Writing for Healing – A Response Poem to Rumi

Back in June, I attended a writing workshop with Kat McNichol called “Writing for Healing” in Eden Mills. As one of the quick writing prompts, I wrote a poem Not Me.  It was written in response to the poet Rumi’s poem Not Here.

When the poem was introduced to us by Kat, I had such a negative internal response that I decided I should just deal with it in a written response. The result, created in five minutes, showed me the level of anger and weariness I had in dealing with the grief of my deceased husband and love of my life.

Kat asked if she could publish the poem in her online newsletter. Check out the poems (Rumi’s original and mine) and other stories by clicking on the link below.
https://www.dreamerswriting.com/stories-poems/barbara-heagy/

And by the way — if you have a chance to take a workshop with Kat McNichol, do it! She’s a fabulous teacher. There is another ‘Writing for Healing’ workshop coming up in October. Check for details at  www.dreamerswriting.com.

A Response Poem to Rumi’s Not Here

Not Me by Barbara Heagy

Oh, Rumi.
I do not want to hear this right now.
Don’t speak to me about bravery and sharp
compassion.
I have had howling hurt
And it sucks.

I have stood strong and full of courage.
“Turn and face the lions,” I said.
But the lions’ roaring pains my eardrums.
Their carnivorous breath makes me faint.
Their overpowering size tires me
As I pace the cage with them.

Copper and gold are not for me.
I have accumulated a treasure house of
such so-called riches.
Give me sun.
Give me breath.
God, give me pastrami.
Anything but more of your precious metals.

I am not half-hearted.
I am empty-hearted
Facing your sizzling ovens that shape the soul.

Empty-hearted, holding back,
I am now just well-enough and getting by.

Your challenge has depleted me,
Frozen my thoughts into debilitating ideas of
“I can do this.
This will be good for me.”

Well F’ you, Rumi.
I walk away from this challenge.
I’ve given at the office, thank you.

                                        

I Am From

As an introduction to each other at our recent Rhythmwood Soul Journey, Wendy Roman asked us to write a poem about ourselves from a basic form called “I Am From . . . “. All we had to do was fill in the blanks as we reminisced about our past and contemplated all the people and events that had formed who we are today. Here is my poem. What would your poem be?

I Am From by Barbara Heagy

I am from country farms,
From czardas and paprikash.

I am from grandma’s warm lap
like sheltering laughter.

I am from lilacs, fresh mown hay,
and bubbling creeks.

I am from hippies and hash,
From cool northern lakes and jumping fish.

I am from journals and contemplations,
From words and books and songs.

I am from breath and moving bodies.

I am from spiritual journeys danced in prayers,
laced with pain and grace.

I am from daughters to grandsons.

I am from love –
assured and unconditional.

I Have No Words – A Journey of the Soul

This past week I went on a retreat called Rhythmwood Soul Journey, led by Wendy Roman of Rhythmwood Dance Studio. For eight weeks before our retreat where we met in person, we had online assignments using poetry, journal writing, conscious dance and shared online conferences to introduce us to each other and prepare us with some basic movement principles and ideas for contemplation and discussion.

In the studio, Wendy used daily readings, journal writing, conscious dance, meditation, nature experiences and art to take us on a further soul journey of the feminine spirit.

On the last day of our wonderful week, I sat quietly and thought about how I would explain the past week to my friends and family. It was such a deep and meaningful experience that I truly had no words. But I put my pen to paper, and let the words just flow. This poem is what came out.

I HAVE NO WORDS

I have no words.

How do you explain this feeling of wholeness, connectedness, fulfilment to another?

How do you explain a journey of the soul where I, you, us, become equally important and valuable to the woven web?

How do you explain a creation of the spirit that fills and overflows through me, to you, to earth, to sky, to water, to fire and beyond?

How do you speak of the gentle care, the kindness, the deep felt gratitude for who I am, and who I become with you, and you, and you?

How do I explain the fire within, the fire without, the consuming fire that refines and invites you to new beginnings?

How do I explain the magic of dancing with another, where the flow between us becomes liquid energy that uplifts, intertwines, and releases the ‘me’ to become the ‘us’?

