Listening to vinyl. No better way to listen to classical music. #30DayMuchnessChallenge
abortion support in South Africa
Day 7: Has Writing Ever Changed Your Life?
This Friday past, three days ago, I wrote a letter.
It was the last day of the grief coaching with the lovely Astro. I had been doing the following:
Compiling a time line from birth to current date of all my sorrows, losses, griefs and sore heart moments. Then compiling a timeline of the loss of ‘my moment’. Because indeed I had come to a realisation that it is the journey, the train ride, the moment, the experience of motherhood that I was morning, more than the child/person herself. As such, the timeline of my loss is not a relationship with a person, but a moment – those empty arms after the pain of ‘labour’. And then, I had to separate the experiences of my trauma loss timeline into the following: forgivenesses, apologies, and significant emotional statements.
Then, I wrote a letter, to all these events and people involved in the events; whom I needed to forgive, apologise to or say something of importance to.
I wrote the letter easily. I began reading the letter easily. And then I got to the following:
“To all the pregnant ladies around and close to me, I bless you and wish you only abundance and peace”
My voice caught and then the emotion over-whelmed me again. Not with pain so much as over-whelming feels, just waving out of tears. And sadness. Open sadness, un-raw sadness, just sadness. Then I came to a painful moment:
“Pule bum, my love. I am so sorry that I am not, right now, the mother of your beautiful daughter, the ‘right’ one for you. Your muse, you inspiration, go out all night and all day kind of partner in crime. Know that I love you. And if you need to leave me, I forgive you and love you always.”
Again, over-whelming tears, but this time caught in my throat pain, for I know to clearly that this is almost overwhelmingly where we might be going. And each time I think it, I almost can’t stand it.
Writing this letter, apologising, forgiving and telling my baby girl just how much I love her and how each and every decision was because I loved and love her so much. Telling Pule how much I love hime and how much I can leave if I am not the woman for him, took away some of the panic I felt each time I thought it. It doesn’t make the sadness or pain any lighter to carry every day. Since that letter, though, there is something of a something to get up for every morning, and work towards every day.
A sense of ability and being again that I thought I had lost.
Occasionally when I see a pregnant someone I want to kick them in the neck. With each swipe, though, I bless them in their way.
I haven’t recently, if ever, felt writing affect me this profoundly.
Today, I felt sad. Sad that the journey is over and that I have so long to wait until I am in the safe space to have that beautiful little girl.
All things come to an end. Don’t hold onto the good, don’t fear that bad.
Day 6: Discovering Needs and Desires
Four orphans who salvage and scavenge to make a home for themselves in a little boxcar. Oh how I would have the same fantasies as a child, hoarding and collecting my most precious items, in preparations for the time when I would only have them and myself. And I would go into hiding sometimes, with those essentials, in a tent or on my bed, or a long car trip, lovingly caressing them, thinking about them at school, protecting them.
You can read more about the boxcar children here: http://writingandhealing.org/2006/09/06/the_boxcar_chil
If I were to gather the most important things in my life, I would start with my books. Children’s books with beautiful illustrations. Daughter of Fortune, The Red Tent.
My quilt from my 21st. Six pillows and a thick duvet. My pandeiro and berimbau from capoeira, because I need music, they are the only instruments I own or which will not run flat on battery.
My metal camping bowl and mug. My best sharpest knife.
Wellington boots.
Gardening equipment.
This was really hard. I don’t know if I have anything that I think i just cannot live without. I think that is all. Music, gardening, sleep. And magic books. These four things are most important to me.
Day 5: A Shopping Spree
In this case, R50 000 and I am to decide what I would like to buy, one thing, any combination of things, to help me continue on my healing process… Here goes:
Immediately in my immediate thought and memory is a course in baby stimulation massage and infant massage. I feel that I need to work with babies. I work with children as a teacher, youngsters, six year olds. I feel a strong pull to work with newborns and babies. I hold them, massage them, give them the best start in life. Work in hospitals, make house calls.
R5500
I’d volunteer at private maternity clinics, where I would have the leisure time to work with the doulas.
