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Still There

He was still

she was not

He breathed in

she breathed out

He shut his eyes

she opened hers

He listened

she spoke

He received

she gave

there was no need

for anything else

She knew

he did,too

the lines she drew

stones she laid

words she spoke

one by one

touched them both

every which way

it possibly could

they were still

and they were not

anything more

nothing less

but parts of the best
πŸ‘£πŸ’—  Jeanna’ Mead

12 03 p.m. 6-15-18

http://www.jeannasoul.com

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Freedom

She carried herself well

with the confidence of a woman

that knew she was

beautiful and brave

desirable and sensual

She laughed when asked

what she loved most

about being here

deep in the heart of Texas

in America

so far from her home

“Freedom! Freedom!”

This is why she carries herself so well

walking with confidence

of a woman that knows full well

how beautiful and desirable

strong and courageous

Freedom is.

Jeanna Mead    6-9-18   8 49 p.m

 

Friday afternoon, my client returned for a massage session and, as she walked towards me, i thought to myself, “She is such a beautful woman.”  As we stood there talking, she mentioned that she was leaving soon for Spain, to visit her family for two months.  I asked her how she liked living in the USA, especially in Texas and she smiled with absolute pure delight and said. “I love it here!”

Of course, I had to ask the very next thing that popped into my head, “Why, Sonia, why do you love living in Texas so much?”  

 Her answer, her simple, profound, honest-to-goodness answer was summed up in one powerful word – “Freedom!”

“Freedom?”

She laughed, tossing her head back and then looking me straight in the eyes, said,
“Freedom to be myself!”

“In Spain, I can not find anything to wear, I can not go into a shop and find a dress, a blouse, or pants.. nothing at all… because, there I am just FAT… and they do NOT like fat women in Spain.”

This woman is gorgeous, with a voluptuous body, and long, strong legs, graceful arms and hands of a pianist.

She has a charming accent, a vibrant smile and carries herself with such confidence.

That type of confidence comes from having the freedom to be your own kind of beautiful.

She explained that in Spain there’s a standard of beauty that is so limited,yet so accepted that it’s literally impossible for any woman that doesn’t fit the cookie cutter mold to feel beautiful or to find anything to wear that makes them feel beautiful.

“But here, in Texas,”she said, “I can go into any shop and find so many things- cute, sexy,beautiful things that fit me.”

Here I am,thinking that freedom was about having political and religious choices. about having the right to vote, to select healthcare,schools, jobs and all that but then, this woman reminds me what freedom really is.

Freedom is being yourself. Freedom is owning your body and your soul.It’s making peace with who you are and finding out who and what you want.

Freedom is seeing your own beauty…looking past others “standards” and your own scars and celebrating the body you have right now.

This woman breathed words into my own starving body and soul.  I’ve wrestled mightily and lost a few battles against the standards of beauty that I’ve imposed on myself.

I’ve said., “No” to invitations when I really wanted to say “YES!” I’ve second guessed my choices over and over,standing in front of the closet and the mirrors, questioning my size,my shape,my strength and my worth.

I’ve been a captive of the “Beauty standard” for as long as I can remember.  I’ve been pressured to dress a certain way or not to wear other things. I’ve been praised for my “exotic” looks then reminded that I should look “more”- more my age, more “professional”, more “Christian” or more trendy. 

I’ve worn too much makeup and then too little, grew my hair long and let the curls go wild then cut it all off. 

I’ve tried to look at the reflection in the mirror and see myself as others do. My own daughter looks exactly like me and I find her breathtakingly beautiful but I struggle to see the same things I admire in her in myself. I am taking away my daughter’s freedom because I am holding us both hostage as long as I allow myself to feel the need to conform, to fit in to a certain size. to be just so. 

I realize that I’m the one that holds the ball and chain, the prison key and the on-way ticket to freedom.

I’ve always felt that clients come into my studio because they are meant to be there and Sonia just reaffirmed this in so many ways.

In her petal pink pants and sheer black floral blouse, she was a stand out picture of beauty and confidence and she reminded me of how I feel when I choose to wear the clothes and the colors that I love.

