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Tip Toes

Jeanna’ Mead
2 25 p m
6.6 20

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Another Women’s Words

I am not old….she said
I am rare

I am the standing ovation
At the end of the play

I am the retrospective
Of my life as Art

I am the hours
Connected like dots
Into good sense

I am the fullness
Of existing

You think I am waiting to die
But I am waiting to be found

I am a treasure
I am a map

And these wrinkles are
Imprints of my journey

Ask me anything

Samantha Reynolds, poet..

I read these words and I cried at the beauty and the simplicity and the truth.

I thought of the women I know that have stories I would like to know

I wonder if they wish to be asked… To be found.. to be seen… To be known

As more than just “the old lady that sits on the far left pew”

Or the one that whispers to herself as she plants seeds of flowers

I wonder if those ladies I know wish I would ask them anything

I wonder if they would answer

Would I be surprised? Would they?

What about me? Would I tell stories and answer questions

If I was asked anything?

Or would I gaze away and say,

“you shouldn’t ask questions like that”

While thinking to myself of what I know

And who I am

Underneath it all

I am not getting old, not really

I am becoming my self

My body caresses my soul

My soul caresses my body

I find the treasures in the moments and the questions and the words of another woman

Jeanna’ Mead, poet, too

Beautiful picture.
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Another Woman

Another woman

Wrote these words

But this woman

Felt them

Like a slap in the face

A punch in the stomach

She knew the pain

All too well

She wrote her own words

Imagined herself

Walking with the stars in the sky

On a beach late at night

Sharing deep thoughts

Not the shallow ones at all

that’s the way it was

For the another woman

Seems like

👣💙 Jeanna’ Mead

9 40 a.m. April 28 2020

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Still Alive

There’s an old tree

Given to me

Many years ago

Bought for one dollar in a pretty pot

That was worth more

I planted it with high hopes

Not knowing what it was to become

It grew and spread

It’s branches to the sky

The roots became the resting place

For some of our beloves

I took that dollar tree for granted

Till the days I noticed

It wasn’t sprouting any new leaves

The branches seemed to break with ease

As if it had lost all of it’s strength

For a fleeting moment

I thought of taking the old chainsaw and cutting it down

Until I sat outside, wrapped up in covers

Drinking coffee

Listening to the birds

Hearing the Spirit

Speak softly to me

Reminding me, tenderly

There’s beauty and purpose left in this tree

There’s always more that meets the eye

Look for the treasures

Find the light

Make something out of nothing

Just like you were taught

So I decided, right then and there

This old dollar tree was still alive

Branches reach up to the sky

Singing a song

“Every blessing You pour out

I’ll turn back into praise”

I saw the chance

Without the leaves

It became a place to hang

Things that made my soul dance within my body

Pieces that would be discarded or forgotten

Take on a new life

With beauty and purpose

A few bells to ring

A yellow tire swing

Metal pitcher

Heart made from a hanger

Baubles and beads that had been collecting dust

Found themselves hanging up, gracing the branches

This old dollar tree

Still has lessons for me

There’s beauty and purpose in everything

I can hear the voice

Of the woman that raised me

“Don’t you dare give up on anything, all it needs is love.”

Beauty and purpose

Is still alive

Jeanna’ Mead

April 20 2020

7 12 a.m

http://www.jesnnasoul.com

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Cry Out

CRY OUT IN YOUR WEAKNESS

A dragon was pulling a bear into its terrible mouth
A courageous man went and rescued the bear.

There are such helpers in the world, who rush to save
anyone who cries out. Like mercy itself,
they run toward the screaming.
And they can’t be bought off.

If you were to ask one of those, “Why did you come
so quickly?” he or she would say, “Because I heard your helplessness.”
Where lowland is,
that’s where water goes.
All medicine wants is pain to cure.

And don’t just ask for one mercy.
Let them flood in. Let the sky open under your feet.
Take the cotton out of your ears, the cotton
of consolations, so you can hear the sphere-music.
Push the hair out of your eyes.
Blow the phlegm from your nose,
and from your brain.
Let the wind breeze through.
Leave no residue in yourself from that bilious fever.
Take the cure for impotence,
that your manhood may shoot forth,
and a hundred new beings come of your coming.
Tear the binding from around the foot
of your soul, and let it race around the track
in front of the crowd.
Loosen the knot of greed
so tight on your neck.

Accept your new good luck.

Give your weakness
to one who helps.

Crying out loud and weeping are great resources.
A nursing mother, all she does
is wait to hear her child.
Just a little beginning-whimper,
and she’s there.
God created the child, that is, your wanting,
so that it might cry out, so that milk might come.

Cry out! Don’t be stolid and silent
with your pain. Lament! And let the milk
of loving flow into you.

The hard rain and wind
are ways the cloud has
to take care of us.

