…. Yes, My Revolution Begins in My Body …..

I had been thinking for some time that I would like to change the nature of my blogs. This wonderful short video written by the creatively erudite Eve Ensler, has come up for me this morning on social media and has given me the hefty nudge I’ve been needing!

All my life my body has needed, no…. y-e-a-r-n-e-d for a revolution, I tell you a damned great big, rooted in the fertile ground of Mother Earth, Revolution! Well, here I am at long last, ‘facing’ my body, standing in that revolutionary soil, feet first, head-on.

It’s a tragic and terrible thing to ‘awaken’ and find yourself emerging from sleepwalking through life. She, I was a ”fat little girl” who ached from the disrespect coming at me… the energetic violations of a world hell-bent on making me wrong, or at least, squashing my voice, squashing me, suffocating the screams. They weren’t actual screams you see, they were on a parr with Edvard Munch’s ‘Silent Scream’ … a scream that rips apart the fascia in the body, MY body.

Climbing trees to escape was my way. Hiding in that oak tree where no one could see me, hear me, smell me …. touch me; I didn’t want them to touch my soul. I hid in fields of tall grasses, hollow trees, dry ditches where Cuckoo Pint grew with such voracious sexual beauty that they embedded themselves in my six year old mind, to be replicated, unwittingly, in my fifties on canvas.

Arum_maculatum_0_700.jpg Cuckoo Pint growing wild in the British countryside.

DSCN1285.JPG ‘Passion Fruit’ Acrylics on Canvas circa 2005

I hadn’t realised as a child (who would?), that  I wanted to break free with the insanity of a woman who could be stoned at any given moment, the psychological pain in me was so great. The wild young thing who had rising passions … in the body in the Soul …. in my heart… passions for sounds, colours, shapes. The desperation to be dramatically daubing colour everywhere…. in my hair, you know what I mean, like people do now…. oh-bring-it-on…… I feel it brewing… damned convention, wretched polite society, that girl is still there waiting to be met…. Of course she found the Cuckoo Pint voluptuously divine in its shape and colour. Of course she recognised its significance in her own physicality…… but not in words…. it was a kinesthetic sensing and knowing. Only looking back do I see the fog, smog sticky old bog in which she tried to breathe. N.B. not being able to breathe can cause brain fog….

You could ask me, “but what happened to you in your childhood then?” and my answer could be and is….. “You will have to listen deeply. You will need ears that can permeate the impenetrable. You will only understand if you can come to the rawness of the psyche with me, where there are the bones of the bare and broken; the molten lava of Gravitas and Expansiveness of Life.”

This is where I now invite you to come on my journey with me. My amazing life of a woodman’s daughter where suddenly, smashed and grabbed at the age of fifty-eight, it all changed. In 2011 the diagnosis of colon cancer was upon my body and my heart and then ALL that follows on from that is not even circuitous, but more a direct shaken by my bones sort of story….. the story of little c. Please note, dear traveler, there is no Big C in MY life and never will be… I am bigger than it will ever be, regardless of how this all spins and weaves its way through to my transition into the next bit of my journey ……

This is the first of, who knows how many posts, exploring my body’s need to be all ‘present and correct’ just as it is!  If you’re interested or know of anyone who might relate, please share……

 

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In – Justice

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Some of you know I like to play around with words and sounds especially on topics of the heart & soul. In light of all that is going on in various countries, especially the UK and USA, I have written this little piece:
 
In – Justice
Here, in a passionate heart,
murmurs of betrayal irk in turning,
so spitting out white coals, must be,
lest my churning guts do rage with sincere burning….
You think to know me
though in truth,
you want to own me…
I have a Voice and with it I,
therefore, responsible must be….
where injustices are vile illusions
made manifest for all with eyes to see.
Leave not your febrile thoughts
at night between the shards of light
around my door, for therein lies the root of all,
a so called, filthy war.
Debunk this fear and stand together
as keepers of the narrow Gate,
where Love does dwell
and Kindness and Compassion wait.
~ words bubble up when governments wield unjust power upon the people.
FC 22/10/2015

The Flaming Pyre of Shame

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If all we can sound are tears,
then let us weep.
If all we can say is no,
then let us shout it out.
If all we can do is weep and shout
and then walk on the other side of the road,
let us hang our heads in shame
for we are no better than the
traffickers, thieves and jingoists.

If …this ….is …so,
then let us make an altar of bracken,
lay ourselves upon it, offer up
our lives for theirs……
a body,
…. upon a flaming pyre of shame.

I Believe……

I Believe…….

I am a big ‘Little Me’.
I inhabit a large body,
a body of size, a body housing
a big Spirit and a minimal mind.
In my head I am a dancer, a diver,
an elegant, tall, thin Sally……
and then I giggle a smidging
at the very ‘notioned’ thought……
I laugh at myself as I pirouette
around and about, in and out
of all parts of me……………
Yet then I see this ageing self
in the glass upon the wall ….
a self where the years have
garnerd lines, rolls, width and curves
and I wonder:
“do I truly believe this is really me?
Who is ‘Me’? Where does the ‘I’
in me reside?” and inwardly I
toss my aching shoulders skyward!
All I know is this: my belief doesn’t
KNOW what I know about me……
skinny, vulnerable ‘Little Me’.

Around ‘Encouragement’

The word ‘Encourage’ has always meant to me to imbue with curage/courage…. it’s apparently a word which goes back to the 15th century…. we need it today more than ever, I would say. It implies instilling life; that is precisely how I experience it. Here is a little offering:

Encouragement is Life.

Give me break when
I tell you how I am!
I don’t need your lambasting
or your controlling words……
You want me to change?
Then put away that stick
and offer the carrot to
help me see in the dark.
When you encourage me
with your laughter and bright
smile, I come alive and want to LIVE.
Encouragement IS Life…..
and surely you should know,
a plant would never grow
if the sun scowled upon it!

Reflection

Reflection
Whiteness like snow, hangs once again
opposite my small, square paned window.
Beams of light come in at a morning angle
across piano, music and wooden backed chair.
While all around, the scent of pink Jasmine
mollifies the lingering fatalistic dictum of all
that is not well in this world today…… Yet,
here am I now, gazing on sunbeams as they
dance on and off the petals of the Miribelle bush.
How blessed am I to be relatively safe, that I am
in this moment, free to look upon my environment
soaking up the generosity of our glorious, natural world.IMG_0890

Sitting With Love

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Sitting With Love

A tribute to those suffering in the floods. What we see out in the world around us is a reflection of that which is inside us. May all be healed through the love and compassion of those who have lost their homes, possessions and livelihoods.

Sitting With Love.

Sitting with Love,
as Love sits with me.
The exhaustion of the day
reflects the worn out, tired months
of a staggeringly, swiftly moving year.
The rains have drenched and
broken down the muddy banks
of my heart and I find I am flooded
with sadness ……
Yet from here,
I see the opportunity
to rebuild with purpose …
for as I sit with Love,
Love sits with me.