She had told me that in Spain.if she did find anything to fit,  it made her feel so frumpy, and OLD ..and that’s certainly not how she sees herself or how others see her.

Here she has FREEDOM…the same exact thing I have long taken for granted but.because of her willingness to share her story with me, I’m seeing just how much freedom I really do have.

Freedom to wear what feels good to me and the freedom to put back anything that doesn’t. Freedom to dance to my own song. Freedom to love my body with the scars,curves,and muscles and to do the things my body loves.  Freedom to decide to buy only what I fall in love with and freedom to say, “No way, Jose” when someone suggests anything that doesn’t feel right.

I get it, Sonia, I get it.

Freedom is about being free in your body,mind and spirit!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Friends- a dance with Paulo

Paulo Coelho: A friend accepts us as we are
And helps us to be what we should.”

Wisdom from Paulo…..what have your friends helped you become?

Interesting reflection. My friends and my patients teach me about people. Part of my unending quest to understand as much as I can about people. My friends teach me joy, fun, forgiveness, give and take, celebrating who they are and also who I am, they spark my interest not just in them, but in the world around them, they broaden my horizons, stretch my thinking and feeling. They touch and awaken parts of me that are dormant and resonate with parts of me that are alive and vibrant. This feels like just a start.-
Rob.

RESPONSE.

I have learned
to accept
what can be given
understand
what is taken
far and away
I have seen the depths of rage
jealously and hate
and the unending
reach of mercy and grace
I’ve been bought to my knees
more times that I can count
heartbroken and in despair
then lifted higher
than ever I dared imagine
by the hands of a friend
I’ve stood along
that ragged edge
and clenched my fist
but then again
I’ve stood there
surrendering to the sweet embrace
that I found
I’ve learned a thing or two
I hope I’ve also taught a thing or two
I’ve been a friend
and a foe
a lover and a loser
a woman hidden and exposed
and through it all
I’ve no regrets
except that I didn’t do enough of it all.

πŸ‘£πŸ’— Jeanna’

Paulo Coelho: A new friend represents a new universe, created the day she/he arrived.

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Grace.. a dance

G R A C E

Her Strength
Shows
Amidst
Her
Vulnerability

As She
Moves
Through
The Story
That
Is Her
Life

In
Times
Of
Change
She
Emerges
From
The
Whirlwind

Taking
Tentative
Steps
Till
Beneath
Her
Becomes
Solid
Ground

Then
She
Strides
Head
Raised
With A
Vengeance
To
Whatever
Awaits

Her
Eyes
Burning
With
Desire

Still
Vulnerable
Enough
To
Acknowledge
Her Fear

Never
Letting
It Stop
Her

From
Experiencing
All She Can…

-randini-

and then I accepted his invitation..
She smiles
Sometimes
Through tears

When fleeting doubts
Threaten
To make her
Feel

That she isn’t
Enough
Beautiful
Capable
Strong

But then
She stops
Listens
Feels
Breathes

Intuitively
She knows

She’s always been
More than enough
Beautiful
Capable
Strong

The only real doubt
Was
That others
Didn’t see her

The way
She sees
Herself

πŸ‘£πŸ’— Jeanna’ Mead
http://www.jeannasoul.com

AVA, Daily Prompt, deaf girl, Heart to heart, Jeanna' Soul, kindred spirits, Uncategorized

A Blessing and A Curse

 Friday afternoon a friend of mine stopped by my massage studio and we sat outside on the patio,drinking beer and catching up. He had been doing yard work all day and I had just finished several massage sessions. It was a rare chance just to sit down together for a little while.

 We started talking about our days and I mentioned that I had done a Thai massage on the patio early Wednesday morning and that it had been so peaceful. He grinned and said,”It’s a little loud out here right now.”

I looked at him with enough surprise in my eyes that he pointed out that he could hear someone hammering 100 yards away, cars driving by and car doors shutting and people talking in the parking lot across the street.

100 yards! I couldn’t even imagine because,since I’m hard of hearing, I think-although I KNOW better- that only what I am seeing and feeling is making noise.