Be patient.
Respond to every call
that excites your spirit.
Ignore those that make you fearful
and sad, that degrade you
back toward disease and death.

RUMI

💙👣

I read this because my teacher, David, posted it on our Deep Massage Society page,

This opened the door for my own words to flow.

👣♥️.

She didn’t feel the need

To say much of anything

To anyone at all

She didn’t cry out

But instead she stood

With her hands wide open

Just like her heart

She breathed in and exhaled

Let every thought go wherever it would be received

Maybe someone needed the words she had written

Maybe someone would read between the lines

Maybe she would be able to give what another cried out for

Maybe so

She believed anyway

What she knew for absolute certainty

Was that The Creator knew her soul well, so well

Knew what she needed

What she wanted, too

Knew the treasures she was seeking

And how they would be found

As long as she continued

To stand with her hands open wide

Ready to receive

Whatever her heart believed

She had no need to cry out loud

Because the Universe could hear

The whispers of her soul

The itch of her fingers

To fill the voids

The way she stood

Beckoning with her hands

For things to fill in

Capture her imagination and fill up her heart

It was so simple

So beautiful

When she responded to every call that excited her spirit

By simply standing there

With the door to her heart wide open

And her hands ready to receive and to give

Just as freely

As her soul cried out for.

👣♥️ Jeanna’ Mead

4.15.20. 10 07a.m

http://www.jeannasoul.com

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Bad Romance

Two weeks ago, I had a new client finally come in to see me.

We had interacted on social media for months and I knew he was following me on my posts on Facebook and Instagram.

This is how it is with First Responders and Veterans. They take their time, learning about who I am and what I do before they come into my place and receive bodywork.

It takes time. It takes trust. It doesn’t happen overnight. It can’t be rushed.

I know this and I just let it come when it does. I open the door to communicate and I let them gaze at the door as long as it takes before they walk across the threshold and into my space.

And I’m ready when they do.

Most of the time.

I’m not always prepared, though, for everything that happens.

You see, while I have the door open so I can gain their trust, something else happens.

I become known. I become seen. I become vulnerable. I get touched in all kinds of ways.

And sometimes it reminds me of who I was and who I need to be.

Days after his session, my client sends me this video with the comment,”The girl on the right reminds me of you.”

I clicked it.

I was transfixed.

It was like looking in the mirror, seeing myself again.

Me.

The girl I was. The woman I am.

Tears ran down my face.

I watched it again and again.

The hair.

The dress.

The color.

Everything.

I got home and walked into my closet.

I have a dress almost exactly like that, still.

I turned on the music, really, really loud.

I begin to dance.

Again.

I caught my reflection in the mirror.

I was smiling.

The big, real, genuine Jack O’Lantern smile that Mema always said gave me away.

“Gave me away.”

That’s what it is… Some things just give you away, give away your passions, your pleasures, your so-called “buttons” that only people that take the time to watch and see, listen and learn, find out about you.

It’s a romance in many ways.

I know that it’s a give and take, to give fully, one must be willing to receive fully, too.

An open door goes both ways.. One can come in and one can go out.

One can see inside and one can be seen from outside.

I know my client doesn’t realize the gift he gave me when he sent the video.

It is a gift, though, in a very beautiful way.

He reminded me of what one of my heart desires is, of something I had pushed way back and let go of.

I needed this reminder so very much.

It made me stop and think and write down what I wanted and needed in my life.

To be known and loved.

To know and love.

To dance on the edge.

To dance again.

To open doors.

To come back.

To go forward.

Bad romances and all.

To be the woman in the dress, dancing my heart out.

👣♥️ Jeanna’ Mead

938 a.m. 11.26.19

http://www.jeannasoul.com

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Safe Words

When it is time

To step inside

Shut the door

Do what must be done

I won’t bite my tongue

Clench my fist

Hold tight for what might happen

Keep the door cracked

Just a little

Because everything

Every little thing

Is gonna be alright

Hard to explain

How the past

Tries to break in

Cause some trouble

Raise some hell

Bring me back down

Where I don’t ever want to go again

When I think it’s all over

Locked safely away

It comes out

Tries to shatter my peace

But not now

Not anymore

I will whisper

The safe words

That have been engraved

Upon my heart

Etched into my skin

Worn upon my arm

Placed all over my walls

The words that keep me

Strong and fierce

Hunkydory

Fearless

Full of joy

Living my life

Falling in love

Dancing in the dark

Riding the waves

Flying free

Feeling with both hands

Reading chapter and verse

Making big plans

Giant steps

Leaps of faith

Dreaming big

Finding magic

In secret places

Discovering treasures

Hidden away

Now when I step inside

I’ll close the door

Delight in all I see

Do what I came for

Linger just a little longer

In this safe place

With all the words

I need.