How do I explain the wonder of waves rushing to shore, the birds rising through song, the sky on fire, our very souls on fire?

How do I explain the specialness, the uniqueness of another? Through vulnerability and laughter and tears, and strength and weakness, through words and song and dance and art, a new creation was born.

How do I explain all this?

There are no words.

Wendy Roman is a gifted teacher and I would recommend taking a workshop or retreat with her in the future. Check out her website at www.rhythmwood.ca

A Balancing Act

 

Have you ever watched someone actually creating those wonderful balanced rock structures? You know the ones where they take a small stone and magically, or so it seems, balance another bigger rock on top of it, and then another, and another, until they hold together in one big delicate balance. They amaze me. I’ve tried it myself to no avail. I can’t even get two stones to balance, nevertheless, three, four or more.

This morning, catching up on my morning Facebook, I came across a friend’s posting of one of these incredible rock artists. I learned something watching the video, something I had never noticed before.

I’ve always thought that the structure was built one stone at a time, fully balancing the first one before the second, and then the third was added. But I noticed that the artist didn’t build them one at a time, fully balancing one before he balanced the others. He worked with the group, holding them together with his hands, as he built. If he let go too soon, before the final stone was put in place, the whole structure would fall. If he kept the group together long enough by holding them all with his hands, the final stone was often the one that put enough pressure on them all to hold the whole structure together. Each stone didn’t stand alone.  Each one was necessary and stood on the shoulders of the one above it simultaneously. The stones worked together, at the same time, to find that precarious balance.

That in itself can be a lesson in life. We think we have to move step-by-step, fully balancing one factor in our lives before we move on to the next when, in reality, we need to include all the elements, holding them together long enough until we can put the final factor in place to bring it all together as a balanced whole.

When we feel that we have to fully achieve one thing before we can move on to the next, this separation of the elements can hurt us. It leads to perfectionism which tends to stifle us, sometimes stopping us in our tracks in our intended progress. If we can’t even get one thing fully working in our lives, we feel we are not ready to move on to the next area of expertise and drop it all together. We give up and refuse to take the challenge. We never feel ready or capable or good enough. It can lead to poor self-esteem.

In reality, we often are balancing many components, multi-tasking, learning as we go, pulling the elements together in a jumble of ideas, until the final conclusion hits us full in the face. Or doesn’t. Sometimes we pull it off but the final structure is held in precarious balance, ready to fall at the slightest outside force. But so what? At least by trying to build something, refusing to give up, believing that more than one factor is at work in our lives at a time, we learn from our mistakes, and continue to move forward.

Years ago, I studied modern dance while getting my first undergraduate degree. After four years of study, I left and went travelling. When I got back, I went and visited my former professor of dance. She told me about a local recreation department that was looking for a teacher to lead a creative movement class for children. I told my teacher there was no way I felt ready to teach anybody about dance. What did I know? She assured me I did know enough, so I gathered up my courage and applied for the job. It was the beginning of a career in dance for me, both teaching and performing.

While at the same university, I met a woman in my dance class who was really just starting out in dance. She had been brought up in a very strict religious family, where dancing was not allowed. She couldn’t even skip properly at the first class. That didn’t stop her from teaching her Inter-Varsity social group everything she learned. Day by day, she learned something, and day-by-day, she took what she learned and taught it to others. Her confidence in herself amazed me. She didn’t feel she had to be fully accomplished to offer her skills to others. She was of the Maya Angelou philosophy, “When you learn, teach. When you get, give.”

The world is a busy, multi-factored, jumble of ideas and experiences. Don’t be afraid to pick up many of them and fearlessly start building your life. It’s all a balance. Make yours beautiful.

 

 

The Power of Telling Our Stories

Last night I attended the ‘Evening of Sharing – The Power of Telling Our Stories’ organized by Lisa Browning, One Thousand Trees Publications. The three speakers inspired me deeply with their unique life stories. They went beyond themselves and shared generously details of their lives from dealing with the death of a loved one, to writing our own stories instead of living through others, and mental illness and depression.
 