For me, sound is visual and tactical. I can feel the wind blowing so I realise that it’s making a rustling sound, and I can see the wind chimes moving,so I know they are making a sound…but I’m not sure how loud it is or if it’s as soothing as i assume it is.

I had no idea that my clients would be hearing a lawn mower yards away or the chatter of people walking up the sidewalks during the Thai massage sessions that I do outside on the covered patio deck at Rockwall Body and Soul Massage.

 This space is surrounded by trees and a high privacy fence so I’ve always considered it a peaceful, sacred oasis..far removed from the sounds of everything but when Jim told me what he heard, I was, quite frankly, a little shocked and then, I was filled with gratitude..

You see, hardly anyone ever tells me what I’m missing and I’m so used to missing out that it’s an incredible act of kindness when I’m made aware of something that I didn’t know.
I told Jim that I didn’t realize how loud it was outside.

 As we sat facing each other, only inches apart, I explained that, as far as I was concerned, he was the only person in the world at this time. My eyes were watching his lips so I could read his words. I paid close attention to his eyes and his body language and I listened with every ounce of my being, concentrating so hard to avoid missing anything important and to have to ask for it to be repeated.

He nodded his head in understanding and said, “It’s a blessing and a curse.”

A blessing and a curse.

That’s exactly what it feels like. A blessing that I’m unaware of noises that I don’t see. A curse because it could affect the way others feel about the sessions they receive.

A curse because I’m so used to being left out that I just accept it. When people are talking right in front of me but don’t bother to slow down just a little so I can understand, I just pretend it doesn’t sting and walk away. 

A curse because I feel invisible- unnoticed,unnecessary, uninvited.

I’ve sat at tables,sharing meals and not sharing conversations. People glance up, catch my eye and pause, as if they just now realized I was there, and then give me the “Readers Digest” version which usually begins like this, “Oh,we were just talking about……”

But it’s a blessing,too, because I’ve learned to be alone. I’ve learned to find the beauty in solitude, to fill the voids in my heart with other things. it’s made me a very compassionate,empathic woman. I appreciate kindness so much+ the extraordinary gifts of patience and understanding. I marvel at the wonders of technology like the AVA -Audio Visual Accessibility-app I use every day and captions for lyrics through Sound Hound and MusicMatch which gives me the gift of understanding the songs I’m listening to.

It’s a blessing because I don’t take anything for granted. When someone takes the time to include me or tells me something that makes me feel connected, then I am overwhelmed with gratitude, especially when I haven’t asked.

.My Mema used to listen intentionally and purposefully wherever we were at and then, when we were alone, she would pat the seat beside her, beckon me over and give me a play-by-play of everything she had heard. 

I would look so forward to these times because I knew she would tell the stories in such a way that we would both be roaring with laughter.or bought to tears, or shaking with indignation. She made me feel as if it was the greatest adventure to be able to share the stories with me. She had a knack of making everything come alive.

It was a blessing and a curse to hear the stories second-hand, filtered through her Southern sass and sensibilities. 

It’s a blessing and a curse because I can’t choose what I hear but I can choose how I listen to others. I choose to sit closely, and to seek out places that make lip reading as easy as possible. I choose small.intimate gatherings over large,rambunctious events. I choose to be mindful and grateful, instead of bitter and spiteful. I choose to walk away and find my own peace rather than stay and feel alienated.

That’s why it was such a rare  thing when my friend came by, sat outside and talked with me.  He knows full well that it is a blessing and a curse to be friends with a deaf woman. It takes longer to visit and sometimes people get the wrong idea because I sit closely and lean forward to understand. I touch often, which is my way of feeling the vibrations. of making connection, of being centered with whoever I’m listening to.

It’s a blessing because he knows that I’m giving him my utmost attention,but it’s also a curse because I look so much deeper into the heart of a person and that can make some people feel a little vulnerable or uncomfortable.

It’s just the way things are with me and all I can hope is that I’m more of a blessing than a curse. 



Jeanna’ Mead

9 18 p.m. 6-6-18

http://www.jeannasoul.com