Misunderstood

I didn’t write this.. Jeff Foster did… But it hit me so hard that I cried and then I pulled on my boots and straighten my shoulders and danced anyway

THE INCREDIBLE JOY OF BEING MISUNDERSTOOD

There are people
who will never understand you,
agree with you,
or even like you.

Mothers. Fathers. Siblings and other family members. Bosses. Employees. Spiritual teachers. Therapists. Clients.

No matter how hard you try. No matter how much you change, rage at them, contort yourself, learn all the magic of this world, and attempt to become exactly what they want and need you to be. No matter how much you fawn and “people please”, they will never accept you, love you, approve of you, validate your path and life choices. They will never celebrate your successes with you, mourn with you, meet you in deep love and intimacy. They will never get to know you, the real you, the you you so desperately want to be known. You will always feel unseen, invalidated, misunderstood by them. They will live with their version of you, their image of you, their fantasy of you, a picture in their own minds, perhaps until they die, and nothing you can do, or not do, will change that.

You may exhaust yourself, trying to get someone like this to finally SEE you.

You may try “compassion”. Being more and more agreeable and empathic and understanding. Giving gifts. Acts of service. Compliments. Giving endless amounts of time and energy to them. Working on yourself. Being “available”. Trying to be “good” for them. Agreeing with them when really you don’t. Saying yes when you mean no. Saying no when you mean yes. Ignoring all of your own boundaries.

You may spend hours and hours trying to explain your position, your views, your path, opening and dissecting your precious heart. Listening deeply to them. Being open and empathic. Rephrasing, rewording, reconfiguring yourself, trying all kinds of different tacks, trying to break through, trying to get them to see.

You may cling to the hope that one day, one day, they will change.

“If they only got to know the real me!”

But no matter how hard you try, and no matter how long you hope and wait, they won’t budge. They stay fixed in their beliefs, judgements, narratives, opinions, behaviours. They may even refuse to self-reflect, look at themselves, or even consider the possibility of change.

Why won’t they change?

Is there something wrong with YOU?

Is it YOUR fault that things are this way? Are YOU to blame for this lack of connection, closeness?

Should you try even harder to be understood, then? Be even kinder, more empathic, more understanding, nicer, more spiritual? Maybe if you offer them pure unconditional love, they will transform? Maybe if you become the best, most compassionate, most selfless, most [fill in the blank] person in the world, they will finally soften, and their love will flow effortlessly to you? It’s a beautiful dream.

But it soon becomes a nightmare.

One day you realise, you are fighting a losing battle. You are at war with reality. You are trying to manipulate and control how someone else feels, what they think, their values, their reality, their inner world. You are trying to “fix” them, in a sense, control their feelings and thoughts, alter their path, and it’s an impossibility.

If you are honest with yourself, you are doing the same to yourself too. And you actually feel exhaustion, resentment, anger, despair, even fear, underneath the whole damn project.

You are powerless to change them. Where does your power lie? In presence. In being authentically yourself. In the truth of your feelings and desires, however painful. In your courage to look within.

You discover the lost child in you that just wants to be loved, but is innocently looking in the wrong places, to the wrong people. For as much as it wants to be loved, it is scared of really being loved. For love is confused with abandonment, or enmeshment which is also a kind of abandonment, and either way, true intimacy is a threat. And that’s why it looks to the wrong people. There’s no chance of ever being seen, and so there’s no chance of ever being destroyed. It’s safe, and unsafe, all at the same time. We long for God, and we fear God’s penetrating gaze.

Some of us have mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers who will never see us.

Some people choose partners who will never see them.

In the end, you meet yourself anyway.

You discover your own wounding. And somewhere deep down, you know that love is not something you have to fight for, manipulate yourself or others for, not something that has to be won, not something you need to prove yourself worthy of.

You tire of trying to get water out of a dried-up well.

You find an infinite and holy well of love inside yourself.

And you gravitate towards other wells that give water freely.

You open yourself to the sacred water of life.

It is such a relief to not have to prove yourself anymore. To anyone.

You don’t have to be liked. Others don’t have to agree with you. They are free to judge you, tell stories about you, distrust you and your motivations, or ignore you completely.

