More Kittens

Kitten Goodness (and Ci Vediamo Dopo)

Meet the kittens! And the beloved Gus, who was very happy to meet the kittens.

Tomorrow I'm off on a two-month adventure, so I won't be posting the writing of the women in my group anymore. (I'm happy to report that there will be someone else taking over the group for the summer, though.) So, I may transition this blog to a sort of travel update with photos and perhaps the occasional anecdote. I don't have a set itinerary, but I know I will start in Hanoi, visiting friends there. Then I fly out of Bangkok two months later.

Yippee!

Escapes! More Writing from the Group

This last week, it was a real joy to walk in and share with the writers all of your positive comments and feedback. I printed all comments I'd received over email and the comments here and read them aloud--members were so moved that we had an impromptu reading for the family (meaning everyone else living in the therapeutic community, plus staff and the director of the residence). Each of these women read their own work beautifully. Per the name of this blog--which is taken from the Rumi line that "God's joy moves from unmarked box to unmarked box, from cell to cell..."--it was a happy moment.

This week, the prompt was to "write about escape"--either from a personal or fictional perspective. Some of those pieces follow, while others are the "free write." I hope that you enjoy them, and once again, thank you kindly for reading.


Also, before I move on to this week's installment, I wanted to state again that these are pieces from the members of the writing group that I lead, through the New York Writer's Coalition and not my own writing. (That one was for you, Anna!) As always, all readings are posted anonymously, due to privacy reasons.

*****

LOVE, IF YOU'RE EVER IN THE NEIGHBORHOOD

Love, you came to us
When we were on our own
You sung your song at our wedding
Came to share our home
You sat down at our table
Had a cup of wine.
You kept us together, love
and helped us pass the time.
If you're ever in the neighborhood,
Ever, ever in the neighborhood,
Stop by and say hello...have a cup
If you're ever in the neighborhood
Love, be sure to look us up.
When the babies came, they knew your name.
Your love was in the air.
Then we got too busy to know
That you were there.
Love, we didn't mean it.
Did we make you leave?
It's not that we forgot.
You know you're what we need.
If you're ever in the neighborhood.

*****

CRAZY

I am in a bad mood!
Then I am upset and agitated.
Then I am hyper.
Then I am strong.
Then I am meek.
Then I am calm.
Then I am sad.
Then I am mad.
Then I am shifting from books, to looks, to cooks, to crooks,
to me again.

I am tired.
I am awake.
I am hungry.
I am full.
I am full of of shit, with a cherry on top, top of the mop, hip hop, stop drop, drop dead. Drop dead fred.

I want a break.
I want a challenge.
I am loud.
I am proud.
I am quiet.
I am observant.
I am manic.
I am depressed.
I am bipolar crazy.

*****


BEAUTIFUL DAY

I had a beautiful day on Wednesday. My daughter came to the facility and I introduced her to all of my peers. She even ate lunch with me. It was awesome, having my first mother's day with my daughter in more than nineteen years. Thanks to my higher power. Amen.

*****

TODAY

Today as I sit here, wondering what the world is doing, I stop, look up in the sky and there is a shadow or thing that makes me wonder again, is this how the world is going to be, like the shadow in the sky floating by floating by. Tell me: what is the world going to be like? A shadow in the sky?

*****

More Writing

The following pieces are from this last week's session of our writing group (which is at a FT "therapeutic community"). Some are from the "free write," where members write about whatever is on their mind. Some are from an exercise called "Three Things..." a loose variation on the following line from Mary Oliver:

"To live in this world you must be able to do three things: to love what is mortal; to hold it against your bones knowing your own life depends on it; and, when the time comes to let it go, to let it go."

Thanks to everyone who responded so positively to the last post. I'm heading to group again tonight and am really looking forward to sharing your feedback. I was very touched and I am sure the writers will be as well. Once again, it is our pleasure to share the following with you.


TODAY

Today, I went outside and walked to the bus stop. The bus came, so I decided to go for a ride. The sun was so bright and warm that my jacket came off on the bus. The sky was bright and clear. The wind went through my hair. It was a sunny day, and every day will be sunny.




MY BROTHER

My brother
My family
My son

Well, my brother passed away on October 3. He was my inspiration. I can't live without him, he was the most important part of my life. He was caring about his family. He loved us so much that he had to leave us.

He will be missed. I love him so much. He was very happy about everything in life, that he brings tears to my eyes.



MY LIL BOY

I miss your smile, your voice, the way your voice was going up and down deep the low with adolescent-hood. You are a young man now, and I have never been apart from you this long in your whole short 15 year old life. But I know and you know that you are God's child and before you can drop a tear--which I know you haven't--I'll be there again to wipe them away.

I love you. You are my song in the car. Just look into the reflection and you'll see me, Mommy. Does he know? Does he think of me? Like me of him? Does he?


FAMILY

God
My family
Serenity

I can't live without these things because they make me happy and I thank God for giving me another chance to live so my husband can have trust in me and so we can stay as a family. And it shows my family how strong I feel about staying clean and sober, one day at a time.



