Guidance

Tags

communication, compassion, emotion, fears, flowers, harmony, healing, heart, journey, metaphor, nature, poetry, prose poetry, self-knowledge, therapy

Image: Google Images

Guidance

When I’m floundering fixedly on facing fears; fully aware of my shortcomings, I find you pointing proudly in the direction that I should go. Don’t you know that if I go, I go with the knowledge that I am not enough out there on my own? My needs are not necessarily manifold, but many are they and they won’t go away without first feeding that part of me which hungers for your staunch support; stepping in line with me.

So when you point, please don’t point with those elegant finely forbidding fingers. Instead, firmly hold my hand, grasp it lovingly and lead me along the path where the bluebells grow, dancing in freshly fallen snow, in the chill wind of April’s noon-day sun.

~mew

Soul Lessons

Tags

forgiveness, freedom, healing, letting go, life lessons, pardon, peace, prose poetry, rules, school of life, self-knowledge, trials

“When hate has legislated, love is an act of rebellion”
Source: Origin South African, author unknown

This school is different to other schools that I have ever known. The curriculum is somewhat hazy and is nowhere written down. I’m expected to turn up each day with a smile upon my face, my shoes polished and my laces not undone. My uniform is whatever I choose to wear that day and I cannot say that it is one that others green of eye will be wearing the very next day. So come what may, some unseen force has planned that I should stay in school until all the lessons that I need to learn are well and truly learned.

There are no classrooms in this school and the rules are made up as I go along, they come down heavily upon me even though I feel I’ve done no wrong. No text books grace the library walls however hard I look, and if I enquire about things of which I’m unsure, the advice I’m given arbitrarily is go and look it up! Through many trials I have come. So many doors shut in my face. I am sometimes told by the principal to go at my own pace. And off she walks heels clicking on the floor, with a smirk upon her face, as if to say, my goodness me, will that child never learn.

Today’s lesson is the hardest I have ever had to learn, and still I know that even though to memory I have committed it, tomorrow when I’m asked what are the basic principles of the act of letting go, my already creased brow will furrow and I will stumble as if I didn’t know. But when alone, with no pressure from those who know, I will say quietly to myself:

Forgiveness does not mean that the other person has not really done anything wrong.
Forgiveness does not mean that you have to forget.
What forgiveness means is that you choose to pardon the wrong.
Forgiveness means that your soul is free no longer chained and restrained.
Forgiveness means that you are stronger for the lesson has been learned.

The school bell tolls and I no longer ask for whom.

~ MEW 2016

Father

Tags

90th Birthday, abuse, anger, child abuse, communication, compassion, forgiveness, healing, heart, hurt, prose poetry, sadness, self-knowledge, therapy

Father

I know so little about you. I do regret that and I wonder if it is possible to go back while there is still time. But is there still time? And if there is, what would I ask you and would you answer me truthfully, or would you continue to evade my curious, questionning heart,confuse, abuse, lose me in that maze, that maze that you constructed, stiff, stifling, solid walls around you, saying “keep out!”.

Who mothered you? Who fathered you? Who were your friends? Who struck you? Where did your rage come from? At whose hands did you learn to fight, bite, keep tight, never lose sight of the anger, hold it, nurture it, feed it, plead with it to keep you safe, safe from the hurt and the pain which surely must have followed you doggedly in your formative years?

My tears, my fears, the passing years, heaped in a pile in a bundle in the centre of my heart. I keep meaning to have a clear out, but I don’t have the strength to tackle that bundle, so I trundle along in the hope that one day soon, I’ll march in, take hold, unfold all those offending garments, toss them into a place where I can see them for what they are: questions, questions with no answers. No answers.

I have known you for years untold and yet I do not know you. You have been in my heart, never too far apart, lingering languidly upon my lips, in my thoughts, in my prayers and layer after layer of you is impressed upon my being. I need to forgive myself for not getting to know you. I need to forgive you for not letting me get to know you.

~ mew

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

The Blue Door

Tags

approval, Blue door, colour, discovery, door, heart, poem, poetry, prose poetry, recognition, therapy

Image – courtesy of TheCrazyBagLady

The Blue door

My head is very clear today. Not jumbled or stifled or even unclear. If I focus on the things that are important to me, I will come through fine. This is not a race or a competition, I feel it is an opportunity to open doors that have been closed to me for a very long time. Which doors have been closed to me? Well there’s a door which is coloured light blue with a white door bell and a black knocker. It is regal looking as if it belongs in a palace. I’m not sure what’s behind that door, but I am very interested to open it and have a good look.

I’m pushing it now, but it is stiff and I really have to put my whole body against it. It gives and flies open! The room is dark, but once my eyes are focused, I can see shapes. There is a heart. It is red and pulsating and vibrant. It fills the room. The glow of promise and dreams gets brighter and it has a perfume: one that I do not recognise. But it makes me want to breathe in deeply until every part of my being is filled with it, and I look around in wonder to see what else there is within these walls.

I feel a sadness that I am only now discovering what lies behind the light blue door. But tinged with that is hope, hope that this room with its pulsating heart will always be available to me. I close the door, and touch my own heart: it leaps with recognition and approval.

~ 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

Writing 201: Poetry – Day Seven: Fingers, Prose Poem, Assonance

Tags

201, direction, fears, fingers, floundering, needs, poem, prose poetry, snow, writing 201 poetry

Day 7

Assignment: Write a poem using the following:

Prompt: Fingers
Form: Prose Poetry
Device: Assonance

Direction

When I’m floundering fixedly on facing fears; fully aware of my shortcomings, I find you pointing proudly in the direction that I should go. Don’t you know that if I go, I go with the knowledge that I am not enough out there on my own? My needs are not necessarily manifold, but many are they and they wont go away without first feeding that part of me which hungers for your staunch support; stepping in line with me.

So when you point, please don’t point with those elegant finely forbidding fingers. Instead, firmly hold my hand, grasp it lovingly and lead me along the path where the bluebells grow, dancing in freshly fallen snow, in the chill wind of April’s noon-day sun.

~mew