Margaret-Ann Brix shared her children’s story “Grampa’s Butterfly”, Melinda Burns, psychotherapist/writer/poet shared the importance of finding our true selves through writing and journaling, and Clay Williams spoke of his inspirational long distance runs for charity, specifically depression and mood disorders.
 
I bought Margaret’s book to share with my grandchildren and found her story to be a delightful metaphor on life and death.
 
Melinda began with a short meditation that focused and centered us. Her lesson was about mindfulness, being our true selves in the present moment. We can learn about ourselves by writing down our thoughts and feelings. She spoke of the difference between thinking, writing, and telling our stories. Writing is that safe space between thinking and telling, where we can record our thoughts and feelings in a safe space with no judgement from others.
 
Clay encouraged us to sign the Canadian flag that he carries with him when he runs in remembrance of someone we know who suffers with mental illness. “I would be honoured to run in their name,” he said. My signature joined hundreds of others to uplift those in my life that I care and pray for.
 
Thank you to all three speakers and to Lisa for organizing this special evening. Lisa holds “Evenings of Sharing” every month, each on a different theme. You can check them out at her website www.onethousandtrees.com.

Stormy Weather

I left my home yesterday at 4 p.m. in a torrential downpour, but it stopped and the sky turned blue again, so I continued on to my dinner party two hours away. Whew!!!! It was one of the craziest drives I have ever done. The wind was wild, whipping in gusts that could do serious damage. Four times I had to pull over and stop for screaming sirens from service vehicles passing. In the middle of it all, I thought “Why am I out here? I’m only going to a dinner party.” But, I persevered.

I saw whole huge 30 foot trees snapped in half and power lines leaning in downtown areas, road signs were spinning on their poles, 4 X 4 signs were ripped out of the ground, trees and branches were coming down the whole way, hydro lines were snapping, jumping, and twirling in the wind. I saw a car with its windshield smashed out from a flying tree and thick dust storms roaring across fields.

By the time I made it to my friend’s home in the country, I thought all was good. Their road was the worst. I had to drive around fallen branches and then, just before their driveway, a whole tree lay across the road and blocked my path. A fallen hydro wire was laying parallel to the road and I only saw it because I turned around and then noticed it. I did get to their home but had to go around a country block to get there.

By the time I left at 9 p.m. things had settled down but there were still fallen trees and power blackouts in several areas for the half-hour drive to my daughter’s where I stayed for the night. Crazy!!

I got through it. How? I kept both hands on the wheel, stayed alert to my surroundings, kept a calculated pace, slowing when I needed to, quickening up when it seemed necessary, and I kept to the main and less treeless roads and highways. Lots of luck and a good dose of prayer got me safely to my destination.

It was kind of like navigating the storms of life. We all will face them. All we can do is stay calm, keep thinking, face each moment as it comes and, for the things we can’t control, pray. I wish you well on the storms of your journey. Stay strong.

NOLA Jazz Music and Life Lessons

NOLA Jazz Music and Life Lessons – April 28, 2018

This month I visited the renowned city of New Orleans, the birthplace of jazz music. We stayed close to the French Quarter and had many opportunities every day to hear jazz music in a variety of venues – the street, small pubs, the beautiful Orpheum Theatre, aboard the Steamboat Natchez, and the night clubs of Frenchman Street. I’ve been to several jazz events and festivals in my life but, for some reason, the New Orleans musicians made me see my life differently. The way they related to each other as they played, their culture, their spirit, all spoke to me. It seemed there were some unspoken rules while playing that could be good examples for living a balanced, kind, and joyful life for us all.

Thank you, New Orleans musicians. This is what you taught me.

  1. Live in the moment. Catch the groove and ride it.
  2. Be creative. Look for the magic and let it happen.
  3. Be generous. Offer your best. Give it your all.
  4. Take turns. Share the glory. Give everyone a chance to shine.
  5. Be authentic. Be real. Be you, for you are special.

And, above all,

  1. Have fun.

Life is a celebration. Throw yourself into it and share your joy with others.

