Pour Bonne-maman

Il y a déjà 3 ou 4 semaines, ma grand-mère de 95 ans est tombée, à moitié renversée alors qu'elle allait rentrer dans l'ascenseur. Elle n'avait pas pensé que quelqu'un pouvait en sortir et certainement que l'autre personne n'avait pas pensé que quelqu'un pouvait y rentrer. Elle s'est cassé une vertèbre.

Bonne-maman, je l'appelle. Pour la 4ème génération, c'est Bonne-mimi.

Depuis 2 semaines, elle souffre le martyr et ne peut que difficilement bouger, et comme le disait si bien Jacques Brel, en quelques mois elle est passée "du lit à la fenêtre, du lit au fauteuil et du lit au lit"...

Et hier, les larmes ont coulé toute la journée, par intermittance. Elle n'a plus envie de se battre. La douleur est épuisante, trop présente. Bonne-maman souhaiterait en finir, être rappelée par celui qu'elle appelle le Seigneur. Alors je suis allée danser hier soir, le "5 Rhythms", cette pratique de méditation en mouvement qui fait vivre les émotions à travers le corps et non la tête. J'y suis partie la tête pleine de tristesse et les yeux bouffis d'avoir trop pleuré, certaine que davantage de larmes couleraient pendant la session. Et puis, j'ai été surprise...

J'ai à peine pensé à Bonne-maman pendant ces 3 heures et je me suis étonnée à sourire, à être bien, à partager qui j'étais dans l'instant avec des partenaires éphémères... Une fois ou l'autre, une pensée ou une question me traversait l'esprit, "où est passée ma tristesse?" Impossible de mettre le doigt dessus!

Pour finir la session, l'ensemble des danseurs forme un cercle au milieu duquel chacun peut jeter les mots qu'il souhaite. J'ai parlé de Bonne-maman, j'ai voulu lui dédier ma danse et lui souhaiter que la douleur cesse, même si pour en arriver là, il faut que ce soit sa vie qui s'en aille - si c'est ce qu'elle veut. C'est alors que plus de 100 personnes se sont donné la main et ont eu une pensée bienveillante pour Bonne-mimi! Mes larmes se sont remises à couler. Des larmes remplies de gratitude et d'amour pour ces gens connus ou inconnus.

J'espère que Bonne-maman a eu quelques secondes ou plus de bien-être. Pour ma part, je me suis sentie soutenue, aidée et aimée.

When neuroscience "meets" psychology but doesn't see it...

What an interesting scientific result I’ve just heard this morning! I didn’t think I would ever be excited about science anymore… The funny thing is that the woman telling her results wasn’t actually completely convinced herself and said she remained very cautious because she’d only studied 10 subjects. But let me tell you more about her study.

She takes 2- and 3-days old babies and while they’re asleep, she makes them listen to either classical music (Bach and Mozart) or spoken words (language). While this is happening, the babies are monitored by a technique called fMRI that allows observing which part of the brain is activated for a given task/action. What she saw in those babies is that a specific part of the right brain hemisphere was activated when the music was on while it was a part of the left brain hemisphere that lit up in the machine when they were talked to.

The woman said that she was very surprised that differentiation between the two brain hemispheres happened so early in life and she wasn’t expecting this. I wondered why she was surprised: language is a sound that is structured, rational and follows well established rules; it would therefore have to activate the left, logos, masculine brain hemisphere. Music on the other hand falls into creativity, diffuse awareness and feelings and would have to be picked up by the right, creative, Eros, feminine brain hemisphere. Still, I realised quickly that I was the only one in the group of people she was talking to for whom her results made complete sense.

I felt rather frustrated that they couldn’t see the bigger picture but I decided to keep my mouth shut, mostly because of the professional body that I represented in this event. This study serves so well psychology… Yet, it is so surprising to scientists that they can’t believe it… Shame!

Sunday morning

Waking up at 6am on a Sunday is nothing unusual anymore. But getting ready to board the Eurostar makes it an exciting day for many reasons - meeting with my parents during the day, with Rosa for dinner, with my gran on Monday while she's decided she'd had enough with life. An exciting day also because I've made up my mind to change my hair with dark red layers...

But something much better tops my list of excitments...

The new life opening before me - filled with compassion, empowered by love, nourished by an intense spirituality, instilled by a growing sense of self-worth and humility... Compassion and love seem to open my chest and give space to a heart crippled for too long. Nourishing and mothering come first and spread large and wide within me leaving little or no space to the negativity that used to rule my own kingdom.

After a difficult winter, spring is coming soon and fast - I feel it inside as well as outside!

Love

Love.
A burning charcoal
Glowing red
Always warm
Never consuming

Love.
A flying dart
Hitting the bull
Always confident
Never missing

Love.
An open heart
Strong heartbeat
Always pouring
Never going empty

Love
Bigger than me
And bigger than you

Love
With no end and no limit

Women (4) - Standing up for oneself

He checks
Then double-checks.
What I do and don't do
What I say and don't say

Will be wrong
Will bring shame
Will awaken guilt.

But for the first time in my life
I shout
and scream

"Shut up you soul-eater
I'm not afraid
I don't owe you
Neither one nor two.
Get lost!"

And I am still alive and well...

Sacred tears

Something new has happened to me in the last few weeks, something that I hadn't expected. Now, looking back, there's nothing really weird about it really.

Every day as I travelled back home directly from work a sense of immense sadness would wrap my entire body and mind as I stand or sit on the tube, my heart would remind me of its existence, heavily loaded, or burning. I would look in for the entire journey and finally open the sacred door of my safe haven and the tears would flow, finally... Not easily at first but as days passed I have sometimes become a fountain offering to the world - to my world - a very personal and salty water. Amazingly my whole being would feel lighter as the tears dry up of their own, my heart would stop burning, my chest would open to the possibilities of the evening and a real positive sense of myself would somehow have crept in without my notice...

