acceptance

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“Metamorphisis”

Published October 16, 2011 by Susan Woodward

Your touch has cracked the

Crystal chrysalis ‘round my heart,                                                           metamorphisis

Thawing its icy exterior with a kiss.

And now the dilemma…

Shall I hold back, waiting,

Hoping you will peel this shell away,

Or do I burst forth

To test these new wings,

Daring to love again?

 

You give me the strength to try…

“That Ol’ Greasy Spoon”

Published October 16, 2011 by Susan Woodward

Oh, there is no substitute for the experience of the Ol’ Greasy Spoon!

Something about surviving the Garbage Plate

Should earn one a badge of honor…

What is a Garbage Plate, you ask?

(As if the name weren’t self-explanatory!)

 

Pull up a greasy booth

And feast upon a platter half covered with macaroni salad,

The rest with a mound of mushy, burned homefries

(Or were they once mashed potatoes?

The absorbed grease might make one think so!)

Onto this delectable pile add:

Two cheeseburger patties (hold the buns!),

Plops of mustard,

An orgy of onions,

All topped with a gray, minced mystery meat

Seasoned with the unidentifiable.

 

Now why, you might ask, are you awarded two slices of bread with this concoction?

Well, you need something to soak up all that grease

Or else it will slosh and slip through

Your digestive tract amidst waves of nausea.

A quick glance tells me I’m the only female in the place—

Uh oh!  My curiosity might bring the fate of Blue Beard’s wives

To become that gray, minced mystery meat

With the unidentifiable seasoning!

A misogynist’s delicacy subliminally served to the

T-shirts and ties,

Khakis and jeans,

Cell phones and pagers amongst ball caps and key rings

Lined up seven deep for their daily lube jobs.

“Presence”

Published October 16, 2011 by Susan Woodward

“What if…?”

“If only…”

“Will I ever…?”

Run through my lonely mind

Like a skipping phonograph left to run,

The words echoing like Chinese water torture

In the silence of my emptiness.

Filling the void by filling my bed—

Uncleanliness lingers after lust prevails,

Requiring more than soap to wash away

The impurity of putrid passion

In the arms of a stranger;

A reminder of what I don’t have

Once the encounter is over.

Loneliness intensified by a line of lovers

Who vanish after taking their fill

Leaving me with

“What if…?”

“If only…”

“Will I ever…?”

But friendship turns loneliness to solitude,

For even when absent, a friend is there,

Present in my life is not present in my sight.

Solitude is filled with

Contemplation

Reflection

Growth

Whereas loneliness is a bottomless chasm

That all the physical presence in the world cannot fill.

The gift of a willing ear,

A knowing smile,

And unconditional trust

Alleviates the pain and

Elevates my soul to a heightened awareness

That absent does not mean gone

And that solitude can be a

Precious prelude to intimacy.

 

Lifting the needle from the phonograph,

I smash the vinyl disk

Like the outdated mode that it is,

Confidant that I can hear the

Golden silence of solitude.

 

A Garden of Memories: Freedom to Live

Published October 16, 2011 by Susan Woodward

Close your eyes and relax.  Now take three deep breaths: one for body, one for mind, and one for spirit.  Take one last very deep breath and hold it.  Just when you think you cannot hold the breath any longer, pull in just a bit more air.  Again, when you feel as if you cannot continue holding the breath, pull in just a little more.  When you finally do release your breath, do so very slowly in a long continuous exhale until you have released all that you were holding.  Breathe slowly and deeply as you continue to relax.  Relax all the muscles of your body: your legs, your arms, your shoulders, and your jaw.  Completely relax.

Imagine that you are sinking down into the furniture, and in turn sinking through the floor.  Allow yourself to continue sinking down and down, all the while feeling completely relaxed.  You pass deep down into the earth and suddenly find yourself in a cavern, nestled comfortably in the bottom of a shallow boat.  There are soft blankets around you, keeping you safe, warm, and relaxed.  The boat is caught by the current of a narrow river, and you find yourself floating along, emerging from the darkness of the cave, and fully surrounded by a protective white light.  The river flows through a lush green forest, and the sky above is a deep blue.  You are able to lie back, looking up at the trees as the boat continues to float through the forest.  As you float along, the tree branches overhead become more intertwined, and the boat enters what seems to be a tunnel through the trees.  Even though the sun is now only filtering through the trees, you still feel relaxed and centered as the boat continues on its course.  The sound of birdsong lulls you into a deeper state of relaxation, and you watch the gentle breeze rippling the leaves above you.