My Food, My Love

This past weekend, I enjoyed two full days of writing experiences at the University of Guelph’s Writer’s Workshop. Writers, authors and speakers shared a variety of topics of interest to writers and I was able to enjoy five different workshops. I enjoyed ‘Writing and Mindfulness’ with Melinda Burns, ‘Spiritual Memoir’ with Susan Scott and Eufemia Fantetti, and ‘Self-Publishing Your Children’s Book’ with Lisa Browning, Heather Embree and Sherry Lee on Saturday. Sunday I learned about ‘Traditional Publishing vs. Self-Publishing’ led by Robert Pavlis and ended the day with ‘Writing From Where You Are’ with Nikki Everts-Hammond.

They all were of interest but the one I had the most fun with was the final one of the weekend, ‘Writing From Where You Are.’ Nikki had us writing from beginning to end of the three hour workshop on many short, quick, spontaneous prompts. This year I was hoping for more spontaneity and creativity in my writing and Nikki didn’t disappoint. It was a lot of fun and there was some time for sharing the wonderful results with the group.

My favourite piece I wrote was prompted from Nikki’s challenge to write about your relationship to food as though it were another person in your life. We were allowed five minutes to get it all down in one spontaneous swoop. I got to share it with the group and we had a lot of laughs. I hope you enjoy it too.

My Food, My Love

Get over here, you little cutie. You know I love everything about you. How you fit so nicely in my arms and hands. How warm you feel all snuggled up close. I just want to absorb your delicious smell, stroke your smooth shoulders and back, turn you around and let my eyes feast on your colours and shapes.

           Then – then, I get to taste your deliciousness – a little bit sweet, a little bit spicy, always yumminess to my taste buds.

            I love taking you in with small gobbles. First the lip caress, then the tongue flick, sometimes a big slurp when you are extra delicious. (Which most times you are.) Then, only after that first nibble, do I take a full bite, and a slow chew, and I roll you around on my tongue as my taste buds explode and sparkle like those chunky candies that go bang in your mouth.

            But you don’t always taste that good. Sometimes you surprise me. You show up looking one way and tasting another. Like, you might be all yummy and creamy looking on the outside but the taste of you bites back when I put you in my mouth.

            But, I have to admit – those days are few. Most days you are just my little cutie. And I love you.

Nikki Everts-Hammond, of Scripted Images, offers workshops in ‘Writing Your Life’ and ‘Writing Your Memoir.’ She can be contacted by emailing her at nikki@scripted-images.com or phoning her at 519-400-3528.

Sign-up for this popular series of workshops at University of Guelph happens in January and classes fill up quickly as these quality workshops are all offered for free in early March. More information is at #ugwriters. I’ll remind you next year of the upcoming date as it approaches. It’s fun and informative. I’m going to be going back again.

 

 

The Still Point of the Turning World

Barb Heagy Dance in the Park 2015 242-002

This week Wendy Roman, of Rhythmwood Dance Studio, asked her Facebook readers what the phrase “Effortless Effort” means to them through dance. Another reader and dancer, Laine Magidsohn, suggested it be called “Dynamic Ease.” I like both phrases. Both phrases speak of finding that balance between active participation and passive release.

I think ‘Effortless Effort’ and ‘Dynamic Ease’, are both phrases of just stepping aside for a moment to connect with life’s energy force. Letting it flow within, embodying it, giving it room to become one with me and then moving forward together. I don’t just step aside and let it take me over. We work together, side-by-side, internally as one. One body, one flow of energy.

When I was getting my MA in Dance at York University, my thesis centered on finding the relationship between creativity and spirituality. I held a day long workshop of movement and dance, journaling and oral sharing. Later in evaluations of the experience, two of the participants spoke of finding ‘stillness’ in the ‘movement’ while they danced. A paradox. After the event, one of the participants gave me a beautiful hand-made calligraphy copy of an excerpt of T. S. Eliot’s “Four Quartets – Burnt Norton.” For her, his poem spoke of finding “The Still Point of the Turning World” and acted as a metaphor for her experience.