I wonder how much of those tear come from a real need a closure for my working day, a place and time where and when I have difficulty being myself and showing who I am. I know I am still putting the mask on as I close the door in the morning.
I wonder how much of those tears weep the small irritations and of the day.
I wonder how much of those tears heal the ancient sorrow and grief and shame that others - and myself - had never allowed in the open.
I wonder how much of those tears run down my cheeks for some unconscious reason still to be uncovered.

Whatever their reason to show up they're welcome because each time, very simply, they take me home.

Elle et moi

Pourquoi j'ai le cafard?
Je n'ai pas de nouvelles.
Pourquoi je broie du noir?
Je m'éloigne d'elle.

Elle c'est moi
et moi c'est elle.
Elle ne me connait pas
Je ne sais rien d'elle.

Elle est une étrangère
Je ne me reconnais plus.
Comme un bibelot sur une étagère
Qu'on a assez vu.

Que doit-on faire d'elle?
Je me sens mal.
Comment me rapprocher d'elle
Sans me faire encore plus de mal?

Rien ni personne ne m'arrête.
J'ai perdu toute ma confiance
En ce qui va apparaître
Et en ceux qui me font des avances.

Je tends les mains
A qui veut les prendre.
Elle espère que demain
Quelqu'un va l'entendre.

clairem --- 16 fév 1990
picture --- (The helpful shadow)

Bretagne en hiver

Le vent, la pluie
Que c'est joli !
Le vent, la pluie
Qu'est-ce que ça me dit ?

La mer en hiver
Ses moutons déchaînés
Ce vent si fier
Qu'il faut s'incliner.

Les arbres en sont déracinés
Les toits tout retournés
Les rues toutes inondées
Et nous dans tout ça ?

On a peur d'être emportées
On vit avec la mort
Attentives
Comme un pilote dans son mirador.

Dire que les gens sont furieux
Parce que les stations sont fermées
Ici pas de touristes
on est seules et appréciées.

clairem --- 15 Fév 1990

The invisible

Like a herd they hopped on
Buzzing, wild, strong and defiant
Tall and short, handsome or spotty
They're one of a kind with their uniforms.

Trousers down to expose their fashionable pants
Ties half undone
Nike rucksacks to complete the picture
They feel safe because they belong.

The leaders get off at the next stop and
The atmosphere grows quieter.
A free electron takes a seat
Seemingly looking out by the window but...

Really, throwing side-glances for a potential follower
Dying out to be called back in the circle.
He puts a brave face but
The world is heavy on his shoulders once again...

When another group of 10 leaves
There's only one to say good-bye.
The wrong one, though, the odd number
His heart sinks a little deeper and weeps.

He's the only one left as the train departs
He's the outsider living further afield
Beyond the borders.
He's invisible.

Who's that girl?

Who's that lovely girl
not feeling the sweet pain of longing?

Who's that sexy girl
not seing men as lovers or predators?

Who's that grounded girl
not getting lost in wild fantasies?

Who's that courageous girl
feeling safe looking at people in the eyes?

Who's that assertive girl
capable of changing her mind or crushing her principles?

Who's that confident girl
feeling home anywhere she goes?

Who's that vulnerable girl
giving an outer life to passing emotions?

Who's that artist girl
believing in her art?

She says she survived the long years of desertic conditions and witnessed
Climate change.
She says there is no way back.
At times storm-like, volcano-like or war-like
She invades, spreads, grows and takes over.

Change of scenario

One month tomorrow. Just one more month.

Moving out after 4 lines, acts, chapters, lives!
Whatever the time, it's been long enough.
Need a breath of fresh air, or two... I have outgrown the place.

I cannot hide any longer.
There is a life to be lived, to be loved, to be laughed, to be embraced...
I cannot let the show go on.
There is a twist in the story that needs integrating...
I can talk to the author but the decision is mine
There is no possible compromise...

The move will take place.
One month tomorrow. Just one more month.
A split second.
An eternity.

Birthday

It was my birthday yesterday and for once it felt good to say so, to be seen, to have some attention even if short lived and not necessarily by the people you like most.

I went to the baker next door, bought this whole chocolate cake and brought it back to work. I cut it and colleagues asked me "iwhat's the occasion?". "it is my birthday", I said. It was interesting to see their reactions; looking embarrassed, ashamed not to know (how could they when they arrived in the Department 3 months ago?), feeling gulty not to have bought the cake themselves, awkward for unknown reasons...

Inside I felt good, I felt present, I was home, I had just turned 36 and I was doing well. The sun had appeared to greet me after so many grey days and falling rain all night. The wetness of the ground reflected the strong sunlight and sent me signals that we were entering the third part of winter and that Nature has started her slow process of awakening toward Spring.

Later I met up with my friends except for the two closest of them who didn't make it for different (and good) reasons. Had I known it long on advance that they wouldn't be there I might not have organised anything. Instead...

... I did enter a new year without them. I look at this as new beginnings, new horizons, new insights, new way of relating maybe. Instead...

... we were 7 of us around this table sharing a good Spanish wine. For some unknown reason, seven (7) has always been my favorite number.

Seven by four makes twenty eight. 28 is the moon cycle. 4 is the number of stages in the moon cycle (new, first quarter, full, last quarter) and it is also the symbol of wholeness. 7... the rhythm necessary for change from one stage to the next...

It might be time for change and entry into another stage of the cycle.