After a while, the boat gently comes to a stop at a sandy bank.  You are now deep in the forest, and the birdsong has begun to dissipate.  The only sound at the moment is the gentle rustling of the breeze.

Sit up and look around.  You have returned to the place where you first found the mirror and saw the face of your inner heroic archetype.  How does it feel to be back here?  Step out of the boat.  There is sand mixed with the soft grass on the bank, and it is pleasurable to stand there in your bare feet.  Explore the small glade in which you find yourself.  One thing you are particularly pleased to see is a very large, very old tree.  The last time you were here, the tree had been destroyed, but here it is, fully restored.   Look around.  Everything is in bloom, and the leaves and grasses are greener than you ever remember them.  How do you feel being here?

In particular, several plants or flowers catch your eye.  Many of those that stand out for you are those that you’d noted while on your journey.  What are they?  What significance might these particular plants hold for you?  Instead of merely writing down which plants you see today, gather a couple of each to take with you.  Near the tree you find a small trowel and some potting containers.  Carefully dig up each plant or flower, being mindful of the roots.  Place each one into its own container and add a bit of earth to protect the delicate roots.  Each of these will be replanted into your own little garden just outside the door of your special place as a reminder of your journey.  What will each plant or flower remind you of?  How does that demonstrate some particular significance from your journey?

Once you have potted all the plants and flowers that you intend to take with you, gently place them in the stern of the boat.  It begins to look like a floating garden, and the mixture of colors and scents is pleasing.  Put the trowel back next to the tree for the next time you visit.  While you are doing that, a slight breeze carries the sound of your name.  Smiling, you recognize the voice as that of your inner heroic archetype.  Stand up with your arms extended fully, and allow the breeze to blow over you.  Your name sounds like music in the air, allowing you to feel as if this is your personal spot in the forest that no one else can experience in the same way.  The zephyr is like an embrace.  How does that make you feel?  What thoughts do you have about being in this place?  You know now that you can return here any time you wish, for it has claimed a part of you.  Any time you wish to contemplate life’s journey, or work out a problem, or simply just to be still, you can get into your boat and come back.

Looking around one last time, turn and head for the boat.  It looks beautiful with all the flowers and plants in it.  Just as you begin to walk towards your boat, a glint of light off to the right of your peripheral vision catches your attention.  It is coming from the hole in the tree.  Again, you hear your name on the breeze.  Go to the tree to see what it is.  Reaching in, you find that something has been left for you.  When you pull it out, you discover that your special mirror has been restored.  Look into it.  Your inner archetype is smiling back at you.  He/she is thanking you for honoring him/her with your journey.  What else does he/she say to you?  What words of wisdom are you left with?  How do you feel as you look into his/her eyes once more?

As you continue to look at the reflection, the image begins to swirl and morph into the reflection that you know best.  The changes that took place on the journey have become a permanent part of you and are evident in your appearance.  Gaze at the image that you present to the world.  How does this make you feel?

The completion of this journey has left you with many possibilities for the future.  Where is it you wish to go next?  What are your plans for future excursions?  What do you intend to do with what you’ve learned from this journey just ended?  How can you encourage others to follow their own paths?  These are questions that will stay with you as you move on to the next stage of your life.  How do you feel about that?

Take the mirror with you as you enter the boat.  Anytime you wish to remember that part of yourself, you need turn no further than your own reflection.  Climb into your boat once more, and pull the warm blankets around you.  Take a long look at your garden that you intend to transplant near the door of your special place.  Its beauty makes you smile before lying down for the ride back.  Snuggle comfortably beneath the blankets and settle yourself.

This time the boat begins to float in the opposite direction, taking you back from whence you came.  Gaze up at the trees, watching the ripples of the breeze fluttering through the leaves.  Soon you hear the birdsong once more.  Emerging from the tunnel of trees into a place where the sky is clearly visible, you notice that it has become night, and the stars are twinkling brightly overhead.  While you are looking up, a shooting star streaks across the sky.  Make a wish.  What is it you wish for?  Keep looking toward the sky until it disappears from view as the boat slips into the cave once more.  Imagine how you plan to arrange your garden with your beautiful, fragrant treasures.  Take in a deep breath and drink in their fragrance once more as you begin to feel yourself rising from the soft blankets in the boat.  You know that you can go to your special room any time you wish as well.  Your journal and your book of symbolism will always be available for you to return to whenever you want to read through them.  You will be able to take your books to sit with them next to your blooming garden and remember the lessons of your journey.