R0, but the R50 000 enables a few less classes to be taught so that I can stay at the clinic.
As much arts and crafts material as I can possibly want, to paint and make.
R5 000
Singing lessons
R8 000
Piano lessons
R10 000
A new wardrobe
R15 000
A week long camping trip, including horse riding and canoeing
R7000
That is all.
Day 4: The Easiest Writing and Healing Exercise Ever
Today I write a simple word and adjective to describe my day:
Strong
Apprehensive
Apprehensively strong
Day 3: my body as a healing space
Today I am doing a body scan, a conscious writing exercise, acknowledging my body as the site of loss, grieving and new growth. No fluffy introduction. Here goes:
Feet, tired. Now as I relax them, I feel like they need to move and stretch
Ankles, nothing…
Calves, strong and stiff from capoeira this morning
Knees, stiff, as I relax them? Hahahah, itchy!
Thighs, stiff from capoeira, and already quick relaxed sitting on the couch.
Hips, both open and closed, well more protected. Strong from capoeira training
Stomach, so strong from training, calm for now, confident!
Lower back, very stiff and even a tad sore. Scared. As I relax, a stretch… a sigh
Middle and upper back, strong, as I relax, a desire for touch, a rub and massage
Shoulders, nothing…
Shoulder/neck, tight, desiring touch so much
Arms, stiff and wanting to hold something living
Hands, small and tired, as I relax them, sleepy
Fingers, fast, stiff, as I relax, them…relief
Jaw, I want to chew something, once wholesome food, as i relax, softnesssssssssss
Face, tired, eyes itchy, relaxed, need for sleep, safety, ono seeing love
Scalp, desire for touch
Aaaaaahhhhhh.. no spell check. The freedom!
Day 2: free writing
Free writing a lá creative process is the task for today.
I spent the last hour free writing and the piece I came away with was a letter to Lauren the creator of her Universe. There were things I had to apologise for, things I needed to forgive, and from the heart words that I needed to say. To Lauren, and to many people and souls in her life.
So today I am setting my timer for five minutes and writing. About the first thing in my mind:
It’s been almost five days on my healing retreat. I am siting on the side of a hocky field while the child whom I am Au pairing plays hockey. Well not play, hit balls, balance balls. All the things that make me remember how much I disliked hockey at school.
Except for that one year in grade 11. Oh I remember that feeling. Suddenly I wanted, for once in my life, to be part of a school sports team. With my age and such I got into the second team. It was fantastically surreal. Balls and me generally stay away from each other. Both living and non loving balls at that time. Suddenly I was good, part of a team. And I loved it. I played away and at home. And we were the only team to beat out arch nemesis, Sunderland. I used to eat avo and cheese sandwiches before practice and games. My lucky symbol.
What a memory to surface now at this time of life reflection. School wasn’t all avoiding school sports as I so vehemently tell people. I rocked it that one time!!!
Now that I am playing quasi-mommy to this little six year old, I can see the sacrifice needed to be a good parents. Most parents won’t watch a practice like this. It’s my first one. It’s outdoors and quiet and nice time to sit an deflect. That might change in the next few weeks. But parents come and go, watching parts of the practice. How important it is to make a child know that she is seem. Is important.
Day 1: My healing retreat
For six weeks I will be on a healing writing retreat. For six weeks I will be doing only this; all chores taken care of, no grocery shopping, tiding, cooking, washing. I can design the retreat in any way that I want. So here goes:
It is in a small cabin. One room – a huge bed with a heavy down duvet and a log fire. On the side a kitchen area. It’s winter, moving into spring, therefore the nights are frosty and cold, perfect to light a fire and sit under the heavy duvet. And then during the day the sun heats up the air and I can sit outside and soak up the sun. The cabin is on a working permaculture farm, so it is bustling during the day and calm and quiet at night. I am not alone.
The air is clear, not cliched in-the-country pollution free. Just calm and open. I am taking a break from the city. I need openness and calmness!