Chinese New Year

Don't believe what my complete profile says. I'm not a rat. I am a pig. Indeed, a pig, according to Chinese Astrology. Given that it comes back every 12 years, that makes me ... 12, 24, 36, 48, 60 or 72... I won't go further that would really be pushing it.

Anyway, I missed the parade in London but I was on time to be with the crowd. Trust me... Today they estimated 275, 000 people between Trafalgar Square, Leicester Square and Soho. It was a mild, windless and rather grey winter day and as expected it was noisy, busy, smelly, colourful, friendly...

I took pictures, lots of them but you'll have to come back and revisit to see them as I still work with films I'm afraid. My Canon EOS 500 works still beautifully and I haven't got the money to buy something equivalent in digital... I've got other priorities! One day, maybe!! But the films are now gone to be developed and hopefully I'll upload (or is it download, I never know...) them this coming weekend.

Witches at their incantations

For the first time in years, I walked in the National Gallery in London. With no preconceived idea of what to see and where to go, I mostly wandered around some rooms, in awe of the architecture of the place, until... I was suddenly stopped, compelled to turned around and I fell on this painting by Salvator Rosa. This is what Wikipedia says about him:
"Salvator Rosa (1615-March15, 1673) was an Italian Baroque painter, poet and printmaker, born in Naples, but active there, Rome, and Florence. As a painter, he is best known as an "unorthodox and extravagant" and a "perpetual rebel" proto-Romantic. His life and writings were equally colorful."

Voilà des années que je n'avais pénétré dans la National Gallery à Londres. Je n'avais de plan précis et j'ai donc déambulé d'une pièce à l'autre, complètement émerveillée par la beauté du lieu jusqu'à ce que soudain, je m'arrête sans raison et me tourne - comme forcée... face à ce tableau de Salvator Rosa. Voilà ce que dit Wikipedia:
"Salvator Rosa' était un poète satirique, acteur, musicien et peintre italien né en 1615, près de Naples à Arenella et décédé en mars 1673 à Rome. La devise de Salvator "aut tace aut loquere meliora silentio" figure sur son autoportrait
.

I am not usually a great fan of this period but I simply fell in love with that specific painting. So much so that I actully bought a A2 size print of it... Darkness, fear, horror, disgust, sour smell, shame... don't they carry some traits of ours we've managed to forget and bury??

Je ne rafolle pas de la peinture de cette époque mais je suis tombée amoureuse de ce tableau et en ai acheté un reproduction sur le champ... noirceur, peur, horeur, écoeurement, odeurs néabonde, honte... n'a-t-on pas confié à ces sorcières des traits de caractères qui nous appartiennent et qu'on a réussi, plus ou moins bien, à oublier et enterrer?

Women (3) - gathering strength

The cage won't be shut locked
Well-trained animals go wild again
The circus is dying
You're ready
to take off your clown's mask
show your face
be real

The cage won't be shut locked
The dogs have smelt one another
They're barking sheer strength
You're ready
to fight
stand up
be loud

The cage won't be shut locked
Boats depart in wild waters
The hurrican is racing to the finish line
You're ready
to go all the way
exist
be counted

The cage won't be shut locked
The moon appears on a sunny day
Rounded and full
You're ready
to give up the shame
make yourself proud
be a woman

clairem --- 28 Dec 2006

Noël

Je sais qu'on arrive à mardi gras et que ce petit poème arrive bien en retard...


Dis-moi où est l'espoir
Sous les montagnes de paquets multicolores
Derrière les sourires forcés et emmurés

Donne-moi une raison de croire
Que tu fêtes plus que ton pouvoir d'achat
Que tu as d'autres valeurs que celles de la bûche et du foie gras


clairem --- 27 Dec 2006

Laisser partir

Ce sont toujours les écharpes préférées qui s'envolent les jours de tempête
Les colliers les plus affectionnés qui cassent les premiers
Les vidéos adorées qui s'usent à vitesse grand V
Les bons amis qui partent les premiers
Et il faut apprendre à vivre avec...

... puis sans.

Vers le retour

Plus d'une fois c'est arrivé que je m'arrête
Lasse, exténuée et emmitouflée dans des frusques empruntées
Jusqu'à me casser le nez contre un mur d'apparence inébranlable
Debout là, juste au milieu de mon chemin. J'ai eu beau chercher
Pas moyen de faire l'école buissonière
Et j'ai enfoncé le stop trop tard
La bande cassette s'est fait bouffer par une tête de lecture ayant passé l'âge

Ca faisait longtemps que ca me pendait au nez
Mais faute de temps, de moyens, de courage, de savoir faire?
Peu importe
Je n'avais cessé de remettre à plus tard
"Aller, juste une petite dernière pour la route"...

A tâtons j'ai cherché à comprendre
Un instant pleine d'espoir de savoir comment traverser
Au plus court, au plus vite, et oublier...
Le suivant frustrée, désespérée, enragée
De continuer à tourner en rond.

Les mirages se sont succédés
Les saisons chaudes et puis froides
Combien de fois suis-je repassée là-même où je m'étais cognée?
J'ai arrêté de compter...

Mais c'est drôle, le mur viellit et s'affaiblit
par endroits où j'ai pu passer du temps
assise et découragée parfois même terriblement inquiète.
La découverte forcée de ce mur
m'a enseigné toutes ses beautés cachées
Ses hontes et ses côtés ténébreux et noirs.

Je redécouvre la main de l'artiste qui l'a érigé
Moi-même
Dans des temps reculés
Où c'était une question de vie ou de mort
Comme j'ai survécu je l'avais oublié.

