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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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Crazy Times

She never thought the day would come

That the doors would have to be shut

Keeping her from doing what she loves

But it’s crazy times just now

What she does isn’t deemed “essential”

And she knows damn well it’s not quite true

That’s just like beauty

In the eye of the beholder

Crazy to believe it anyways

But she aches to touch

Aches to be touched

Misses the music and the lyrics

The good vibes

The scent of coconut oil on her hands

The feel of another person’s skin

She misses the pulse she feels, the rise and fall of breath

She longs to be needed,to fill the void

To step up and press down

Give her all and get more

It’s crazy how she knows

What to do and when and where to go

But right now

These crazy times

Are keeping her

From doing what she loves

So she’ll make do

In other ways

Hold her breath

Find the treasures

On the ragged edges

And make it through

These crazy times

Until she can do what she was born to do.

👣🧡 Jeanna’ Mead

3.31.20. 6 46 a.m

http://www.jeannasoul.com

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Crazy Daisies

She would rather have

Crazy Daisies in pitchers

Or Mason jars

Instead

She would rather have

Tequila and whiskey

Instead

She would rather be picked up

Taken for a ride

In blue jeans and barefeet

Instead

She would rather receive

A simple bracelet

Handwritten card

Instead

She would rather have

Chocolate kisses

Instead

She would rather be

Taken out for burgers and beer

A little live music somewhere

Instead

She would rather be

Kissed again and again

Instead

She would just wait and see

What will be

Instead

Jeanna’ Mead

6 23 a.m. 2.13.20

http://www.jeannasoul.com

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She Knew

Listening to this song while drinking coffee in Christmas morning

.https://open.spotify.com/track/4z8sz6E4YyFuEkv5o7IJni?si=H-jlAXihRWC4iq1qQieQS.

Mary knew. I’m sure of it.

A woman’s intuition.

She knew and she kissed her baby boy knowing full well she was kissing the face of God.

She wasn’t intimidated. She wasn’t afraid. She was His mother and she did what came naturally. She kissed Him. She loved Him. She held Him and she soothed Him.

She gave Him love and she received love back.

Imagine this, the Lord Jesus snuggling up to His mom, nestling in her embrace, loved and accepted, cherished and wanted.

Mary was filling His needs-for warmth, for food, for shelter, for attention, for compassion, for change (yes, He had to be changed.. yes,even the baby Jesus pooped).

We tend to gloss over some parts but we shouldn’t, it’s the truth.

Babies need to be changed and sometimes it stinks and it’s messy but we do it anyways, because that’s what love does.

Love does what’s necessary and what’s good and what has to be done.

Not just the things that look good and feel good, but the hard things, the tiring things and the things that take time and energy.

Mary knew it had to be done and she did it with love, with intention, and with gratitude that she was the one who was the chosen to do so.

Chosen.

Think about that for a second.

Mary was chosen to be the mother of Jesus.

And she knew it.

She didn’t understand why, but she knew she was.

So she kissed her baby boy and she kissed the face of God and He, in return, kissed her.

Today when you choose to kiss someone, kiss them with the intention and knowledge that you are kissing the face of God, too.

There is truth there.. for each and every person was created by God, for a reason and a plan that He alone understands.

We need to remember this…

Just as Mary gave Love to her baby boy, we need to give love, not just gifts wrapped in paper and tied with ribbons, with tags of a few chosen people.

We need to give love generously, gently, graciously to those people that cross our paths, that come into our lives, that somehow bump into us.

Ever stop and think that maybe, just maybe God chose that meeting, chose that person to come into your life, chose YOU to be the one that’s present and in awe of the chance to give and receive love.

Kind of like Mary was.

I think we know this.

Intuition.

We know that Love is the greatest gift we have.

So please give it, receive it, share it, find it, celebrate it, embrace it and be it.

Choose to be like Mary and choose to be like God .

I think we all want to do this just has we instinctively know that Love is what we should be giving, but we get intimidated and afraid.

We fall back on rules and regulations and on lists and others things.

We choose.

Sometimes we choose not to love, not to give, not to receive, not to embrace and not to be present and in awe.

Isn’t that a shame?

Think about it… A baby needs a mother.. needs to be held and touched, to be nurtured and loved.

It’s that simple.

And really, so is everything else.

Mary knew that.

And so do we, deep down in our soul.

So Merry Christmas, may you love more and be loved more.

Jeanna’Mead

7 32 a.m. 12.25.19

http://www.jeannasoul.com

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Men

Open letter to men,

I want you to know that I see the ways in which we (women) have contributed to the wounding of the masculine psyche.

We don’t often recognize that while we talk about how men have hurt women in this culture, women are also hurting men.

With our words, our actions, and our unreasonable exceptions of you.

I want you to know that being vulnerable is masculine.

That to give me the gift of seeing you in your vulnerability is a blessing, not something to curse.

I want you to know that I will never tell you to “man-up” again. It must hurt to hear that when you are stumbling, you are no longer perceived as a man.

You may even be confused as to what’s expected of you now that so much has changed.

Dear men, we still want you. We still need you.

I want you to know that your energy, your presence, your commitment and your devotion show me that I am safe, protected and cared for.