And you are free. You are free to engage with them or walk away. You are free to love them, AND find yourself moving away from them. Or not. You are free to speak your truth, or not. To set boundaries, lovingly, clearly. Or not. You are free to be you, to prioritise self-love and to let yourself be loved and seen by others who actually do have the capacity to truly love you, and see you. To find your true friends, your true family, those who actually want you. To discover your true place on this Earth.

When others don’t want you as you are, they are giving you a wonderful gift: the freedom of yourself. You may just discover this, if you are willing to plumb the depths of your own beautiful heart.

  • Jeff Foster.

So here is my own words now.. writing my heart out is just my way of doing things.. it’s therapeutic for me.

I’m still healing from my battle with the Covid dragon… and it’s been one helluva ride.

The physical aspect has thrown me for a loop.. over and over again. Most people don’t see what happens when I’m alone.. they don’t see me push myself off the bed with my hands, try to steady myself to walk to the bathroom and then fall in the doorway.. most people don’t see the bruises or the tears that roll from my eyes as I grit my teeth again.

That’s one thing that I can handle, though, I can handle the pain and the weakness and the frustration with myself.. with my own body but, what really, really hurts is the words and actions of others which I can’t control or handle .

I’ve had family members tell me that i should stay home and quit working on others because I’m “endangering” them since I’m not vaccinated and don’t wear a mask.

I’ve actually been disowned by some family members because of my choices concerning Covid and my conservation political views.

It hurts like hell but it is what it is. I’ve accepted it… but I’m leaving the door open just in case they ever decide to reach out to me again .

I’ve spent a lot of time pondering what really matters to me and I’ve realized that I’ve made mistakes and choices that weren’t the best… and I’ve apologized and tried to begin again.

Sometimes it just doesn’t work that way… and no matter what I say or do, I feel like I’m damned .. damned if I do and damned if I don’t so I just do the best I can and hope it’s enough.

I can love like crazy but I can’t read minds as well as I can read lips and that’s just the way it is.

I’m always willing to listen and to talk when the intention is to understand and be understood.. to heal and not to hurt but I’ve also chosen to be still and wait for others to make the first move this time .

That’s hard.. because, by nature, I want to take the reins and rile up and get things resolved but I’m learning to let go and let God

I keep that door open, too, just in case, because I would love to be able to understand and be understood.

R

Safe Past

“To forgive is to visit the past and come back safe and sound.”

She read those words

Shuddered just a bit

The truth hit hard

Maybe it was not quite that easy

But then again

Maybe it was

She only knew

This much was true

She had to forgive herself

For holding the silence in

For keeping the ‘peace’

When she should have screamed

She visited the past

Saw the child she was

And told her that she was

Safe and sound, now

💙 Jeanna’ Mead

6 38 a.m. 12.8.21

Holy Hot Mess, too!

The reason I don’t “borrow” books from the library or from friends.. words grab my attention and I begin writing in the margins and underlining paragraphs..
Years ago, Janet Mary Rozdil Moltzan , shared these wise words that actually gave me peace instead of anxiety, and taught me to let go “you’re not in control.. you never have been and you never will be”

That feels RIGHT… I’m only on this ride.. doing the best I can and letting go of the illusion that I’m in control or perfect

I’ve learned during my Covid journey just how imperfect I am and how messy life can be .., and you know what, I’m really glad I’m on this journey.. it’s not the road I would have chosen but this route sure has bought out the best and the worst in many ways.. It’s changed my views and made me stronger in many ways but not strong enough to resist the urge to write in brand new books!

One More Minute…

“Don’t focus on what you only have left because it could be one more minute or 50 more years.”

I was messaging with my friend and colleague, Helen Patterson, about getting together soon and then we shared a little about what was happening in our lives and our businesses.

I told her that I thought one of her friends, Rachelle, was being very brave in her recent posts and podcasts.

Helen told me that Rachelle had struggled but had made amazing progress and had chosen to share her story so other women could get it.

In just over a month, I’ll be celebrating another birthday, and, every now and then, it hits me hard.

“Can I really be that old?!”

“Where did the time go?”

“Do I have another 30,40,50 good years in me?”

“Am I strong enough, pretty enough, good enough?”

“Am I aging gracefully?”

“How can I FEEL like I’m only 34 but be twenty years older?”

“I am just getting started, do I have time to do everything I want to do?”