La cheminée fume
Les senteurs du printemps chatouillent mes narines
Il y a quelqu'un chez moi pour m'accueillir quand je viens.
Je suis sur le chemin du retour

clairem --- 13 Feb 2007

Angel and demon to the rescue?

I can hardly begin to name or understand what happened today... or do I know but am too scared to contemplate?

After four and a bit years of a close yet rather peculiar relationship he shared with me some bits of his past and of himself. Yes he'd talked about his daughter every now and then but this was so different and this time it came up so unexpectedly! I feel very confused!! His story fits so well with mine... or rather with a story that I had made mine many moons ago even though it doesn't belong to me, with a story that I'm trying real hard to fight and give back to the world where it belongs!

What happened next is interesting, too. Two voices were arguing within me, you know the angel and the demon... The demon rejoiced and listened with immense care, drinking on every single detail and feeding on each spoken word. So much better than the best ever Christmas lunch!! He kept saying to me, "Listen Claire this guy is calling for help and I can make him happy; I love him, always have and I'd do anyth..." but he was being silenced with authority by the angel, "I'm NOT a good samaritan nor a celebrity, get me out of here!" As battle raged between the two of them I had gone to being a ball in a hard-fought table-tennis game. The two opponents desperately wanted to win, masking their shots until the very last moment, gentle touch, uplifted, smashed, crashing heavily, out!!!

That's when the tears began to run down my cheeks... before getting trapped into the thickly knitted black jumper I wore. They were tears of sorrow until... a smile grew on my face without warning and a genuine laughter burst out into the wide open space before me. They had turned to being tears of joy. And the cycle started again, grieving, then celebrating, then...
It doesn't make sense, does it? Yet I could feel my heart in unison with my tears and with the little angel and demon within. The burning sensation kept expanding regardless but the quality of the fire switched from an enclosed one of mourning for a cremation to a wild bonfire in a warm summer night (I'm sure I could even hear the songs and the accompanying guitar and smell the delicious BBQ)...

Finally some quiet time appeared behind the corner and I sent away both the angel and the demon because their home is not with me. All is left is the question, "why did he choose today to talk to me about himself?" I have no answer as yet but a pounding heart in my chest.

At least I know I'm alive!


clairem --- 9 Feb 2007

Winter flavour in beautiful London

The forecast had predicted it. It fell down just as they said and the day was born in the yellow and orange glows of the lampposts reflecting into the low low sky.
London has put her white coat on and dropped into silence. The wind brushes my face as snow flakes come crashing on my forehead, find the tiny square of bare skin that escaped my attention and is not hidden under the scarff or enter my nostrils as I inhale deeply. If only I close my eyes, I'm on the slopes in the Alps, smelling the winter and listening to the snow sqeaking under my feet.

I have grown to love London more and more but such a day is the cherry on the cake. It is a wonderfully refreshing day where people acknowledge each other's presence and smile at one another as they become squashed on the overcrowded suburban trains of the rush hour.


clairem --- 7 Feb 2007

Relationships

My answering machine speaks out their messages, my inbox flashes their yet unread emails and my phone keeps playing the 4 silly notes telling me they've sent texts...

Their voices are low and sorrowful, excited, irritated, shocked, puzzled or frustrated...

They pour their stories into my ears, unfold their problems on the table next to the steaming coffees, relate their difficulties to come unstuck, burst into laughters to avoid the tears, look away in shame and guilt, cry their desire to end the misery...

They're coming to me in numbers asking for more than friendship.
They ask my support, my opinion, my insights, my advice. Some even call it counsel.

The fantastic and fascinating thing is, the deal is evenly balanced... they give as much as I do... thank you


clairem --- 7 Feb 2007

A rough diving experience

Once in Dahab to go diving, I have missed the postman coming to deliver the parcel with all my equipment and so I meaningfully prepare to spend the day lying lazily on the beach. That was without counting my dear friend...

The promise of another bright, meaningless day is short lived as she has other plans for me. Leaving the sunny beach road and its lively outdoor restaurants I follow her into narrow, dusty streets slowly diving toward down-town. I vaguely remember having been there on my way in but had never felt the need of going back to what looks such an inhospitable area of a town otherwise very peaceful indeed... My pace slows down and my steps grow shorter but my friend pulls my hand with such authority that my shoulder has no choice but to follow - and my body to clumsily run behind!! I scream when she says that it's her favorite part of town before falling into silence and obedience!

I am pleasantly surprised when we end up swimming next to one another in beautiful surroundings, paradise blue waters shinning with fishes of thousands colours and sizes. There is that special one that takes all my attention - big, unfazed by my presence, rather ugly and almost as intereted by me than I am by it... so much so that I ignore the current taking me to swirling waters... gently at first but soon enough I'm out of reach! Fear, tiredness, frustration, rage give me no rest when all I long for is fall asleep, hibernate and wake up in brighter days. I'm in for another surprise as I remain upright in these furious waters that curiously haven't taken me away from my friend. Calmness returns when I finally feel I am in no danger.

A simple look from her gives me comfort and wasn't it for her I would have most certainly given up diving.


clairem --- 3 Nov 2006/30 Jan 2007

My heart cries and heals
My heart bleeds and rejoices

But
My mind wants to know
"what should my mood be like?"
The lack of answer
Makes it angry
And crazy
And hungry!

My heart listens and waits...

clairem --- Feb 2007

The death eater

I'm not sure if this a man or a woman even though I've practiced it often...
It recently shape-shifted from familiar faces to something on its own: a shape, a feeling, an attitude, a smell, without a voice yet very loud, without a face yet very ugly, without a body yet very much here... The deal was that I let it sneak in and use my body and my voice to gather energy in exchange of what I was protected. What from, you wonder? From the world out there, of course! The thing is I'm very grateful for what it's done over the years and I wouldn't be writing these few words together now without its help but it got used to being very powerful and is rather reluctant to step down a bit.