I want you to know that I can hold space for you too, just like you do for me.

I can witness your emotions, sit with your tears, or be with you when you’re confused.

You are human, it’s ok if you stumble.

I will not leave you if you cry.

I want you to know that you’re not expected to perform or be ready to at all times.

Most of all, making love is about presence, it’s about passion, it’s about true connection.

Make eye contact with me when our bodies connect, show me you’re with me, give me your energy, and you will feel our passion rise to create true love.

When things go sideways let’s laugh together. Intimacy is more than just sex, it’s about kisses, snuggles, eye-gazing, and conversation. It’s many forms of expression.

I want you to know, that you are most attractive when you are fully expressed. I want to see you dance, to laugh, to play, to hug and give/receive love.

Dear men, you are safe to be yourself.

As a woman, I promise to do my best to contribute to the rising and healing of the masculine, alongside the feminine.

This is not a one sided journey. We need women to rise, and we need men. We need you too, so please show up with us.

I want you to know that I see you.

You are valuable beyond measure and the gifts you provide are different and unique to what a woman provides, and this is why communities are made up of all genders, not just men or just women.

We are meant to work together, to support one another, to cherish each others differences, not demonize them because we have false expectations that aren’t being met.

I want you to know that I will do my healing work and support women in theirs so that projections of the mother or father are not placed upon you in relationship. And I invite you to do the same.

You are not responsible for my happiness. It is not your job to “fix me”.

You have the opportunity to lead as a conscious man in this world. To demonstrate what it’s like to live with an open heart, as a humble leader with a mission.

And I believe in you.

~ Rising Woman ~

Sometimes I must share what I’ve read and how it touches my soul.

This does.

A few days ago, another woman made a post about how when a man leaves his cell phone on silent, and turned face down, and has to unlock it when he picks it up, it means he’s messing around. She didn’t know the man but had been observing him at a coffee shop. She was quick to jump all over his case by the way he had his cell phone.

I couldn’t just let it go.

“Maybe he’s deaf, maybe he’s a massage therapist, maybe he’s a First Responder and knows what happens when a phone lands in the wrong hands.

She got her panties twisted… “That’s the way most men are.”

Bullshit.

I love men.

My best friends are men.

I’m married to a man.

I have three grown ass sons that are good men.

I know they are not perfect but neither am I or any other women out there.

When I need a real friend, it’s my guys that come.. when I’m working late, it’s my guy friends that check on me, when I’m at the gym, it’s the guys that stop by and talk to me.

Most of my clients are guys.

I realized the reason why.

I make them comfortable. They can be vulnerable and strong. They can be silent or talk to me. They can fall asleep and know they are safe.

I hold space and I hold hands. I hold secrets and I hold their regrets. I hold on when they are falling apart and I hold back the demons when they feeling attacked and alone.

I’m a man lover. I will not let men be trashed or painted with broad brushes.

I will take them as they are and make them into what they want to be.

I’m gonna stand by my man…. Every single one of them.

And that’s all I got to say about that.

👣♥️ Jeanna’ Mead

6 22 a.m. 12.18.19

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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Diamonds

“Does it surprise you

That I dance

As if I have diamonds

At the meeting of my thighs”

Maya Angelou wrote these words

I claim them as my own mantra

Because I know full well

That my sexiness

My sassiness

Rubs some people all wrong

They look at me as if I should be ashamed

Or that I’m too much

And I am, for them anyways

Because I dance as if I have diamonds in the meeting of my thighs

I rise up

Let the music take my body

Wherever and however

It so desires

I dance

As if there’s a fire of passion

Burning within me

It’s one of the times

When I feel most alive

My body and soul

Become one

And I’m not ashamed

Not one bit

Of the diamonds that are in the meeting of my thighs.

👣♥️ Jeanna’ Mead

7 53 a.m. 7.8.19

http://www.jeannasoul.com

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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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Love Big Much

The other day while riding with my daughter, Kateley, I heard the sweet voice of Luke Everett, my three year old grandson, and then my daughter’s laugh.

She glanced over and me and told me what he had said.

“I love you big much, Momma.”

Then, seconds later, “I love Jamma big much,too”

I looked back at him and said, “Do you know how much I love you?”

“Yeth,”he said, without the “s”.

“Big Much!”

Isn’t that the simplest truth?

Before we know it, he’ll start saying “so much” or “very much” as his grammar improves but the simple,beautiful meaning of “big much” is what I’ll hold on to.

“Big” isn’t small, isn’t confined,isn’t limited. It goes higher and deeper, it’s strong, it’s tough,it’s more of everything.

When I think of “big,” I think of Texas- how vast and varied this state is, bordering the ocean, touching state lines, boating rivers,lakes,mountains and rugged terrain as well as well-manicured lawns and a diverse culture…so much in one state just like love.

Big Much Love is far- reaching, unconditional, exceptional and real.

It’s a brown eyed little boy with a mischievous grin and long sandy blonde hair.

It’s Luke Everett.

And it’s how we all should be.

Loved and loving.

Big Much.

❤❤Jeanna’ Mead

10 05 a.m 5-14-19

Www.jeannasoul.com