Those are the things that go through my mind when I’m training or doing a massage or writing out my hopes and plans.

These are the thoughts that tumble around when I’m standing in front of the mirror looking at my body, and catching glimpses of my soul in my eyes.

Helen’s words hit me straight in my heart-simple, direct, profound.

Don’t focus on what you only have left because it could be one more minute or 50 more years.”

Damn straight.

This past year, every since Covid came roaring like a dragon, scaring us into taking Shelter In Place and having mandates for masks and social distancing, people have chosen to live with such precautions, limitations and fear.

They have stopped seeing family members, stopped celebrating holidays, stopped getting together for birthdays and Sunday dinners.

I get it. I really do. They are afraid they will get Covid.

But, here’s the thing…..I did, too, in the beginning. I stayed home, did Shelter In Place. Took off my clothes in the garage if I went anywhere, santized my house and my hands and my car over and over.

We didn’t celebrate last Easter… no baskets, no gifts, no Easter dresses, no family dinner. It was heartbreaking.

We did it because that’s what we were told to do and expected to do.

Then it hit me- really hit hard.

What I was doing-what we were all doing- was taking away precious time, giving away chances, missing opportunities, losing out.

In an attempt to prolong our lives, we gave up what made life worth living.

I know people that stopped seeing their children and grandchildren because they were afraid of Covid.

Others haven’t left their home because the ones that love them are so afraid that they will lose them.

It’s became a game of chance, of control, of hedging the bets, of making deals with God.

“I’ll stay away from everyone…. But you better add another year to my life now that I’ve given up this year.”

“I am doing all this…. so I better not get sick from Covid or anything else.”

“Here’s the deal, I’m going to follow all these rules, do everything by the book… and then I’ll be safe, right?”

Maybe so…but, I can’t help but think of it this way.

Only God knows the number of our days.

People still die from heart attacks, in car accidents, in senseless tragedies. People lose their battles with cancer, with mental illness, with other congestive, chronic sickness.

All we have is this minute…. and maybe another fifty years.

Like my friend, Helen, said, “Don’t focus on what you only have left because it could be one more minute or 50 more years”

I think that’s what’s happening, though. People have been focusing so hard on to stay here and not to be left or to leave that they have not lived!

I stopped doing that way back in May when I reopened the doors to my massage studio, Rockwall Body and Soul Massage.

I practice universal safety and sanitize procedures, but I touch people. There’s no social distancing in massage and that’s one of the beautiful things about it.

I don’t wear a mask. I have to read lips so people that come to see me express such a sense of relief when I tell them they can remove their masks.

I’ve spent so much precious time with my children, and my girls and my bundles.

I’ve been busy creating memories, making damn sure they feel loved and wanted and needed.

I’ve kissed and cuddled, shook hands and embraced. I’ve wiped tears and stroked faces.

I’ve gone to breakfast, to lunch and to dinner.. I’ve met friends for drinks at the bar, sat outside on patios sipping margaritas and listening to music.

I’ve gone dancing and I danced with anyone that asked.

I go to the gym almost every single day. I meet with my trainer, Phu, and we hold hands constantly. He places his hands on my body, I hold his legs when he stretches me. We have a comfortable intimacy. I know he’ll catch me when I stumble and he knows when to let me do my own thing.

My focus is on living every single minute of my life to the fullest.

I don’t know and neither does anyone else if I only have this minute or if I’ll have fifty more years.

I do know this much for sure.

I will not bide my time, waiting for something to be done with, or to run it’s course.

That’s not what my focus is going to be about.

I’ll do everything in my power to stay healthy and to keep my family, my friends and my clients healthy, too.

Those are the things that I can control, but life… whether it’s one more minute or fifty more years, like I hope for, is going to be spent living every single second of it!

I don’t want to have any regrets… no second guessing.. no missed kisses… no holding back.

I am planning on meeting my friend, Helen, soon. I am planning on drinking that bottle of wine that James gave me with him. I’m celebrating Easter this year with my family and for my birthday, in just over a month, I’m going to savor every single bite of that chocolate sheet cake and love on everybody that comes near me.

Just like my wise and wonderful friend, Helen, told me to do.

Helen and Jeanna’… In 2019. We will get another picture very soon.