I have all the food available that I want. A private shopper and private chef. I will eat slow roast lamb, sesame noodles, layered chocolate mousse sundae, amazing curries (chicken, lamb, prawn, tofu etc). Anything I desire will be cooked and eaten. I have books, like Daughter of Fortune – books that I can’t put down, I have notebooks and pens for writing. I have unlimited supplies of art material (paint, collage materials, glue, paper).
No Facebook.
I have lots of outdoor time – horse riding and canoeing.
i have a record player that plays all my favourite classical music pieces.
I have a dog and a puppy, who live with me and share the bed. And an old horse that lives outside and nuzzles and plays with us. My man is away for this time, visiting me over the weekend.
Ooooo, there is a roof light in the roof above the bed, I can see the stars.
A huge dawn chorus in the morning so that I am awake early (on most days) and at night the sound of raining water from the rushing river close by. Not silence at night. Too creepy and lonely. The people working on the permaculture farm visit regularly for a cup of coffee or a sandwich for lunch.
On my first day here I will go for a long horse ride and fill up my water container with water from the river. I will eat a big meal of mixed mediterranean style food. And a chocolate sundae. Maybe a bottle of champagne or red wine. And then a long long long sleep.
My daily routine… A cup of coffee brewed on a fire in the early morning when my breath still mists. Then a horse ride or a walk with the dogs. Something for breakfast (something other than cereal or eggs, because I am so bored of these). Then writing. I am not meditating for these six weeks. I find it difficult at the best of time. These six weeks are all about being gentle on myself. I help on the permaculture farm and we eat cheese and pickles and bread for lunch. And I paint in the afternoon. Or ride again. Maybe some yoga in the evening, before I light the fire and snuggle down to eat my supper. One movie a day and sleep.
What a wonderful six week plan.
Reblogged: Getting Out Of Your Own Way
Sometimes we can get so stuck on our own pain from abortion that our world becomes “self centered.” We become obsessed with thinking about it 24/7. Everything speaks to us about it. We can go over things in our head a million times and fill our lives with “if only’s.”
This constant focus on self is not only unhealthy, but it is not helpful. “Would have,” “could have,” “should haves,” and “if only’s,” will get you nowhere, and addressing your abortion 24/7 will not make the pain leave any earlier. In fact, it will most likely make things worse.
Instead, find a ministry or therapist that can help you work through your abortion. (If you cannot find one, call us and we will help 877-586-4621). Put your abortion/s in a box except when you are in a place where you will actually get help by learning of the dynamics, spiritual support, and an ear that can help you understand what happened. Some people fear that this will mean you are forgetting your baby. That is not true. You will still be dealing with it but in a healthy way, in an environment where you can get actual help and clarification instead of just tormenting yourself.
The gospel of Matt 25:31-46 speaks of helping others. Whenever you see yourself sinking into the habit of obsession, take your focus off of yourself by doing something for someone else. Not only will it help the other person but, it will help you as well.
The beginning of the end
Is it?
Well the man has stated his case.
After losing Jazz he says that he has lost trust in us, in what I feel about the relationship, how serious I think we are. Because I did push for it and he wanted to keep her. I honestly don’t know why I chose as I did. Only that my parents seemed to have withdrawn their support of me and I felt that I couldn’t do it without them. Would rather have no baby than loose them…
I know, I hope, it is his grief, kept quiet until now, when I had started to grieve.
I know, I hope, that it is his grief and anger that needs to be released and that he will reach a sense of calm again.
He said us is losing against him as an individual. That he doesn’t know if he can handle this – us.
Nasty selfish motherfucker.
Yet I also understand. We have realised that I didn’t want to end the pregnancy. Maybe its because close people around me are pregnant and expecting around my due date. Maybe it is a real revelation. He has never been very good at confronting emotional times in our relationship. Maybe he is freaking out and he really has no one to help him process these intense emotions.
But maybe he is speaking his truth. And soon, so soon I can almost see it, our relationship will end. And we will become just another two people hurting on our own.
I will never be able to shake the belief that had we kept that little girl growing in my womb this. none of this would have happened.
Only on thing keeps me on this earth. The yearning for a baby. The irony.
losing jazz 