Tuesday, May 20, 2008

Writings From Class: Warm up, Cool Down

The following pieces are warm ups and cool downs from my current workshop, Releasing The Writer Within, The MASTER Class. We begin and end each class with a meditation and free-write. Take a look at these spontaneous pieces:

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Warm up


I am ready. I am excited. My stomach is queasy from fear. It will be okay. It is gong to be great. Last week I talked to Hannah, Shakay, Joanne about what is so important to me. I came away realizing I know a lot about bullying, spiritual abuse, all kinds of abuse. I have ideas worth sharing with others. It is like I have been preparing for this. Everything has converged. My knowledge, my experience informed by my knowledge. It was painful getting to this point but I have arrived. I am where God intended me to be all along. I was just a little slow in hearing it. I would hear it and then forget. Then I would get whacked. Oh yeh I got it. Only to forget again.
God was telling me all along. You don’t belong with those people – the secularists, the atheists, the keeping up appearances crowd. Some how my isolation has given me a unique perspective.

Cool Down

Gratitude. So much to be thankful for. I have survived. I didn’t kill myself. My enemies failed to defeat me. I am loved despite my father saying I would never be wanted. He didn’t want me. A fifth child, a companion for Trish who was a surprise. Three children was probably all my father ever wanted. He had his son and a spare. One daughter for my mom. But Trish and me, we were extras, not needed, unnecessary. But in the end I am the winner. What would he think of me, this class, this book. I never understood why he was so angry. It has never been clear.

Maggie Jones
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Warm-up

I peeled another layer from my onion this week. I’ve always been a highly emotional person. As a child, I was the center of all attention. I expected it, liked it, and asked for it if it wasn’t happening. I usually got what I asked for. However, as a child I was always moody. There are many pictures of me pouting and crying and laughing and smiling. I always thought moody meant bad moods, but it really meant my emotions changed a lot – sometimes from minute to minute. I’m not sure why that happened, but that’s a topic for another day and I’ve marked it in my journal as such. The important thing for me this week is that I remember my moodiness as a child and I’m still struggling with it now. I still expect all the attention, but now I’m missing my three biggest supporters – my Dad, my Mom, and my sister. But guess what? I still need attention – and I haven’t told anyone that I need it. So now, I struggle with finding a person or people to give me that level of attention – almost to the point of doting. And my goal is to somehow manage this expectation as I continue to live on this earth.

Cool Down

I am here.
I am present.
I am in attendance.
I am smart.
I am intellectual.
I am spiritual.
I am feeding my soul.
I am filling my inner core up with energy and priceless life experiences.
I am knowledge.
I am wisdom.
I am insightful.
I am resourceful.
I am hopeful.
I am scared.
I am tired.
I am being heard.
I am getting attention.
I am giving myself attention.
I am giving others my full attention.
I may be sad at times.
I may be happy at times.
I am moody.
I am grateful I have feelings and emotions.
I am thankful.
I am me.

Linda Fiorenzano

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Warm Up

Make space.
Breath in and out. Stretch and breathe into my muscles. Feeling the clean and openness throughout me. That’s what releasing and not walking around with lies or half truths or denial feels like. I have no secrets. I have nothing hidden and it makes for a lighter load.

He carries with him the heavy burden of repressed truth. I see it in the anxious nervousness when I see him, how he probably drinks a pot or three of coffee and day. How he can’t get through a meal with me without downing at least three drinks. How he doesn’t look me in the eye when we do see each other. How he has stopped calling me. How months can go by without a word from him.

I know that I could pick up all the slack in the relationship like I used to. Make the plans, the phone calls, fill in the blanks, make the excuses, tell myself lies about him, that he’s just the victim of his upbringing, that oh he doesn’t drink that much that oh he’s proud of me he just is very busy too busy to tell me that he loves me but he’s too busy, so consumed with work…that oh he’ll get around to visiting I just have to remind him–

Remind him that he’s a father?

When I breathe in and make space I notice the honesty in my body, that I don’t have any muscle tension, there’s nothing I am holding back emotionally. I am not lying to myself or anyone else. It’s the lies that make us depressed and anxious. It’s the lies we tell ourselves because if we faced the truth, wrote it down or said it out loud, we would lose something– we would lose the fantasy of a relationship. We would lose the facade we hold up to others. And for a lot of people, that’s all they have, a fantasy of what is and not the reality.

Anonymous
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Warm Up

the truth is, i have a center and i can keep myself safe. walking around the back of the word, i am separated by mere glass, easy to break. i am a part of its reflection. the truth is, i can't do it all alone. i am willing to put money down on this fact, ordering services to keep my head above water. to navigate around the sticky realities of finance and divorce. oh, and by the way, you, little doggie, i probably can't give you a home right now. sure, you rush in and stand there in all your furry white glory but i am in no position. i struggle daily. i get stumped when it comes to making dinner or doing the dishes. not here and not now. another truth is that the future doesn't look as scary now since we sat down to coffee and i allowed you at my table. we both just wanted to talk and get it out and we did. and even for everything my son is he isn't scary either. he just needs boundaries and a plan. like i do, like i have, until now. i think i see my own future the way i want it and all my time and beauty and energy fills up that picture until the outcome no longer matters. i am filling myself up with my own vision, i am kicking all the bs out of the way to make way for me. finally.

Keri Nieforth

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

I miss not being in class. I miss hearing these pieces read out loud. It inspires me, reading them, to continue on (when I can). I'll be back in the fall...

Writerwomyn said...

We miss you too! Feel free to post a piece of your own!

Anonymous said...

this is what may do it. being a ghost writer, hands without a soul. it's been too long. there is no tradition to count on, there is a coffee pot brewing coffee, there are old plans, like butter. rancid and melting. in moments of ego, i share my armour. it means little. his tight body showed me up the stairs walking and getting some where is a matter of no tripping, knowing your way up and down stairs. my mind is a spring, coiled into its space of bone. i am wondering what will set it free, make it loose until that part of me is here no longer. i have put us there somewhere. am i crazy? this is what i really want to know. can you tell me? i really just need a good pychic. because where I'm going is dark, it could lead to anything. no boundaries.