👣♥️

Jeanna’ Mead

643a.m 8.23.19

http://www.jeannasoul.com

When I decided to make the move to the Cade house, it was because of several signs that made me know it was meant to be.

One thing set me off, though, and my mind went straight down a path I didn’t want to go.

The commode closet is 4 feet wide by 4.5 feet deep with 10 feet ceilings. With white walls and white door, it was cold and inviting but more than that, it made me feel trapped. I had visions of someone turning off the lights, since the switch was outside the door, and placing a chair against the door knob so I couldn’t get out.

I shared this with a few people and they all laughed and assured me that no one would do that.

I was not convinced.

Every time I had to use the restroom,I would lock the door to the big room and leave the commode closet door open.

I couldn’t ease my mind.

Maybe it was irrational but it was my way of fighting my demons.

Then Tuesday my aunt Judy, and her daughter, Brandi and Brandi’s daughter, Mandana came into my new massage studio, carried bags and bags of treasures up the stairs and created a beautiful, sacred and safe place that bought me to squeals of pure joy and tears of happiness.

They spent the entire day and evening arranging and placing things perfectly, taking my gifts from clients and friends and putting them where I can see them and feel the love. They found paintings and pictures, pillows and silk scarves, baskets and wooden bowls, books and rocks and mixed the old with new.

Thift store finds mingled with handcrafted pieces from Europe.

Mexican shakers nestled in a bird cage.

Mirrors reflected pictures that had been painted of me that had been taken on days that I always remember as days that I felt known and loved.

A beautiful cut rock was placed next to a pitcher. They had no idea that the pitcher was a gift from a woman when I first opened my 203 Fannin location. Every time I look at that pitcher, I’m reminded of her gracious spirit.

Up on the fireplace ledge, was a little jade bird… It reminded me immediately of the song my Mema loved to sing.

“One, two, three like a bird I sing

Cause you’ve given me

The most beautiful set of wings”

It also reminded me that God has placed each person in my life for reasons and that there I am to love and live like an uncaged bird.

All these things, all the details in my massage room and even my closet meant so much but the biggest surprise was what they did to the commode closet.

They had blindfolded me… Something that took a level of trust in itself. Being unable to hear and unable to see is a step of faith for me.

They sat me down on the white throne and took off the blindfold and, just like that, my demon was slayed by the words and the art and the pictures that covered that 4 feet by 4.5 feet by 10 foot high commode closet.

Words of strength.

Words of faith.

Words that made me laugh.

Paintings by friends.

Pictures from my original studio.

Treasures from stores.

I could sit there and feel safe.

Known and loved.

They thought they were only decorating my place for me.

They did that, too.

But they really gave me the most beautiful set of wings.

They made this place safe and sacred.

They gave me what my soul needed, what I longed for, what I tried so hard to trust my Intuition for.

They took the words I had spoken and believed it mattered.

This is a gift beyond measure.

Known and loved.

I can fly.

Unafraid.

Thank you.

Thank you.

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Kissed By Angels

She’s been kissed by angels

That’s what she had been told

About the stains across her beautiful face

She’s been given wisdom

Way beyond her years

A fierce spirit

That rises up

She’s claimed her place

In my heart

I see the beauty of her soul

The courage she has

Brimming right below

The surface

She’s been kissed by angels

Since the day she was born

On the same day

Years and years apart

From another one

That holds a special place deep within my heart

She’s got so much strength

That I wish others could see

When they first notice

All the angel kisses

Across her face

These run more than

Only skin deep

Kisses like these

Change the way she sees

Makes her believe

Creates a unique perspective

Point of view

Take on life

That most people never quite understand

So I placed my own lips

On the top of her head

Kissed her with love

That she always knows she has

She’s set apart

Standing out from the crowd

Kisses from angels

Aren’t just tossed around

Given to just anyone

God knows good and well

That when an angel leaves stains

A warrior is made

When one thing is taken away

Other things rise up

Stronger than in others

An indomitable spirit

A rare and unusual beauty

Kissed by angels

Living with grace

Standing up

Showing

Exactly what she’s made of

Making me feel

As if I’ve been

Kissed by angels,too

❤👣Jeanna’ Mead

6 58 a.m 6.7.19.

Www.jeannasoul.com

My Caroline Grace….received her first massage from me yesterday as her 15th birthday gift. The way she was so comfortable in her skin,in her beauty,in her body made my heart dance.

I love this girl after my heart.

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Daily Prompt Jeanna' Soul Writing

On The Floor

She found herself

Laying on the bathroom floor

For how long

She had no idea

But it couldn’t have been

That long at all

There are bruises on her knee

That tell how hard she fell

A tender spot as well

It was enough to make her think twice

The current state of things

Would have to change

She couldn’t go on

Like this anymore

Finding herself laying

On a bathroom floor

Made her so glad no-one else had pushed through the door

And only she knew

The hard,cold truth

Of the why and how

That she wound up there

👣💗Jeanna’ Mead

9 02 a.m 3-10-19

Www.jeannasoul.com

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Ann’s Choice

When I was 16 years old, I had a boyfriend, David, with an incredible mom that made a lifelong impact on me.