As you continue to rise, you become more and more aware of your surroundings, and soon you are able to sense the furniture beneath you.  This is the room from which you began this journey not so very long ago.  As you become more and more aware of the room around you, you remember the face in the mirror, your beautiful flowers, and your special places in your imagination.  These images will stay with you as you awaken from your rest.

Taking three deep breaths, one for body, one for mind, and one for spirit, you open your eyes to find yourself in a familiar place.

 

Some Will, Some Won’t: Being the Master of Two Worlds

Published October 16, 2011 by Susan Woodward

Close your eyes and relax.  Now take three deep breaths: one for body, one for mind, and one for spirit.  Take one last very deep breath and hold it.  Just when you think you cannot hold the breath any longer, pull in just a bit more air.  Again, when you feel as if you cannot continue holding the breath, pull in just a little more.  When you finally do release your breath, do so very slowly in a long continuous exhale until you have released all that you were holding.  Breathe slowly and deeply as you continue to relax.  Relax all the muscles of your body: your legs, your arms, your shoulders, and your jaw.  Completely relax.

Imagine that you are sinking down into the furniture, and in turn sinking through the floor.  Allow yourself to continue sinking down and down, all the while feeling completely relaxed.  You pass deep down into the earth and suddenly find yourself awakening in your bed in your very special place.  Stretch cat-line in contentment as you look around your room.  Admire your favorite possessions and embrace the familiarity of being home.  It almost seems as if the long journey was a dream, and yet you know it was not.  Get out of bed and go to each of your special items and remind yourself of why it holds this status for you.  Who or what does each remind you of?  How does the memory of each make you feel?

Everything is so familiar, and yet you can sense of difference in the air.  The difference is not with the place; it is within you.  How have you changed?  Do these changes make you think or feel differently about being home?  How does this make you feel?  You realize that your return has left you with an obligation to share what you have learned with others.  How do you feel about that?

While you are perusing the room, a pleasant, tantalizing scent wafts in the air.  You are suddenly greeted with, “Well, I’m glad to see you’re finally back!”

Turning around, you find the one person with whom you wanted to share your experiences sitting at the table.  A hearty breakfast awaits you, and the table has been set for two.  Who is this person?  Why is he/she the one you with which you most wish to share your tale?  How do you feel upon seeing him/her?  What has he/she prepared for your breakfast in honor of your return?

Greet this person with a big hug before sitting down at the table.  The two of you enjoy the wonderful food, and he/she listens to the tales of your adventures.  How does he/she react?  What does he/she say about what you’ve learned?

“You’ve changed,” he/she observes.  As you continue to talk, it is apparent that he/she approves of the changes in you.  How does this make you feel?  What does he/she remark about the changes?

As you continue with your meal, it is obvious that he/she is becoming more and more wistful with the description of each adventure.  For a moment, you think that he/she is no longer listening and has begun daydreaming.  Question him/her about it.  How does this reaction make you feel?

His/her response surprises you.  He/she tells you that he/she had been contemplating trying something new, but was unsure of whether or not to proceed.  However, after hearing your tale, you have awakened in him/her the courage to take that step forward.  How does this make you feel?  What is it that he/she would like to do?  How has your story impacted him/her?  What can you do to help him/her get started?  You can feel a change taking place in your relationship to this person.  What is it?  How do you feel about this change?

After finishing breakfast, you talk for a bit more before he/she arises to leave.  He/she has many plans to make, and is eager to get started after listening to you.  How do you feel about that?  He/she gives you a big hug and says that he/she will return soon to talk with you more.  Say good-bye and open the door for him/her.  When you do, you discover that there is someone else on the doorstep that was just about to knock.  Who is this person?

Say good-bye to one friend as you welcome your newcomer.  This new person is also a good friend, and you are glad to see him/her.  This person, however, does not seem to be as pleased to see you.  When he/she enters, he/she barely returns your welcoming hug before taking a seat and turning to you with, “So.  You’re back.”  The tone carries something negative, but you can’t quite put your finger on what is wrong.  You’ve been so close in the past and are puzzled by his/her reaction.

