Day 64 – The invited image

Photo by Dan Cook on Unsplash

Day 64 – What is the image that woke you up this morning?  Was there residue from your dream? Or perhaps when asked about an “image” what emerges is a sensation, of the dog’s soft fur under your palm, of her beating heart when you pick her up? Or perhaps it is a song, or a gesture, or an impulse you have to move a certain way, or smell a familiar waft—the air reminding you of that someone or someplace special?  The invitation to imagine is not always welcome.  For some, it only cracks open the door that tightly protects from past or present harm. For some it is a demand, when what is wanted is a gift or glass of water.

 

The invitation to play with ideas, or materials, with memories, or dreams, with images or sensations is an essential part of expressive arts therapy. 

 

 

 

A palette of grief

 

For so many years

it was only fear

heart-pounding

gut-wrenching

ear-ringing fear

 

not just as a child

 

of touching

and not being touched

of the cold, hard buckle

and the sweat freeing grind

of the emptiness

and the gag

 

not just as a child

 

my days were spent smiling,

pleasantries, and a helping hand

 

sometimes mine

 

the generosity of play

and superficiality

of learning how to pretend

 

not just as a child

 

to know more

than the smell

of hypervigilance

 

“Just keep trying”

move forward

eat, sleep, listen to the news

 

even a false self

takes effort

 

even in exile

my fantasies are

of running away

 

not just as a child

 

wait –

are or were?

 

What of the days now?

 

when I

can be alone

and still feel

I am loved

 

this is new

 

and yet

they lay alongside

I lay alongside

the days

 

all of them

 

when I still jump

if the spoon drops

 

when I still cozy up

to that familiar

 

dread

and when I remember

what will never die

and yet was never alive

 

5/25/22