a black form torn from
wholeness
a hand outstretched with my
little piece of yes
an active bit of movement
finally
legs running-
TOWARD MY JOY!
i am she she is me coming
from my darkness
i claim her
torn joy
and
T R A N S F O R M
i raise my tentative hand
higher and higher toward
ability
toward possibility
toward peace
carved from pieces of
myself
i see her, she, *it*, and
finally me
and when i want to
i tear the stitches
from my own heart
and begin
again to
think my
yes yes yes
crowned again
with yes
i begin
this knowing
of the dark parts
of my happy self
offering chalkboard
witness
to that which
i must continue
to do
be
move through
i keep showing up
with raised hand and
extended bits of
yellow yes
i bring my valentine
into being
to try
again and again
to run
to stand
to move
to see
to allow
to continue
to be
yes-with the invitation
to dialogue i see
begin again
keep showing up
try again and again
run toward
your exalted yes
it is your royalty
your legacy
your heritage
all impulses and
synapses and
histories of
herstorys
before you
sit with
you in
this classroom
YOU
have been
given you
birthright
THIS IS THE
HOME WE'VE
BEEN CALLING
YOU TO--
keep showing up
the chalkboard
miracles are on their way
and you 2
and you 2
and you 2
and you 2
and you 2
and you 2
YES!
Still!
Yes!
Always YES
YES
YES
YES
when you want to
it's okay to
try again and
again
again
YES!
and from that thing that is your
empty center of
connection--
the vessel and
chords through
which you
have been
nourished
and passed
know--
we will meet
you there--
we will always
call you home
(for dinner)
Elizabeth wants to create little soul stations on every corner. She lives in the suburbs and she sees women carrying out transformative work on their own bodies via plastic surgery and thinks there is a better way. She aspires to be your local neighborhood shaman, your artista instead of your barrista, helping you jolt your soul with the wake up drink of Creativity. She imagines a commercially viable, local, friendly meeting spot. My only caveat is this: the neighborhood soccer moms ought to mix with the guy who collects tin cans, they have a lot to teach each other. It will take a wide open heart to make a space that will hold the mix that needs holding. You can check out more of what Elizabeth is up to at www.writressworder.com.
2 comments:
Oh wonderful Pat I keep checking back here to look for recent postings. I love your blog and your books and would love to find out how to be part of your community. Peter London was an early influence for me and I am currently reading your most recent book.
I remember traveling to New York City in my early twenties and meeting a shining man who was mosaic tiling the city lamp posts. I will check out Elizabeth's work.
Shelley
pat--
thank you for posting and sharing the spark of story for what might become possible in community. the power of what you made possible in that sacred studio space you transformed is the real story, though. your talent for holding open the space, inviting participants to fall in love with each other--driving home the imperative that this is a requirement and not an option, and then giving us space to feel all we felt in response to that invitation, and the niggling bits of humanity and judgement that always rise up to get in the way--and then the ART YOU MADE POSSIBLE for the rich way you opened us to ourselves and each other, the extraordinary silence we could speak into and simply say what was so from our writing you invited--and the awe and connection we were left with having shared that room, that magic, that you facilitated, that you invited, that you made room for--this is the real story. i will post it soon--and let you know when its up. your generostity at sharing your light is humbling. thank you for offering me space on your pages.
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