“So what did you do while you were off on your vacation?” he/she demands.  Again, the tone sounds condescending and puts you on your guard.  What feelings are going through you?  Why might he/she be acting this way?

Try to remain pleasant with this person who obviously isn’t.  Cheerfully describe your adventures just as you had earlier.  Somehow, though, based on his/her stiff reaction, you begin to feel as if you’d done something wrong by going on the journey at all.  Where is this feeling of guilt coming from?  Why do you even feel guilty at all?  You’ve done nothing wrong, although this person obviously believes you have.  What do you suppose has led him/her to the conclusion that your journey was a bad thing?  How does that make you feel?

As you talk, you hear yourself downplaying certain parts of the adventure.  Why would you censor yourself?  Which parts do you downplay?  Why?  How does it make you feel to know that you cannot share your entire experience with this person because it obviously makes him/her upset?  What has caused this chasm in your once-close relationship?  How do you begin to feel about yourself as you hear how you downplay your experiences?

His/her comments are repetitive, and all he/she seems to say is, “Oh. Uh huh.  How nice for you.”  How does this make you feel?  Why do you suppose he/she is acting like this?

Before long, the conversation becomes too unbearable for you to stand.  It seems that the only way to talk to this person is to change the subject entirely and try to talk about something you have in common.  However, resentment has begun to build in you, and you find your end of the conversation as stiff as his/hers.  How do you feel about this change between you two?  Is there anything that can make things be the way they used to be when you were close?  How do you see the relationship evolving?

As the conversation becomes more uncomfortable, your companion decides that it’s time to leave.  At this point you are filled with conflicting emotions.  This is someone that you care about, and yet his/her reaction to your journey has left you filled with negative emotions.  What are these emotions?

After he/she leaves, the negativity still hangs in the air.  While you know that you’ve done nothing wrong in following your call to adventure, your friend’s reaction has left you feeling as if you should not have gone.   Ask yourself once again if there is something that can be done to heal the relationship.

You decide that the events of the day have left you tired and confused.  You were so happy to share with your first visitor who actually seemed inspired to begin his/her own journey.  Revisit those feelings that reinforce the positive aspects of sharing your experiences.  Knowing that there is nothing you can do at the moment to change the way your second visitor views your journey, keep your focus on the positive.  In your heart, you know that change involves the risk of displeasing those who do not invite change into their own lives.  The change in you has changed the relationship, and the change in the relationship is uncomfortable to the person who wished to maintain the status quo.  Perhaps, with time, he/she will come to accept what has changed in you and the relationship can grow.  If not, are you willing to bear his/her resentment at seeking personal growth?

For the remainder of the day, pour over the extensive notes you took while on your journey.  What observations do you make?  Pay attention to the types of plants and trees and animals you mentioned in your journal.  How were these significant at that point in the journey?  Fortunately, you own a book of symbolism.  It is a rather large volume that sits high upon one of your bookshelves.  Bring it down and begin to look up the significance of everything you wrote in your journal.  Even though you have returned, these symbols have lessons to teach you.  This is an activity that will bring you much pleasure in the future as you begin to analyze your journey and its significance to your personal growth.

The activity calms your mind and alleviates the negativity you’d felt earlier.  You know in your heart that this journey was the best thing for your growth and that no one has the right to negate that growth, no matter who he/she is.  Feeling better, you tidy your place after your visits and prepare a simple supper for yourself.  Now how do you feel about being home?

Relaxed and calm once more, you decide that it is time to go to sleep.  Curl into a comfortable position, and take a deep breath.  Feel yourself drifting away into the darkness.  Soon you begin to feel yourself rising from your very own bed in your special place.  As you rise, you become more and more aware of your surroundings, and soon you are able to sense the furniture beneath you.  This is the room from which you began this journey not so very long ago.  As you become more and more aware of the room around you, you think about your two friends.  Send them both positive thoughts and energy and know that your journey was right for your personal growth.  This realization will remain in your memory as you awaken from your rest.

Taking three deep breaths, one for body, one for mind, and one for spirit, you open your eyes to find yourself in a familiar place.