👣♥️ Jeanna’ Mead

8 14 a.m. April 3 2021

I have to add to this… On August 3,2021. I got Covid after going into quarantine on July 26 ..

Covid hit me hard with migraines, fatigue, and coughing .. But the worst part was when it hit my left leg and I couldn’t walk.. from a woman that danced, worked out, and massaged with legs and feet.. Suddenly I couldn’t even walk to the bathroom or stand up without shooting pains from my knee …

I went to the doctor on August 13 and recieved my first steroid shot, and 3 prescriptions for antibiotics, inflammation, and pain.

I couldn’t do much of anything but be still.. which was exactly what I needed to be.. I recieved instead of gave

My daughter had me stay with her., I slept in her bed feeling her hand soothing me when I coughed, feeling her love when she bought me food and water over and over.

I felt the strength of my sons.. the boys I used to carry now carried me. The boys I used to feed, now cooked me meals, bought me coffee, made me brownies and grilled cheese sandwiches.

My husband came home from driving to spend a week with me. He made me laugh through the tears, he picked me up and carried me up the stairs to our daughter’s house, to the pool party, and from our living room to the bed.

Instead of being ashamed of me, he made me feel beautiful and desirable and special.. As if the walker was just a new toy instead of a cumbersome means of getting around. Greg placed me on the seat and ran with me, and we both laughed so hard, even when it tipped over and I tumbled out!

Greg had to take off driving again and he wrapped me in his arms, prayed for me, kissed me and made me promise to heal so I can dance with him when he came home.

My friends stopped by with food and vitamins, my brother and sister-in-law bought dinner and food for a week. One friend came to my daughter’s when I was I was so weak and sick and started giving me magnetic massages which she keeps giving am over and over.

I felt love coming from so many directions. Texts and messages boosted my spirits and reminded me of what really mattered-all the people I love and that love me back in different ways.

In the silence, I started reading again.. finding my faith and my relationship with God… I had put Him on the back burner.. using bad experiences with churches and religion as my crutch.

He who knows me best, let me come to Him on my terms, slowly and tenderly, much like the steps I was taking.

He used the words of friends to reach inside the walls I had built, and He used the songs of my childhood to bring me to my knees and up where I wanted to be.

He made sure I had the books I needed, the scriptures that fit perfectly with the situation I was in and He let me stumble and fall and get frustrated and riled up.. while He waited.

God was still… because He knew that I needed this time to reflect and ponder and then to pull close when my soul was ready.

Here I am .. on this Covid journey … It’s October 1 now… I stopped seeing clients on July 26… But God has provided my place with great therapists and great clients that have been gracious and understanding.

I’ve started to walk again-holding onto Phu”s hands during training, holding the walls sometimes, and holding on to my son.

I told my doctor that I wouldn’t wish anyone this Covid but I’m glad I’m on this journey… She looked surprised and I said, “If I hadn’t been on this journey, I wouldn’t have been still, I wouldn’t have listened and I wouldn’t have recieved. I needed to do all of that.”

There’s a reason for everything, a season for everything, a time to plant and a time to bloom, a time to weep and a time to dance.

It was my time to be still and soon I’ll be dancing again.

Yesterday another doctor told me that the steroids that helped me battle Covid caused cataracts in my eyes. I cried for about a minute when my son, Hunter, picked me up and then, I pulled on my boots and said, “get me some chocolate and l will be just fine!.”.

You see, God is already there… working on the details.. His eyes are on me and I don’t have to worry… I can see that He’s got plans up His sleeve for me and it’s gonna be amazing!

He’s given me the courage and the strength along this journey and I’m not afraid… I’m living the life He’s given me right now!

Suddenly

Sunday Afternoon

He sat

She stood

Close enough

To touch

He spoke

She heard

For the first time

It took a long time

Years

For them to get here

Where a Sunday afternoon

Could be shared like this

She spoke

He heard

They touched

It felt good

To be in this place

To know

Each other

A little bit better

Than the Sunday afternoon before

👣♥️ Jeanna’ Mead

9 00 a.m. 7 22 20

http://www.jeannasoul.com

Touch Someone

In her massage office in Alabama, my friend has a sign posted:
“When you touch a body, you touch the whole person-intellect, spirit & emotions.”
She is a healer, a facilitator, a conduit for connecting a person’s energy to the source of healing in the universe.
She does not cure people, she would never claim that. Just like I don’t.