One afternoon I was invited to a cookout at the backyard of their house in Dallas, and David’s dad was there as well.

I had never seen a divorced couple on good terms in my life. Here they were, ex-husband and wife, acting respectful and considerate, even laughing and joking around with each other and their sons.

I watched and listened, half expecting it to fall apart and things to get ugly and for David’s parents to start acting like all the other divorced people I knew.

Every other divorced couple I knew held such anger, such disrespect, such intolerance for each other.

I was used to divorced couples that couldn’t even be in the same building without all hell breaking loose much less the same house.

They would hurl accusations and talk about each other in such a way that I couldn’t imagine how they had ever once loved and lived together.

My Mema’s friends would sit at the kitchen table, giving a play-by-play of every wrong ever committed by the ex-husband. I would hear stories that made me almost swear I would never trust love.

There was just so much hated-pure and simple- and vengeance between every divorced couple I knew of.

Until I knew David and his mom,Ann.

After the cookout was over, I told David that I was really surprised at how everything went with his parents. He smiled and said, “You should tell my mom this.”

I walked over to Ann and asked her how it was that they got along so well after the divorce and exactly what made them different from everyone else.

She sat me down at the picnic table, looked straight at me and said, “I made a choice. We made a choice.”

Her words became engraved into my heart that day. Simple,profound, beautiful words.

“I made a choice.”

Ann then explained,talking to me as if I was a woman and not just some silly, nosey 16 year old girl.

“We fell in love years ago, we got married and we had two children together. We chose each other back then. We saw good things in each other and we wanted to be with each other.”

I nodded my head, listening to her, reading her lips, fully aware that this wasn’t an ordinary conversation.

“If I choose to talk bad about David’s dad, then I’m also talking bad about myself….because I chose him. I fell in love with him, married him, had children with him….what does that say about me?”

I’m so stunned by this revelation, by the way she’s talking to me in a gentle,firm voice that I just sit there, giving her my full attention.

“Another thing, these boys are half of me, half of him…if we talk bad about each other..then we are also talking bad about our sons. We chose to have these two sons, and now we need to continue to choose to see the good in each other and in our sons.”

Choosing. Choices. Continue.

“It hasn’t always been easy and we are not perfect by any means but the important thing is that everyday we make the best choices we can and that includes choosing to see the good and the love we once shared and still have for our sons instead of the differences and what went wrong in our marriage.”

Imperfect but important.

Good outweighs bad.

Love can change.

I decided then and there that if I ever decided to get married and if I got divorced, that I would follow Ann’s example and choose to live after a divorce the way she did instead of how I had seen others live.

It just made so much sense to me as a naive 16 year old girl.

Over the years, as my friends married and divorced, I would tell them the story of Ann and encourage them to make choices that showed love and compassion, understanding and respect for what once was and what could now be.

My friends would chide me and say, “Well,that’s easy for you to say when you haven’t been in this situation..it’s different when it’s your choice.”

They had a point. We never really know how we will handle things until we have to walk the line.

Ann’s words hit particularly hard in 2015 when my own marriage began to fall apart. I had to dig deep to make the choice to continue to love, to see the good and be willing to let go with grace and accept changes if it was meant to be.

Choose. Love. Change. Continue.

During those dark days while we danced on the ragged edge of reconciliation and separation, we talked about choosing to still be good to each other for the sake of our children and because it was the right choice to make.

Our marriage survived and that time gave me a greater understanding of the depths of how much Ann had gone through as a woman and a mother to wrestle with her own emotions to use good sense and knowledge to make the best choices for the long run.

Several weeks ago, another friend sent me a text.

“I got served divorce papers this morning.”

When he came by to see me, I told him to about Ann’s choices and he said, “I hope we can do that..I think I can, I would like to anyway.”

Hope. Desire. Choose.

In the midst of pain, in the chaos of change, in the sweet by and by, in each and every moment, we make choices.

We can choose to remember the good, let go of the bad and watch how love changes.

We can choose to sit across from a 16 year old girl and share with her wisdom that she’ll spend a lifetime pondering.

We can choose to reach across the table,across the barriers, across the ragged edge and find a way to bridge the differences, connect on another level and love in different ways.

We can choose to give and to receive compassion, understanding,forgiveness, and grace. We can choose to laugh again.

That was Ann’s choice. It is my choice. It can be yours.

Jeanna’ Mead

8 33 a.m. 11-4-18

Www.jeannasoul.com

👣💗 With much gratitude to

Ann Carns, David’s mom.

Her choices and her words have shaped my life.