So what? It gets enraged and I need all my strength and wits to stand up and keep my energy for myself. When it still gets hold of me, I feel very lonely, sad and useless. It is then a matter of saying "no" to it and when I do mean this "No", it shrinks as by magik... But I must be on my guards as it is back again. I believe that I'm getting the most of it but progress doesn't follow a straight line, it's got so many shapes and disguises that it tricks me...

I'm learning all the time but I feel very tired. Yet I won't give up against this "soul eater".

Le temps est maintenant

Elle a battu en retraite
Tiré la porte en sortant
Son heure de gloire derrière elle
Elle s’est fait oubliée
Un temps seulement… mais
Assez pour changer mes plans

A trop vouloir vivre dans l’avenir
J’ai fini par ignorer tout du présent
M’emmurer dans mon passé
Me mentir
M’éttoufffer

Comme prévu elle est réapparue
J’ai souri
Tendu ma main vers la sienne
Proposant une relation nouvelle
Une relation tout court
Traverser de moi à elle et d’elle à moi
Et on a entonné là, maintenant, un cœur à deux voix

Je tente de rentrer de l’avenir
Vivre au présent
Aplatir les murs de mon passé
Arrêter de mentir
Et respirer

La machine à remonter le temps s’est brisée
Et elle ne retrouve plus la clé


clairem --- 21 Jan 2007

Swirling waters

in and out but mostly in
drawn in without a say
spring back up for a few short moments
drown in the eye of the storm
think there's no return
be swallowed by the monster
and ejected out as if new



know deep inside it'll pass
there's hope and belief
the experience transforms
a second time you're prepared
a third you stand up
the fourth s/he's grown smaller
how many times to gain respect?
how many times to love who s/he is?

it is no time to lock myself in
and wait for the hurricane to pass
and pray it will not destroy me
it is time to watch its majestic spiralling
and allow its energy to penetrate me
and make it alive

clairem --- 18 Jan 2007

The end of the tunnel

The end of the tunnel is getting closer.
Strong smells of life caress my nostrils,
Shades of greys make their marks,
Deafness, blindness are slowly lifted away.

I have come back to life where she had given up.
My blood's running in her veins again.
Volcano humming after some major chaos.
Back from a long exile I finally feel home.

I will not hide escape or desert her this time.
Impatience going, wound healing, trust on its way. Time to grow up.
We'll learn to know each other.

Answer to my sadness and loneliness
Ready to let go, disappear, die.
I will speak the truth, sometime...


clairem --- 31 May 2004

L'échappée finale

Elevée dans une bulle d'amour
Tout au moins c'est le nom qu'elle lui avait donnée
Et pendant de longues années elle y a cru, nuit et jour
Tout en construisant sans bruit sa "belle" tour dorée

Jamais de coups d'éclats, jamais de colères
La vie comme "un long fleuve tranquille"
Mais quand il est parti faire sa vie, le grand frère
Elle s'est finalement échappée dans un imaginaire facile

Oh, pas d'inquiétudes! Elle a survécu
Physiquement présente, attachante, drôle et forte
Les années glissèrent sans l'atteindre, elle était absente
On ne l'y prendrait plus. Une à une elle a vérouillée toutes les portes

clairem --- 12 May 2004

C'est reparti...

Ressorties, les vieilles affaires oubliées,
Le papier resté blanc malgré les années ;
Les rideaux sont ouverts, le mobilier dépoussiéré,
Et je constate avec effroi que ma plume est bien rouillée.

Retrouvé, les souvenirs ; démarré, le décrassage
D'une imagination vivante trop longtemps tenue en cage.
Oubliée, l'angoisse de la page blanche ; noircies, les pages
Sur lesquelles j'ai tout jeté en vrac avant un meilleur asemblage.

Ils ont refait surface, ces fourmillements tant attendus,
Revanche de toutes ces années à moitié vécues.
Plume, crayon, papier et gomme savent qu'ils sont perdus
Puisque vagues, virages ou retours, il n'y aura plus.

Rêvée, l'odeur de l'encre ; réscussité, l'envie d'écrire
Et de mains tâchées de fusain et d'encre de Chine.
Alignés, enfin, tous ces mots traduisant mon plaisir,
Puisque je suis là - c'est bien moi - tout sourire.


clairem --- 17 Feb 2003

Une année est passée...

L'inconvénient d'un blog bilingue, c'est que j'ai l'impression de me répéter quand je veux faire partager dans les deux langues. L'avantage, c'est que souvent, je ne fais pas passer le même message....
Avant d'évoquer mes souhaits pour cette année naissante, j'ai ressenti le besoin de me retourner sur cette année 2006 et de prendre le temps de la revivre en quelques heure ; de reconnaître les événements qui s'y sont déroulés, qu'ils soient petits ou grands, appartenant au monde accessible à tous ou à mon monde intérieur ; de remercier les transformations qui y ont pris place ; de célébrer les découvertes, parfois dans la douleur, de morceaux de moi que j'avais si brillamment réussi à réprimer toutes ces années... Il se peut que pour nombre d'entre vous, ce genre d'exercice soit une habitude, mais pour moi, ce fut une grande première qui je l'espère m'aura permis de clore une année bien pleine et extrêmement positive au plan personnel.

Dans la section sport, Zizou nous aura privé de sa personne en prologations de la finale de la coupe du monde... à partir de maintenant, c'est : allez Titi et Trézéguet!!