The Whisper From Within: a Call to Adventure

Published October 16, 2011 by Susan Woodward

Close your eyes and relax.  Now take three deep breaths: one for body, one for mind, and one for spirit.  Take one last very deep breath and hold it.  Just when you think you cannot hold the breath any longer, pull in just a bit more air.  Again, when you feel as if you cannot continue holding the breath, pull in just a little more.  When you finally do release your breath, do so very slowly in a long continuous exhale until you have released all that you were holding.  Breathe slowly and deeply as you continue to relax.  Relax all the muscles of your body: your legs, your arms, your shoulders, and your jaw.  Completely relax.

Imagine that you are sinking down into the furniture, and in turn sinking through the floor.  Allow yourself to continue sinking down and down, all the while feeling completely relaxed.  You pass deep down into the earth and suddenly find yourself in a vast cave, nestled comfortably in the bottom of a shallow boat.  There are soft blankets around you, keeping you warm, completely safe, and relaxed.  The boat is caught by the current of a narrow river, and you find yourself floating along, emerging from the darkness of the cave.  The river flows through a lush green forest, and the sky above is a deep blue.  A bubble of white light surrounds the boat completely, enveloping it in its safety, and you are able to lie back comfortably, looking up at the trees as the boat continues to float through the forest.  As you float along, the tree branches overhead become more intertwined, and the boat enters what seems to be a tunnel through the trees.  Even though the sun is now only filtering through the trees, you still feel relaxed, safe, and centered as the boat continues on its course.  The sound of birdsong lulls you into a deeper state of relaxation, and you watch the gentle breeze rippling the leaves above you.

After a while, the boat gently comes to a stop at a sandy bank.  You are now deep in the forest, and the birdsong has begun to dissipate.  The only sound at the moment is the gentle rustling of the breeze through the trees.

Getting out of the boat, you find yourself near a very large, very old tree.  Inhaling deeply, the scent of the forest is familiar to you, and you feel as if you’ve been here before.  It’s a pleasant feeling, even though you cannot remember precisely when you’d been here.

The breeze picks up slightly, but with it comes a faint new sound.  At first you think you are hearing things, but as the sound comes again, slightly louder, you cannot deny what you hear.  It is the sound of someone calling your name.  It comes again, yet you are not afraid.  It almost seems natural to hear your name being spoken in this place.  Listen to the voice calling you.  Is the pitch of the voice high or low?  What about the tone?  Does it seem imploring?  Demanding?  Beckoning?

You search for the source of the calling, and after walking around the area for a bit, you realize that the sound is coming from within the large, old tree.  Moving around the tree, you see a hole and realize that it is hollow.  The voice echoes from within.  You are not afraid, but mesmerized by the sound, and you step closer to the tree.  Peeking into the hole, you notice something glinting just inside.  Reaching in, you discover a beautiful hand mirror, and suddenly the voice becomes louder and more insistent.  It’s coming from the mirror itself.

You look into the mirror and are surprised at your reflection.  You do not see what you expect, which is the face you’ve come to know since birth.  What you see is something deeper inside, though still recognizable as you; it is the heroic archetype you have selected for yourself.

Gazing into your own eyes, what do you find there?  The mirror image speaks nothing more than your name, yet the expression on his/her face speaks volumes.  Memorize the image in the mirror and gauge your own feelings as you continue to look into your own eyes.  What emotions are going through you right now?  How do you feel as you continue to hear your name repeated?  Within a few minutes, however, the mirror image begins to blur and fade, and when it clears, you are able to see your face as you’ve always seen it.  The only difference is the gleam in your eyes.  Sit at the base of the old tree and reflect upon what has happened.

After a time, you sense that it is time to go.  You climb into your boat once more, and you pull the warm blankets around you.  The white light of safety envelopes the boat once more as it drifts away from the shore.  This time it begins to float in the opposite direction, taking you back from whence you came.  You gaze up at the trees, watching the ripples of the breeze fluttering through the leaves, and soon you hear the birdsong once more.  Emerging from the tunnel of trees into a place where the sky is clearly visible, you notice that it has become night, and the stars are twinkling brightly overhead.  The boat slips into the cave, and soon you begin to feel yourself rising from the soft blankets in the boat.  As you rise, you become more and more aware of your surroundings, and soon you are able to sense the furniture beneath you.  This is the room from which you began this journey not so very long ago.  As you become more and more aware of the room around you, you remember the face in the mirror, an image that will stay with you as you awaken from your rest.

Taking three deep breaths, one for body, one for mind, and one for spirit, you open your eyes to find yourself in a familiar place.

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