Stronger

Tags

communication, harmony, healing, hurt, inspiration, journey, love, metaphor, Oprah Winfrey, peace, power, prose poetry, self-knowledge, therapy, tranquility

Yesterday I started to read Oprah Winfrey’s “What I Know for Sure”, and I found it “Bible-like”. It’s a good book to keep close by to refer to on life’s journey. It is full of truth, authenticity, guidance, self-love, love for others and wisdom.

The cover of the book is beige and green and it has an oak tree on it. The oak tree is a symbol for me of faithfulness and strength. Its sturdy trunk is rooted and unshakeable, and a place where I can rest my body if and when I need to. It wont collapse with my weight. It will stand firm and hold me up. Its girth will give me a sense of stability – something like when you are a small child and you run to your mother and put your arms around her. Your arms never quite reach to clasp, but that solidity and warmth, comfort and reassure you.

I am feeling fine today. I meditated for a while. I am getting stronger each day. I feel loved and wanted and special. Not knowing what the future will bring for me does not scare me. I am grateful for my breath, my body and my ability to write. These gifts are precious. They are worth more than gold, but I will not lock them away in a vault of fear, for fear that they will be stolen from me. I will display them and trust that they will stay. I will take these gifts, treasure them and hold fast to them.

~ MEW

Value

Tags

companionship, devastation, devotion, elderly couple, faithfulness, instinct, lessons, love, resourcefulness, story, survival, values, war

Picture this: A war-torn area. Devastation. A few houses scattered about – some inhabited, others very clearly empty of all human traces save for a shoe, some well-used pots and pans, a plate, evidence of a very simple cooking device: two hotplates long abandoned.

An elderly couple have not left their home because they are too afraid to do so. He worries that if he leaves to go into town, he may be shot, or harmed in some way, or he may not be able to return to his home where his wife waits for him to return. So he stays. They stay. They grow vegetables in their yard and they get eggs from their chickens. All their neighbours have either been killed, have left hurriedly taking only what they could, or they too stay, hidden away where they cannot be found – surviving.

The elderly couple, smiling the smile of survivors. Faithfully trusting in instinct and each other. The reporter says to the man, how much does this woman mean to you. The man looks at the woman and smiles, smiling the smile of love and devotion. The woman, her beautiful wrinkles surrounding her twinkling eyes, twinkling eyes which have known love and devotion in equal measures.

He says, his voice cracking and eyes moistened by tears: “We have been together for 51 years. How can I explain in words how much she means to me?” She squeezes his hand.

Amongst the devastation of war, there is hope. There is a valuable lesson here for those who wish to learn it.

~ MEW

Self-Love

Tags

family, growth, imagery, love, poem, poetry, prose poetry, shame, universe, wings

Self-Love

My picture that I drew today was of a butterfly. It could also be an angel. The creature has wings. I have drawn spots on both wings. On one wing there are seven spots and on the other wing there are eight spots. I wrote: “family is important”. But then I scribbled over it because I didn’t want those words on my picture. The words made me feel uncomfortable. They made me feel ashamed, embarrassed and self-conscious. I don’t want to feel like that. I want to feel loved, cared for and very very important and the sun is coming out now and I’m writing faster and faster and I need to feel BIG, HUGE, SPECTACULAR and small again.

Because that is how I know I will grow into being the real me, who is HUGE and talented and fully aware of all that is going on around me. I am pleased to feel that I am progressing. My picture has shown that the small, seemingly insignificant things are just as important or even more important than things I have left behind in my old life.

My old life doesn’t feature now, because it has gone. Exploded! Exploded into a thousand pieces and scattered in the Universe. The Universe has absorbed these pieces and turned them into LOVE. My eyes are moist and shed the tears of a thousand heartaches, these too absorbed by the Universe and sprinkled on the ground below.

~ MEW

Nature’s Therapy

Tags

coils, healing, journal, love, nature, poem, poetry, prose poetry, roses, sunlight, therapy, white paper

Nature’s Therapy

I have music playing in the background and it reminds me of what it feels like to be loved. It is soothing and calming and allows me to escape from pressures that are constantly with me. I feel I can express those feelings through writing on this paper. This paper is white and the colour white reminds me of purity. There are no blemishes on this paper. I want to feel as pure and spotless as this white paper.

Today, I drew a picture with coils and hearts and the sun. I’m not sure what this is symbolic of. Coils could be my tightly wound inner being which is trying hard to be loose and free. The hearts could be my yearning to feel loved and accepted. I wrote: “my love is like a red rose”. A rose is so beautiful that this is what I imagine love to be like. Perfectly formed, delicate, rich in colour, soft and gentle like its petals. Drawing me in to examine, admire, contemplate and touch. I’m not able to turn away from it because it is so beautiful that I just want to keep looking and delight in its beauty.

The sun could be the light that allows me to see. The light shines and there is no darkness when it shines. It shines into my soul and lights up my being.

~ MEW

Blogging101: Day 11: From you to you. Write a letter to your 14 year old self. Tomorrow, write a letter to yourself in 20 years

Tags

awareness, blogging university, blogging101, child abuse, children, compassion, father, hope, letter, love, mother, relationships, suicide, Support, younger self

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “From You to You.”

Today’s assignment, write a letter to your 14 year old self, seemed easy, but on second thoughts I am not so sure. It certainly seemed the easiest option. There were so many choices: some that I thought I could do, and others that I thought I wouldn’t know where to start. Sometimes I think when there are too many choices, it’s very difficult to decide which option to go for. Better, when it’s either this or that really.

Dear Marie

Yes, you, come on now, try not to let things get you down too much. I promise life will get better. I know that you’ve had it really rough and I know that you wish your first suicide attempt at age 11 had worked, but it didn’t and that’s because you are here for a reason. I know that you can’t see that now, because all around you is chaos, but you are a divine spirit and you need to know that.

Try not to internalise the pain. I know that you feel that you have no-one to confide in, but you do. Speak to your grandfather. I know he is no longer here. I know he died in 1959, but his spirit is with you. Speak your pain and he will hear and he will try to smooth the path for you and make life a little easier. I know you’re thinking, “rubbish!” But seriously, he came to help you that painful night when you were 11. It was him you saw, when he hovvered over you. It was not a figment of your imagination. He came to make sure those pills did not work.

You’re destined for great things Marie. Look at Oprah Winfrey, Maya Angelou – they suffered too but look how they have turned their lives around. They have have used their abusive pasts to build a solid framework in which to change their lives for the better. OK, so you’re never going to be Oprah or Maya with their very public profile, but you will be Marie blogging on WordPress, “sharing, hoping to inspire and motivate” others.

I know you think I’m crazy, and that this will never happen. Yes at 14, with a mother who clearly finds you an irritation and a father who gets a kick out of battering you, sending you to school with bruises on your face and body, with the explanation “If they ask you what has happened to you, tell them that you fell over some wire in the backyard”, makes the above paragraph seem like the ramblings of a mad woman, but honestly, you will survive.

People that you don’t know now, will be reading your poetry and will write to you telling you how much they love what you have written. People all over the world in France, Austria, USA, Australia will be commenting on your poetry.

There will be something called the Internet which will allow you to connect with others in a way that you can’t now. The world will be a smaller place in terms of contact and there will be vast opportunities for you to grasp and take advantage of.

I love you Marie and I want to take care of you in the only way I can. This is why I am writing to you, aged 14. I want to give you hope. I want to let you know that I am there for you.

Yours sincerely

(A much older)Marie xx

Sandy shore

Tags

father, FGM, French poems/poetry, love, memories, poems and poemes

Undeniable poetic and emotional eloquence in these words …