Au cours de cette année, je me souviendrai des attaques à la bombe à Dahab en Egypte, une petite ville en bordure de Mer Rouge que le monde avait oublié et qui pour moi était devenue synonyme de jardin d'Eden : vivante au rythmes du soleil toujours présent et des marées quasi-inexistantes, un lieu de rencontres inconscientes. La conscience d'un monde en détresse est venue frapper ce paradis et par là-même m'en a expulsé - qu'il est dur de grandir!

2006 sera une année charnière dans la découverte de mes multiples facettes, en partie grâce à 3 jours entiers passés dans le noir complet. Cette expérience, bien qu'effrayante voire parfois paralysante, m'aura fait découvrir plus sur moi-même que les décennies précédentes.

La première année complète à danser le 5 Rhythms, un type de danse méditation venu des Etats-Unis (oui, oui, il y a aussi de bonnes choses là-bas...). Je n'ai pas assez de mots ni de temps pour dire combien cette danse à transformer ma vie. Et les mots qui s'y rapportent viennent (malheureusement!) souvent en anglais. Si je dois ne faire partager qu'une chose de cette experience, ce sera la découverte, au cours d'un atelier Heartbeat (le battement du coeur) que les émotions qui m'habitent ou m'envahissent ne m'appartiennent pas, que je n'ai pas droit de propriétés sur elles et qu'il est de mon devoir de les laisser vivre leurs propres vies. J'ai compris ce jour-là que non seulement ces émotions me donnaient leur énergie lorsque je les faisais vivre puis les laissais filer, mais que de plus, c'est elles qui me privaient de ma propre énergie lorsque je tentaient de les faire miennes en les mettant en cage...

Enfin, pour finir, mais peut-être aurais-je dû commencer par cela, 2006 restera dans ma mémoire et mon coeur comme l'année d'un fort rapprochement familial, l'année de rencontres à mon sens inégalées, où l'absence de jugement et le désir de découverte de l'autre ont primé. Je suis heureuse de faire partie de ce voyage collectif extraordinaire.

Pour l'année qui vient, qui est là, trépidente, mon souhait le plus fort est que chacun d'entre nous, êtres humains, se mette à respecter notre belle planète Terre. Que nous lui donnions autant que nous recevons d'elle, comme à ceux qu'on aime... Je crois qu'elle s'en sortira, quoi qu'il arrive dans les siècles à venir, mais ce serait chouette que notre espèce s'en sorte avec elle...
Je souhaite à tous une année 2007 pleine de bonnes choses, et que chacun puisse accepter les choses agréables et moins agréables qui surviennent au plan personnel.

Très bonne année 2007.

clairem

Change of year...

Having been in the UK for nearly 10 years (more about this shortly) I hope you'll forgive me that I still remain attached to some French traditions... One of them being that we send to loved ones our best wishes for the new year... in January. According to the tradition, we even have until January 31st - until the year isn't so new any longer... And so I have received many Christmas cards from friends to which I have not replied yet. But I will. It's a promise!!

At this time of year I felt the need to look back at 2006 and take time to remember inner and outer events, acknowledge the transformations that arose, celebrate the discovery of unknown - or rather obscure - corners of the real me... in a word take time to wrap it up properly. Some of you might have done so for a good many years but as for me it was a first.

I still feel strongly about the bomb attacks in Dahab back in April, a place I grew to love for its feeling of unconsciousness. I bet that feel might have gone now as the world has caught up with this small garden of Eden. (see Dahab, my sacred womb posted in April 2006)

I will remember 2006 as being a major year in my life, not least because I committed to spend three full days in complete darkness (see my experience of Darkness visible in full, posted on 20th Oct 2006). The experience was frightening but I learnt more about myself in those three days than I had in the first few decades of my life.

It will have been my first full years of dancing the 5 Rhythms and I am lost for words as to how much this meditation will have unlocked in my life. I guess the deepest experience (that is, if I can take only one...) came about in September during a Heartbeat workshop in London... suddenly it became cristal clear that my emotions don't belong to me, that they have their own lives to live... it was right across my face and deeply rooted in my heart that should I acknowledge them and let them go, they'd feed me of their energy. On the contrary should I try to own them and make them mine they would drain me of my own energy... Please visit the link a call to dance for more info about what the 5 Rhythms are and see emotions, emotions, emotions

France lost against Italy in the World Cup Final, Zidane being sent off for... well, you all know what for. What a shame. Allez les bleus!



Last but certainly not least, this year will remain in my heart as the beginning of a healing process in our family. Several events along the year make me believe that we are on an awesome personal and collective journey that allows us to meet and acknowledge the other for who one is, without judgement or expectation.

Now in 2007, it is time for wishes and resolutions. On my wishlist, far ahead of all others, come the desire for all of us human beings to be more respectful of our planet Earth. I believe that she will go on in the coming centuries with or without us, but I'd rather imagine it with us.
May 2007 be plentiful and may we accept and take responsibility for both the pleasant and the less pleasant of what happens in our personal lives.

Happy 2007

clairem

My life

you've sculpted a life
of sharp angles
the end product
showing so many look-alikes
uninspired
unfinished
unloved

you've used
too few tools
those you knew
how to handle
anger
resentment
victimisation

you've painted a life
of strong contrast
but you missed
too many colours
nuances
shadows
rainbows

you've used
only a paint-roller
to make it quick
without fuss
black
white
no grey areas

you've filmed a life
you said was mine
but my character
remains a stranger
unrelated
isolated
fearful

you've shaped a life
you wanted me to live
you'd only forgotten
to ask me
permission...
Not granted!

you've written a life
that wasn't mine
I am walking
out of your story
that I know
all too well
to let my dreams impregnate me

my page is blank
my words many
my colours countless
my tools varied
my character my friend

clairem --- 2 Jan 2007

Le grand voyage

Tu sais que si la nuit t'appelle
C'est pour un voyage pleins de découvertes
Et de tempêtes.
Tu sais qu'il va faire froid
Mais t'y vas quand même
Sans tes mitaines.
Tu sais que cette petite flamme incertaine
Sera aussi un jour prochain source de chaleur
Et de tes valeurs.

