Adele Richter, Eden Maxwell’s mother, wrote “A Child’s Regret” in 1976. It’s timeless and universal.
I met Eden Maxwell in 2008 when I read and reviewed The Artist Empowered:Define and Establish Your Value as an Artist.
Eden’s book contains everything needed to sustain creativity over a lifetime. He is a man of soul intent on integrating art, passion, writing, dharma, character, consciousness, culture, intuition, evolution, and spirit. These concerns of heart and mind find a home in his breakout book: An Artist Empowered: Define and Establish Your Value as an Artist. An Artist Empowered is, indeed, a triumph over rejection and a 435 page primer for a creative practice. Eden’s book is infused with spirit and hard-won insights. It’s simply a magnificent achievement.
He previously appeared on Riehlife:
April 11, 2008: An Artist Empowered–Dharma Infused Artful Living
April 10, 2008: Artist Eden Maxwell’s Life Purpose is Dharma in Daily Life
April 9, 2008: Eden Maxwell on Art in Zen and the Zen of Art
April 8, 2008: Riehlife Rejection Series: Eden Maxwell: Make Rejection Work for Your Creative Life
Eden’s slogan is: “You can’t outsource your soul work.” It’s clear from his loving description of his mother and her poem where the root of that understanding comes from. Here’s Eden:
Adele Richter was my mother. She left this world a couple of years ago after a valiant fight with cancer. Born in Romania, she was a remarkably brave woman—she certainly had a Gypsy in her soul. Although she had very little formal education, Adele was smart in the intuitive sense. The Force was with her. Very little got past this lady’s radar.
Undeterred by an early life of abuse and terror that could easily be fodder for a sensational novel or movie, she chose the light—being a compassionate spirit, a poet, and ever-present in the moment. My mother had a marvelous gift for listening, and I had been noticing that the older I got the smarter she became.
My mother’s concise longing for connection poetry reminds me in many ways of Emily Dickinson’s work.
A Child’s Regret
by Adele Richter
My mother was so
Small and tender, I am told—
You see, I don’t remember.
I was so little
And did not know
Someone so young
That I loved so much
Would soon go.
Who will help me grow?
And now the snow
And I will never know.