MY BODY

How else to taste fresh cherries? Or to love the touch of fabric on my fingertips? Or to speak about what it is that we love? A fluttering in my stomach, an aching in my heart, the beginning of all beginnings. What we feel.

Exercises We Wanted to Share: My Heart

One of the highlights of my week is facilitating a weekly writing group at a "therapeutic community," a FT residence for women from various situations, including those recently from rehab/detox, the prison system, or the streets. Many are dealing with addiction issues. The focus of the group is generating work, and so on a typical night, we write, we share, we write some more. This past Monday, I suggested that the writers take ten minutes and use the phrase "My heart..." as a jumping off point. After reading the resultant pieces to one another, a member suggested that we share these with the world outside--and so here they are, offered humbly, from our hearts to yours. For privacy reasons, all pieces are being posted anonymously.

MY HEART

My heart is a bright red, flowing with Royal Red. My love pumps through my body, consuming my fears, making me rejoice and become hopeful for another day. In my Darkest Hour, on the Battlefield, my heart is proud, beating fast and hard as the legions of jealousy, envy, evil crowd around me. No tears. No fears, for I am a warrior ready for battle.

My heart is Sexual and Sensual, delivering liquid heat burning bright from passion. Like gasoline. Light a match and I explode in your arms, infecting your soul. And becoming one.

My heart is strong, loving. I love 'til death, clutching your hand, whispering honey in your ears. Causing the sweetness to cover you whole.

I am unconditional. I am loyal. I am true, my heart is of a royal blood line. Even in rags, I prevail the envious claw at my garments, just to feel the realness of my heart.

My heart is a red rose. I bloom in beauty. My aroma entices the lovers at their peak ecstasy. If my heart is mistreated and hurt, I die. I enclose. I fall apart. Petals hit the ground. Death has come. All gone. I turn cold, cold as ice, never to return to you ever again, ignore your existence. Forget you in all.

But I recover, in Birth again, in Spring, ready to give love all over again.

*****

BRIGHTNESS

At the moment my heart is closed, as the blood runs through it in vain. It goes flow, floater, fail. It cold. So cold that I don't know if it's my heart or a dream, as I lay here in my bed, thinking how my heart is beating faster and fast. It's the sound of rain on my window pane.

*****

SCREAMS, SCREAMS

Holla, holla
My heart is warm and open
Open like all the back doors.
Expanding to reach out to the horizons,
To all of the other souls that are open to be explored, saved, helped.
Like a baby calf and his mother, nourishing, nourishing, nourishment.
Some of my heart weeps for a lot of my sisters who are lost for all sorts of reasons,
Spiritually or either neglected.
I weep for my sisters, my biological and my paternal.
We are one. I just wish we could start to see the beauty in eachother
And grow higher than the tallest trees and the highest cloud.
Climb the beanstalk. Take flight
To hold our heads up and smile, for my heart is geared to repair or mend\
Or help or heal or touch to restore to want more for everyone.
Especially me. Myself, my heart is very open, receptive and I try
To keep it this way to function to breath.
No air!
Food for the soul.

*****

I HAVE FOUND MY HEART GOLD

My heart is aching now, with a frown. It's like torn in two. The other beat is slow, down. It's OK for now. I wear a frown to cover up the pain. So I slow down, take the arrow out of my heart. I want to live. I have to strive. For now, keep on and on. Don't stop, heart. I'll mend you back together, with the help of God. it will be one, a beat of life. So how can I mend my broken heart? Lay down. Take it slow. Be still. It will mend. I have a good heart, not a heart of stone. I have found my heart gold. It's not cold. Getting, warming, and warming to live.

My heart beats.

*****

LITTLE BREAK

There is a little break in this heart. Just a little. It's tender, it's tall, it's sitting on the shelf. But then again, then again, then again, not.

It beats, actively, strongly, moving through the places that defy logic, circumstance, all the spaces we have left to fill. And over and over and over again. When that space opens up, I'm like, A-ha! I quickly forget the inaccessible-wouldn't-really-care-for-him-if-he-were-available-anyway man. There is only the one who loves me, because he loves all of life and that's just what I see in his eyes.

Last week, I had a dream, buildings burning, full of fear, but not all the way, not 100% because somewhere, somehow I was still moving. And if everything was burning down around me, it would be hard not to say, hell yeah.

As Janis Joplin once said, freedom is just another word for nothing left to lose. And so if there is death then there is, too, rebirth, a rising, and when the smoke clears, I remember something. It's a voice, someone else's voice, saying, "My heart, it closed up one day and hasn't been open for business since."

Hearing those words terrifies me, in my own body, in my own head, maybe even in my own voice. But then, what we hear, what we are able to hear, is also what we can heal. And so there, I don't go back to the day my heart slammed shut. Nah. That would be for what? My heart, it doesn't want to be open for business ever again, to serve a transactional love that's not really love. That's what I need you to know.

There you are, my friend, eyes glowing, lit up by fireworks and tiki torches against the night sky. You are free, shimmering against a backdrop of so much more than our minds even understand.

Here, against that dark and lovely sky, is my life. I remember something: wake up, wake up, wake up, little butterfly. It's late and we have so far to go.