Last winter, I was leading writing workshops in a women’s homeless shelter. I was going through some papers recently and found this free write I did with the women using the prompt, “What I love about myself”. I wrote this on 1/9/15 and decided to post it because it feels good to read it. I like feeling good.
What I love about myself is my smile, so frequent and genuine.
I love the thunderous laughter that comes in waves and echoes in my children’s hearts.
I love the way I can get through life with panache and tenacity. Continue reading “what i love…”
I lead a writing workshop at a local shelter for homeless women. I usually come prepared with prompts but this last Friday, I didn’t. I felt like being spontaneous. I picked up the supplies at the front desk and went to the activity room. One of the women asked for the green notebook to write in because green is the color of money. She said she wanted to change her relationship to money because she always feels so tight inside about it. I said, “Let’s use green as our prompt.” Here’s what came up for me with that prompt:
Green is verdant life force
filling and spilling.
Green is wick–turgid springtime. Pan.
Grass is green in the summer. Rolling hills and
lush beauty for pleasure and picnics.
The vining and pushing up from the dark cold earth to reach the sun is green.
Sun-kissed cheeks in spring air and trilling laughter.
(blowing bubbles in the sunlight)
Green is swollen stems of tulips, strong and able
to support bursting, tender petals.
Green is source energy.
moving to and through
and all around–
Green is open and alive
Green is not on our flag but it is in our pockets
and in our currency.
Current. Flowing. Life.
After we shared our writing, we talked about the idea of currency and how money and greed aren’t the same thing. If we allow ourselves to flow with life and resources to flow through and to use–to embrace the currents of life, we are provided for. Even in my more desperate times, this has always been true. I only need to remember and allow it.
It’s good to remember that part of that currency is sharing our own gifts and other resources. I share this story in that spirit.
Blessed be the green, the wick, the aching, turgid river flowing to and through everything.
This morning, I led my second writing workshop at a local homeless shelter. Before I arrived, I chose the following prompt:
In the silence I understand…
We do 20 minutes of free writing and then share. I found it interesting that one of the women I was working with could hear but didn’t speak. I found myself communicating with someone who was silent. She carried a great deal of peace and her writing reflected that.
My own free writing was rambling, as always:
In the silence I understand that I can access serenity when I choose it but it’s okay to just be in the place of wild cacophony. I understand that the howling wind holds a silence I cannot always understand but must feel.
In the silence I understand that my heart is weary but also strong with the tensile strength of steel but the softness of a baby’s cheek. I understand that the world contains vile behavior from people we are supposed to trust but also the opportunity for forgiveness.
In the silence I understand that we are here to love and that love is often simpler in the silence. The quiet heart lets me understand and know what is needed.
In the silence I understand that I am those restful, quiet spaces as well as the loud, sonic booms. Every day brings the choice to explore which voice to use. I understand that there is mystery but also answers. In the silence I understand to wait long enough to hear.
I later went back through and found words and phrases to pull out for poems or stories. I also found little messages that my heart left for me. This was the primary one.
Tonight, a friend of my posted this on Facebook and I realized how much synchronicity is happening in my life.
“Silence is a great source of strength.” ~Lao Tzu
Recently, I spent several hours alone at The Frye Art Museum drinking in the “Moment Magnitude” exhibit. I wrote pages in my journal. Random things I overheard people saying, snippets from the art descriptions or the videos and my own feelings and thoughts that arose. I also took pictures of things strangers had posted in the exhibit’s guest book. This is the second installment from this creative experiment.
we are not
an equation with limitations
we are relative strength
E X P A N D E D
We are LIBERTY
in bold, gold letters sewn
to a leather vest
(glittering in the sunlight)
in constant transformation
we are not sensible, tame
(more a movement)
we are celebrating
nursing our babies
sharing a meal
fucking under the stars
heads thrown back
with deep roots
and soul signatures
(more a movement)
Yesterday, I spent several hours alone at The Frye Art Museum drinking in the “Moment Magnitude” exhibit. I wrote pages in my journal. Random things I overheard people saying, snippets from the art descriptions or the videos and my own feelings and thoughts that arose. I also took pictures of things strangers had posted in the exhibit’s guest book. This is the first installment from this creative experiment.
emotional intensity theory
no absolute time
(or logical signs)
the crescendo and decrescendo of us
push and pull pitch
frequencies and signatures
our celebrated correspondence
the aftershocks of
let me be a haven
in a world of uncertain outcomes
i don’t know if i can call it a capture
(more a movement)
but surrendering to
possible measurable magnitudes
embracing freedom in union
(i will try not to do you wrong)