dor, it makes me into a more confident, vulnerable, and creative person.
The morning when I dropped my girls off at the dentist, I knew something was off but didn’t fully realize it until I stepped inside the office and saw the yellow tape that X-ed off the chairs so that there was no room for me in this space. It was dangerous for me to stay. I then understand it would be good to step away and find a seat elsewhere.
I kept on my sunglasses so as not to give myself away while I cried, and at one point, a man walked by. He told me that I looked so comfortable and that he was jealous.
I laughed, but I wasn’t comfortable. And that is okay.
Try It
This week, write a poem that expresses dor. Try to embrace loneliness (and make the reader embrace it) instead of trying to overcome it.
Featured Poem
Thanks to everyone who participated in last week’s poetry prompt. Here’s one from Jenna Brack we enjoyed:
Sunset Fishing
We cross a narrow board,
thin as a fillet,
onto a rickety dock. He wants
to catch fish, I want to catch
the sun.
He casts a net, pulls up a minnow
with gaping gills and wide eyes,
slides it onto a hook. I lament
this practice, using living things
to catch living things
But that’s how
you fish, he says.
He casts his rod, the sun
crosses the narrow bridge
between day and night,
orange-hued clouds
ripple the sky, and I watch
with my mouth gaping
and eyes open, trying to catch
the enormity of life
with one slender hour
of living.
We leave, two silhouettes
crossing back to shore.
He has caught
no fish, the sun has evaded
me, again
But it was a perfect night
for fishing, he says.
Photo by Rachel Kramer Creative Commons, via Flickr. Post by Callie Feyen.
Browse more poetry prompts
I have been a fan of Callie Feyen’s writing for quite some time but I finished this book in almost one sitting. You do not need to be a teacher to have instant admiration for her honesty, vulnerability, and true dedication to her students. She uses her own personal storytelling as the tool to teach one of the greatest stories of our time creating an instant connection to her students as well as to you the reader. If you have ever been in 8th grade, fallen in love, had a best friend, or loved reading, you will love this book. As the mother of an 8th grader, my other genuine hope is that my son will one day have a teacher as gifted as Callie.
– Celena Roldan
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Richard Maxson says
Callie, a heartfelt post. I agree that putting on a happy face in the midst of fear, chaos, sad times IS exhausting. When our emotions flow they are no less necessary than those deep breaths you took. Sadness, tears, even anger are available to us for a reason. Thank you for sharing this.
Monica Sharman says
Callie, I am so grateful and excited to learn this Romanian word. It helps me, as does the German Sehnsucht and the Portuguese saudade. I’ve been thinking more intensely on these kinds of things lately. I’ll be working on a poem for this prompt!
Richard Maxson says
Be As You Are
Be as you are bright bough,
bare with lichen’s evening glow.
Fruited Earth breathe quietly,
the blue lake of spring,
though fresh with rain, will frost
while rimmed with daffodils.
Tree vine wander wild and tangled,
lonely grow, then cycle through.
Love is here, deep seed,
come, rock, moss, insect and bloom.
Laura Lynn Brown says
This reminds me of one of Beverly Rollwagen’s “she just wants” poems, “Essential,” which begins, “She just wants to keep her essential / sorrow.”
Monica Sharman says
Wow, Laura, thank you for sharing this. I will look for and buy Beverly Rollwagen’s “She Just Wants”!
Monica Sharman says
Doomed
“Angels can fly because they take themselves lightly.”
– G.K. Chesterton
We are doomed
to buoyancy, impossible
for pressures beneath to pull us
down from the clouds
those very pressures being
the upward forces that lift.
martin gottlieb cohen says
dusk loneliness
algae glow in the bow wave
Veronica Toth says
deficit
“maybe if you just stayed away from
deficit thinking,” he suggested. “this walk
is nice, isn’t it?”
after all: the day is sunny and blue! we see the top
halves of student faces every day! we are
all in this together!
i am beginning to realize it is part of it
to feel like this sometimes: each with our rift
we cannot share,
the groove that life carves, a debt beyond
our payment. it is lonely to see it, and say it,
and be reprimanded for my vision.
we keep walking,
a six-foot deficit
spread out between us.
Veronica J Toth says
(Also — I LOVE “dor.”)
Todd Truffin says
Thank you, Callie, for teaching me the word “dor.” I am totally stealing this prompt to use in a writing class. It helped me describe feelings I’ve had walking through the grocery store and having strong reactions to empty shelves. Even just two weeks ago, I got tight-chested over a paucity of canned tomatoes.
Callie says
Thank you, Todd!
I hope your students enjoy the prompt.