Ils te disent que rien ne change jamais
Que tu ferais mieux de rester au chaud près du feu ;
Ils se disent qu'après tout t'es majeure et vaccinée
Et se remettent à discuter - de tout de rien - puis iront se coucher.

Toi tu sais qu't'es pas toute seule
Parce que le terre
Porte tes pas.
Toi tu sais qu't'as pas d'doutes
Parce que tu fais la route
Par coeur.
Toi tu sais qu't'as pas peur
Parce que t'es partie
En éclaireur.

Au matin yeux bouffis et gueules de bois douloureuses
Maquillages évaporés dans des rêves avortés ;
Dans la cheminée la grisaille froide d'une chaleur morte partie en fumée
Ils se disent qu'ils ont passé une excellente soirée.

Toi tu sais qu't'as pas l'choix
Parce que les autres suivront
En temps et en heure.

clairem --- 22 Dec 2006

Women (2) - Nascent trust

Women as guides
in new landscapes

Women as mentors
in new teachings

Women as friends
in new discoveries

Women as allies
in new wisdom

Women as accomplices
in new spirits

Women as mirors
in awakened powers

Women ... Here I come

clairem --- 19 Nov 2006
(La venus endormie - Paul Devaux)

Women (1) - Soft landings

They used to be frightening,
No...
Terrifying! And bottom-less
Black-holes! And devastating
Tornadoes! And devouring
Quicksands! And solitary
Drownings! And closing-in
Spiderwebs! And deafening
Water-falls!

Until a feminine hand pulled open
The parachute, slowing the descent...

Time to see the monsters
Not so monstrous,
The savage
Not so vicious,
The villain
Not so uncivilized,
The obscene
Not so shameful,







Time to trust that I also belong in safe landings.






Birth of Venus by Sandro Botticelli, c. 1485



clairem --- 21 Nov 2006

more soon...

I've had the most amazing weekend... mindblowing experiences... for which I haven't got words yet! I know they will come some day, jump out of my mind, scream in my ear, spread on the sheet and the screen, sparkle in the dark and pour out simply, when they're ripe... to tell the wonders of being a woman amongst women, the excitment of being supported and envied, the extraordinary feeling of being entirely in the here and now, of belonging and not longing...
more soon...

emotions…
for too long bottled up, killed and buried
in the name of Romance
today painfully vomited
warm blood running through my veins
I am alive again

clairem --- 10 Nov 2004

Shall I dance?

the pause button is stuck on the old hi-fi
sounds die away leaving my ears screaming
my mouth subdued and my hands crippled

time to replace the old system whatever the costs
beats have their own rules leaving my head screaming
my legs dancing and my heart liberated

clairem --- 10 Nov 2004

My sweet daughter

You can love my sweet daughter
Of course you can love
Do marry and have children
And be happy

But
Don’t look at men in the eyes
Don’t be too spontaneous
Don’t be too attractive or seductive
Don’t be too sensual or sexual
Don’t seek pleasure

You can love my sweet daughter
Of course you can love
Do be a wife and a mother

But
Don’t be a woman

clairem --- 1 Nov 2006

Let's meet downtown

She said, Let’s meet in dusty downtown
That’s where the fun is
Behind closed doors, hidden
She said, I can play the piano on your back
And the drum on your buttocks.
Strip naked and follow my instincts

She said, We’re going to the moon
And she took me underground
Trust me, I know the way”.

She said, Let my fingers be your eyes
So that you can watch in the most awesome darkness
The colourful rainbows of imagination
Your back arching and your hips raised
Your rounded belly full with desire
Your legs apart introducing your pink shiny Yoni

She said, Let my fingers be your hands
So that you can feel the most pleasurable places
The ladder of your curved spine
Your nipples sticking out hard on swollen islands of softness
Your belly shivering under the pressure of crazy caged butterflies
The dense maze of your thick pubic hair protecting your secret

She said, Let my fingers be your ears
So that you can listen to the most pounding sounds
The chanting rhythm of your heartbeat and crescendo desire of your breathing
The rustle of the crisp clean sheet as you rise on your feet and shoulders
The overflowing drip of the fountain hidden behind your labia
Your throat that lets out the most instinctual and natural scream

She said, Let my fingers be your nostrils
So that you can smell the most arousing smells
The sweet and sour sweat of your armpits
Your delicious and beloved intimate fertility
The fully grown feminine energy
Of your tenderly enchanted, and offered, Yoni

She said, Let my fingers be your mouth
So that you can taste the sweetest tastes of all
Your belly’s skin screaming, “I’m here!”
The full bodied tongue in your mouth
Your nipples’ desire to be devoured
The creamy cascade raining between your legs

She said, Let my fingers be your heart
So that you can feel alive

clairem --- 7 Nov 2006

Ma prison dorée

La cage de verre s’est soudain refermée sur son bourreau.
La terre a tremblé. Elle s’est arrêtée. Et sur les carreaux
Les années et les heures continuent à venir s’écraser
Comme un mystère – pour m’épargner ?
Tels les éclairs il ne reste aucune trace
Elles vont, elles viennent, elles passent
Prélude d’une atmosphère où la détresse s’entasse
A découvert, mais je ne veux pas voir et garde les yeux fermés.