From T. S. Eliot’s “Four Quartets – Burnt Norton”:

            “At the still point of the turning world. Neither flesh nor fleshless;

            Neither from nor towards; at the still point, there the dance is,

            But neither arrest nor movement. And do not call it fixity,

            Where past and future are gathered. Neither movement from nor towards,

            Neither ascent nor decline. Except for the point, the still point,

            There would be no dance, and there is only the dance.”

Finding that balance of stillness and movement is a form of active release. It means standing still for a moment, breathing, centering myself, becoming deeply aware of all that is around me so that I can connect with the movement of life and its energy and begin to move as one with it. It’s becoming as T. S. Eliot calls ‘The Still Point’ so that I become the axis around which my world turns. I am integral to its being. I support it, as I become the stillness from which the movement circulates. The world rotates around me, life happens, but I am always centered and strong, actively a part of it, and deeply aware of the bonded process. It’s finding “The Still Point of the Turning World” within myself.

A Path to Creativity

Creativity

Back in the mid 90’s I was teaching a Gr. 1 class at a small country school. One of my student’s parents offered to write our Christmas play and so began a new friendship based on our mutual enjoyment of writing. Jane introduced me to a book called The Artist’s Way – A Spiritual Path to Higher Creativity by the author Julia Cameron.

It was a book on the link between creativity and spirituality and included a 12 week program of basic principles and activities that rekindled one’s latent creativity and helped one to overcome problems such as self-esteem, self-criticism, jealousy, guilt and other factors such as worry over time, money or support, all blocks to our creative energies. Cameron believed that we all are creative beings, that there is not one non-creative person alive. She also believed that the universe is naturally creative and creative expression is the natural direction of life. This resonated so deeply within me as, decades before, in my university years in the early ‘70’s I had studied fine arts, modern dance and drama and experienced a new-found confidence in my own creativity abilities. I, too, believed vehemently that we all are creative beings.

During the ‘80’s, my child bearing years, my life had become very busy with family obligations and yet, during this time, I did manage to work professionally with a dance company in Toronto and returned to university in 1988 to earn a Bachelor of Education. Working full-time, raising a family and working through a difficult marriage didn’t leave much time for dance activities any longer. In the early 90’s my husband and I separated and a new life began. I was longing for a new outlet for my creative energies.

Cameron’s book provided me with that. For 12 weeks, I worked through her book, chapter by chapter, every day writing what she called “morning papers.” Each day I sat down with three blank sheets of paper and in a stream-of-consciousness format, I filled those pages. She said to fill them up from beginning to end, even if all I could write was “I don’t know what to write. I don’t know what to write.” She said, if you kept writing, pretty soon something of value was going to come out on that page. I wrote a lot of garbage back then but there were also many true gems of wisdom. I found by writing this way, it released my creative energies and I often found my soul revealed on the page, answering problems that I had fretted over for weeks.

She also told you to take an “artist date” once a week. It could be anything: go visit a fabric store, walk along a quiet river, visit a museum or go watch a parade. You were allowed to do anything at all that helped to rejuvenate, replenish or inspire you. It was to be done solo, was to be fun and festive and was to be filled with play. She said that we work so hard at being artists that we need to give back to ourselves and find the play in our creative process once again.

At the end of the 12 weeks of exploration, Cameron challenged you to set a creative focus for yourself that would work in your life. You were to set a basic goal, the steps you would go through to achieve that goal, and the time frame it would take you. You were to find a mentor that would encourage, guide and prod you along and you must meet with your mentor once a week until the goal was achieved. I chose to focus on writing, to have something published, even if it was only in a small way and I met with my friend Jane in her home, once a week. I continued to write morning papers and we had a lot of fun giving each other small prompts for creative, spontaneous writing and sharing these with each other. At the end of my weeks with her I did achieve my goal and an article on creativity was published in a provincial drama educator’s newsletter.

Cameron’s book opened up a new world of writing to me. I had always enjoyed writing but she inspired me to explore my writing further and she gave me a means of goal-setting and finding success with my chosen creative field. I would recommend this book for anyone who feels blocked in their creative field. If you are willing to work through her program from beginning to end, you will achieve success – and have a lot of fun doing it. Get those creative juices brewing. Go play.