Beginning the Journey at Last

I’ve left behind the skins of my old self
Because how else will I grow?

I step through the doorway to a world far removed from the stage I’d just performed on
I look back at the past selves I have shed, am trying to shed, am trying to leave behind in the surrender box
No doubt some fear, procrastination, dissatisfaction, inferiority complex and depression will follow me wherever I travel
But luckily I can shed as many times as I need to

I’m armed and ready for my journey
As the others are too
We all have our maps and special bags packed with things to help us along the way
Bless the woman who is le Enchanteur, our guide, our motivator and the ignition to our creative fires

I adjust the straps on my bags and smooth my skirt
I check the soles of my boots and estimate that they should last until I reach the House of the Serpent
I spy a strange looking animal watching me from the bushes
And my old self would have been afraid
But I’d been told that this might happen and so I strode confidently up to the beast

She looked at me with wary eyes
As I examined her I couldn’t figure out whether I was supposed to climb onto her back or take her reigns
I didn’t even know what creature she might be
Something between a horse, a hippopotamus and a bird (wings only)

I started walking along the Serpentine Road
Realising that I was alone with this creature because I’d dawdled (again)
I turned to look at her and she seemed to know what I wanted
She soon caught up and walked beside me, snorting softly and clip clopping at a leisurely pace
I sensed we’d be good travelling companions

by Stacey Anne Cole

protection against the perils of forgetfulness

Here is a necklace of gingko leaves strung on a cord. Gingko possesses powers to aid those suffering from forgetfulness.

In certain circumstances it may even be necessary to drink a couple of drops of Essence of Lethe when foes try to wipe your memory

Creative Handprint

Descansos and journey of the heart

My body is marked by the scars of descansos: a simple childhood fall resulting in an awkward break requiring pinning. The scar on my keloid skin as livid now as it was 40 years ago, more like the weal from a burn. A fall from a moving bus and 6 stitches in my head. Two scars track across my belly: removal of a poisoned appendix and subsequent abcesses. The second and most painful in all senses: an emergency operation to remove both fallopian tubes. “I’m sorry you won’t be able to have children, except by IVF” said the gynaecologist the next day. All potential for creating new life gone with the cut of the knife. Attempts at IVF resulted in nothing but misery followed by acceptance and finally by the finding of new paths of creativity – a burgeoning interest in amateur dramatics and theatrical workshops. Voice workshops with Barb on whose body are tattooed a number of runes – a permanent record of events that have marked her. Watching over the building of our new house and being able to start a garden from scratch; learning to play the piano again, albeit badly, after a gap of 35 years; singing in a choir; reacting to creative stimuli and trying my hand at writing and artworks; traveling and travel journals, digital photography; learning a new language; explorations of new worlds.

Journey of the heart

Updated and revised version of a letter I wrote to the woman I was 10 years ago (now 20 years ago).

My dear,

20 years have passed and you have experienced much in that time.

You have become a self-assured woman who has overcome the disappointment of not being able to have children and has, instead, enjoyed the company of a number of cats. You have discovered that, with the increased amount of free time available through not having had children, you have been able to enrich your personal and cultural life. You have met people of different nationalities and have learned to love their countries, languages, music, food and wine.

After moving abroad, you settled in so quickly that you decided to sell your old house and build a new one, near the city but in the countryside, something that you would never have been able to do if you had stayed put and you had all the fun and hard work of creating a garden from scratch. Blood, sweat and tears and all that.

In your professional life you weighed up the pros and cons of making a career and decided that there were more important things. You have been in the same job now for 15 years – together with your colleague you have worked out a good modus operandi and the work is autonomous. It can be difficult and, at times, unpleasant but you work well and enjoy it.

On the negative side there is not too much to say. Circumstances have taken you away from your family and a number of close friends whom you still miss. Your sister lives in the U.S. but you usually manage to meet up with her and her family every couple of years. Your brother has settled down and married and lives close to your parents – a weight off your mind as your parents are now in their mid eighties.

People say you have changed a lot since coming here. Perhaps you didn’t notice at first but now, with hindsight and the wisdom that has come from experience, you know that it is true. You are more self-assured and confident in what you do. You have gained a certain serenity from having come close to death on two occasions and you know that life is too short to play with.

If you have any regrets it is because you have not always had the courage to say certain things to certain people and have not taken those decisions that would have turned your life upside down. Was it because of cowardice or because, deep down, you knew it would be better to stay as you were. Perhaps you will never know and, in the meantime, much water has flowed under the bridge.

I hope that your life will continue to be as peaceful as you would wish and know that I am happy for you.

by Carol Abel