Voiceless Chick - part 2

There is something really incredible about using the arts to break open areas of our life that might otherwise remain stuck in our heads. When I consider Voiceless Chick, I can give you all sorts of psychological reasons about why she is in my life – and they are highly evolved assessments...just ask me ☺. So, one might think that with all of that knowledge, I could keep VC from showing up. Unfortunately it’s not quite that simple. The understanding is helpful and as I mentioned yesterday, I realize it is important for me to listen when my stuck chicks show up.

The beauty of using arts such as collage, journaling and poetry to help process is that they give us a view from a new angle. (Right brain. Left brain. You know the drill.) I have been using Julia Cameron’s morning pages for more than five years now. Some days they feel like drivel and other times if I stick with it I find words flowing out that were buried deep inside. Often they feel otherworldly as though a Source greater than I is writing.

If I follow the process, there is often a visible shift in the voice in which I write. This happened while contemplating VC. The portion I shared yesterday was written in first person. The continuation shared here has a shift to second person.

You are just a little girl.
Close your eyes and breathe.
Listen to your inner voice.
It is strong and clear.
Listen and calm yourself with
your inner voice of authority.

My hand is here.
You are safe.
I hear your pleas.
Yes, my child,
You have a voice.
A voice within you that you and
I can hear.

You are not crazy.
You will not disappear.
You are made of light.
Pure light.
Lucy of the light.

Yes, they may talk and
whisper behind your back, but
You have a voice.
You have reclaimed it.
You can be calm in the midst of this storm.
Your voice is valid.

You have hands to reach down and
take the gag from your mouth.
You have tools.
Inner strength and authority.
You have me to help you speak.
I spoke and you listened.

So, what do you make of this? Do you think I need to be committed to a mental hospital since I am hearing voices? Or is this something to which you can relate? How do the arts play into your spiritual walk? Who might be your stuck chicks waiting to receive a voice?

partial collage by lucy 7.31.09

queen of the rodeo

Sitting in writing class, we are handed our evening’s exercise to write dialogue. My mind goes blank. I close my eyes and lay my head on the desk while others around me begin to frantically scribble on their notebooks or type away on computer keyboards. Seconds pass, perhaps even minutes. The only dialogue is the one running through my head that begins to question my creativity and my motives. What are you doing in this class? I think about the question and soon themes begin to run through my head: Mother. Jonathon. Spiritual Journey. Authentic voice. They weave and interconnect with each other and morph into an amazing story.

Am I mad? Crazy? Self-absorbed to even consider writing this stuff? What if people read it and hate it? What if they don’t read it at all? Would that be worse?

Wait! my inner voice slows down the stampede of negative thoughts. Who are you writing for? What do you want? What do you need from this?

I need to tell the story – even if I don’t know what “the story” is. It’s writing itself by pouring out in splashes and spills – dribbling out through a sentence or two – a word of dialogue here or there.

Just keep writing, the muse says.

The bold inner critic pipes up: Who the heck do you think you are? No one wants to read your words. Heck, you can’t even string a reasonable sentence together.

Other voices chime in while the dust and chaos of the stampede builds. You gotta get it right. Be sure to cross all your t’s and dot your i’s. Punctuation counts. Be sure it’s all true. You don’t want to make anything up do you? People might find out you’re a fraud and a liar just like James Frey.

“But, but, but”, the stuttering child says. “I’m a good writer. Mrs. Craig said so.”

Yea, but that was in the fourth grade. You’re 52 years old now, more than ½ way toward the grave. Give it up, old girl.

It feels like the whole negative committee of my mind has circled up and threatens to push me over the precipice into the gulch of unfulfilled dreams. Give up. Give up. Give up. Give up.

I put my hands over my ears, squeeze my eyes tightly shut and begin to breathe deeply until a new voice enters the midst. “Thank you all for coming,” a calm woman sitting tall in the saddle appears, “but we won’t be needing your input today.”

I like this woman. She’s like Lucy all grown up. She is strong and kind. Her voice is like velvet and her words drift over the raucous committee like a gentle mist covering the valley of a fairy tale. The naysayers begin to lay down one by one. Sarcasm gives one last ditch effort before tumbling out of my mind, So you think you can do this thing, huh? Yea, right, she says weakly.

And then the velvet-voiced woman is joined by another and another and another as they all chime in with cheering and encouraging voices.

“Just keep writing! You are the Queen of this rodeo!!!”

collage by Kathy Otero - a gift from my husband

what type writer...

You Should Be A Poet

You craft words well, in creative and unexpected ways. And you have a great talent for evoking beautiful imagery... Or describing the most intense heartbreak ever. You're already naturally a poet, even if you've never written a poem.

What Type of Writer Should You Be?

I. I. I.

"You find reasons to procrastinate, since to not work is to not make mistakes."

--from Art & Fear

Yesterday, I sat in my pajamas for several hours. I pondered the lack of response by readers at this space. I listened to the rain. I ate Halloween candy. I tried to nap. I read a little. I decided to give up writing...I. I. I.

"We have met the enemy and he is us." --Pogo

I have met the enemy and she is I! Think I'll get dressed today and go walk in the rain ☺.

are you a narcissist?

It is the beginning of a new term at school and once again the topic of blogging has surfaced. I am part of a small group of instructors who works with students to assist their training to become counselors, pastors and hopefully more aware human beings. Words like “narcissistic” and “attention-seeking” get tossed around along with statements of “I just don’t get it.” “It” being the blogging culture and the narcissists being the blog writers.

Hmmmm. Are you talking about me? I wonder. It is a confusing time as I well know there are people who blog about their personal lives in infinite detail and enter into many a ‘conversation’ without aforethought to crossing personal boundaries. Still, I sit back and listen to my peers—some old, some new—discuss this topic that is heartfelt to me. One newcomer tiptoes into the dialogue stating that their spouse does a bit of blogging about their family—principally posting new pictures of their child and momentous occasions such as graduation. Another suggests possibly putting controls onto that blog so that only invited guests can see what has been posted.

I have heard this conversation before. It is a recurring theme and an important one to consider. I stay silent for this one. A trusted colleague who knows my heart (& my blog) smiles at me from across the room. I cannot imagine limiting who can or cannot read what I choose to post. I think of all of the life and connection I would have missed had I not chosen to “go public” and open myself up to the world around me. Neither can I imagine posting about details of my life which I consider too intimate or mundane to be spread across the blogosphere.

I consider what it would be like for a student to see that my dog has died or that I am having a bad day or a good one. For them to consider that I have struggles and joys. That I am married and have children and go on road trips alone. What if they found out that I am (yikes) HUMAN? Oh my, would that be the end of our professional relationship? I wonder about all of this because we are asking students to be more authentic and be in touch with who they are and what brings them alive. How can we ask them to do something we are not willing to do ourselves? Somehow I see my most authentic self coming out on these pages. Still I do not hand out my website or make a big deal about this space and my alter ego gets all of the credit ☺, but if someone were to run across this page by accident…I wonder…