During the Covid crisis and Shelter In Place, we both had to close our practices. We couldn’t touch clients. We couldn’t touch anyone.

It felt like our hands were tied and with that, so was everything else- _emotions, intelligence, spirit. It was hard. It was very hard.

Some people think what we do is just a job, a career, that we have chosen.

That’s true for many massage therapists. It’s different for us, though.

Jennifer and I both feel as if massage therapy is our calling, it is what we were created to do. It goes beyond a job description. It is who we are.

Years ago,a very good friend of mine said to me,” There is no separation between you and your business. You are Rockwall Body and Soul Massage and it is you. You are complete when you massage, when you give a massage, you seem to receive back as much as you give.”

He is exactly right. It’s the whole truth. It’s also why I’m so particular about who gives me a massage. I will only receive bodywork from those that I trust with my soul. It’s the same way as making love, or having sex… Only those that fall in love with the naked soul should be able to touch the body. That’s how I feel anyways

That’s why Jennifer’s message bought tears to my eyes. She understands so well what touch means to me.

We have been friends a long time and shared many stories-personally and professionally.

Yesterday she messaged me and my heart felt as if she had taken my words and wrote them down for me.

“When touch a person, I lose my self. I shed my skin. I am a tool. Molding muscles and tissues into a piece of art work that is soft and knotless. I connect on a level that is beyond touch. Finding the lack of flow, and creating space where there is none. Unraveling knotted fibers, smoothing out scars and adhesions. Assessing each area for congestion caused by stress whether it’s physical or emotional. This is what I do. It completes me.”

“Intimately , it is similar … When I make love, I connect fully, giving myself over completely, connecting on a level that is beyond physical-Heart, Mind and Soul.
When I fuck, I connect,too, fully, feeding on passion, and offering my own up in exchange. I can guard the heart and keep some emotions at bay, but not all of them. I am able to disassociate enough to protect myself but just barely and with a lot of effort. I have to focus on feelings of physical pleasure more extremely than otherwise necessary.”

We are both survivors of sexual assault. I can and do split myself into three parts still. I can be touched, and not feel. I can feel without being touched. I can go through the motions-heart guarded and intact while my body moves.

If my emotional cup is empty, I can swallow the bitter taste and my body can go through the paces. I can hold back most of my feelings for as long as it takes. I’m used to it

This serves me well when I’m in training and my knee gives out. My willpower takes over and I push through the pain my body feels. I can close my hands and put my spirit elsewhere while my body is present for whatever reason.

It’s a blessing sometimes. Other times, it’s a curse.

There are certain people that give and receive touch from me that fills me on every level. These people are as vital to my well being as oxygen… During Shelter In Place, I craved their touch so deeply because, quite simply, their touch calms my spirit in ways I can’t put into words, try as I might.

*Regardless, in either case, because I am either focused on complete connection, or guarding myself from emotional pain, I am often incapable of holding back, that includes my noises as well as giving and receiving pleasure.
I feel the urge, I act upon it. I do not want to hold back, there is an innate need that has to be fulfilled.
If it is not fulfilled, I am left feeling empty. Needing more. Wanting more.
This is why I am so insatiable now that I’m able to touch again
For so long, I have been empty. I have cried, I have begged,
I have pleaded for someone to help me fill my cup.
How many times did I say that when I went to fill my cup, the machines were broken, out of order signs on each and every source?
My cup was broken anyway, shattered in a million pieces.
It was impossible to fill. My cup is still broken, but I am finding the glue to mend it.
It at least holds that essence of life that is so necessary for completeness.
I am living again, I am thriving. I am starving for more.”

Jennifer had been married for over 17 years to a man that withheld affection and touch so she received the touch she craved through her work. She gave massages and in giving, she received.

During Covid, Jennifer finally signed the divorce papers and began to write a new chapter of her book of life.

“When I touch someone, I share in the healing. When I touch someone, I become a part of something larger than myself.”

She is getting new cups and filling her broken cups and she is finding ways to be complete.

She can touch again and so can I .

👣♥️ Jeanna’ Mead
7 42 a.m. 6.24.20
http://www.jeannasoul.com

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.

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

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