Ma tour de verre est ma prison dorée
Ne tentez pas de m’y déranger
Ceux qui sont venus m’y chercher
S’y sont cassés le nez !

J’ai peur des courants d’eau, des courants d’air.
Je me suis calfeutrée et mise à hiberner. Je me terre
Les rivières de mes larmes ont séché
Juste à temps ! Je ne sais pas nager.
A toutes les portes j’ai mis des clés
Un tour, deux tours… ha ! Tout le monde est enfermé !
Maintenant que la mécanique est bien huilée
Il n’y a plus de hoquet, seulement une harmonie sucrée.

Ma tour de verre est ma prison dorée
Mais je ne cesse d’être dérangée
Quelques vagues de chaleur de passage
Je continue à me faire avoir par ces mirages !

Toutes les clés se mettent à saigner en même temps
Un tour, deux tours… Est-ce l’arrivée du printemps ?
Une monstresse d’une douloureuse beauté
Se force un passage parmi mes souvenirs enterrés
Et fait voler en éclat ma prison dorée.
Le temps m’a rattrapé et me force à regarder
En face une grande solitude longtemps accumulée
La déesse est en déshabillé et m’invite à l’aimer.

clairem --- 15 Oct 2006

Diving into the new game

Sadness
Fear
Grief
Laughter
And countless others
Keep playing seek and hide
Jump, push and disappear
Dance, swing
What a mess!
OUT – OUT - OUT

The body looses its balance.
I need a rest.
Gentle wind
Exploding volcano
Filled up puddle
My mind goes round and round and round
… I give up.

They’re careless though.
They’ve left clues.
Time to track them down.
Time to play detective.

Even if I don’t know the rules
Even if I don’t know the words
I hear some whispers.
Feel
Love
Patience
Receive
Let go
OK - OK – OK

My mind looses its balance.
I need a rest.
Judgmental policeman
Naive sleeping beauty
Cheating trickster
My body goes quiet, tired and numb
… I give up.

Time to rise up to the challenge
Mind versus Body
That’s the name of the game
And only two winners will do.

clairem --- 19 oct 2003

Inspiration

The cruel letter-box
Breeds only anguish from being vacant.
The malevolent telephone
Brings only grief from remaining silent.

Ink dried-up making my words still-born.
Connections gone loose between heart and hand.
Still I scribble on this page, saying nothing.
How disappointing!

Al, you promised…
Terry, you said …
Oliver, you offered…

I lose my footing in a swirling black hole.
Seconds, days and months go unfazed
I can’t swim and slowly drown…

clairem --- end of 1990

Dieu @ 16

A 16 ans, j’avais rencontré Dieu.
Pour ne retrouver qu’un homme à 32.
Quelle déception !

De trois ans mon aîné,
Il m’avait choisi
Pour l’accompagner.

J’ai adoré jouer à la déesse
Comme on joue à la poupée.
Mais dans une naïve erreur de jeunesse,
J’ai fini par m’y identifier.

Fatalement le jour est venu
Où ma plus belle robe a été volée.
Je me suis retrouvée abandonnée, toute nue
Et sans mémoire de qui j’étais.

A 16 ans, j’avais rencontré Dieu.
Pour ne retrouver qu’un homme à 32.
Quelle leçon !

clairem --- 2003/2006

Darkness Visible

As a child, I was terrified of climbing up to the second floor of my parents’ house to go to bed. Each approaching night brought me more vivid imaginary yet real visions that I was going to be devoured alive by sly crocodiles and alligators faking to be asleep and hiding under my bed. I knew they were only waiting for me. I would not turn the light on so as not to give myself away and would make a giant leap, crash on the bed and curl up under the blanket. Safe, at last!! During those same years with my siblings, we took in turn to buy fresh milk direct from the farm nearby. In the winter months, I can’t remember one time when my 10 minutes walk didn’t get filled with thieves running by and taking my money, scary men jumping out of the bushes in front of me or monsters cutting me into pieces… but those were nothing compared to my belief that weren’t I to come back home no one would have noticed before my body had gone cold. Twenty-odd years later, I can add that I would have rather died than acknowledge those fears…

So imagine the feeling of fear when I tasted salty waters running down my cheeks and I heard myself voice a prayer as I made the conscious choice to enter the world of Darkness, “Spirit of Darkness, please welcome me into your world. I’m making the leap into the unknown and I’m terrified of being lonely”. Ouchhhh… My initiation unveiled a privileged relationship with other body-parts as they became exposed, celebrated and stroked with immense gentleness… My head, the ruler of 30 years or so of my life. My throat, as I am finding my own voice. My belly, swollen container of the repressed, forgotten and unknown emotions. My belly-button, permanent reminder of the very first wound, the eternal scar of the very first separation and death from the sacred link to the mother. My hands, last body-parts linking the world of light with that of darkness as they cover my eyes of the thick blindfold, by then my only friend and enemy. My hands, last pieces of a whole allowing my experience to be shared for the outer world through the writing of my story, my truth seeping through the walls of my heart and branching out into words…

As my hands put in place the blindfold, my biggest fear turns very real and I begin to die.

I dive. Deep, deeper, and deeper and deeper still. I carry too heavy a weight belt. I have no desire to stabilise my descent or my depth. I am unwilling to reach buoyancy, as I watch up the coral-bushes shining dark above me against the sun and the strong light of the ocean surface grow further and further away. Shhhhh… I can hear something… A silent chant bypasses my ears and talks directly to my brain, “I know what’s best for you, keep yourself to yourself and I’ll look after you…” I am spellbound and accept this request blindly. Whether far away or close by the siren’s chant whispers how courageous I am, how much I am the centre of attention, the only place I owe to be. She is so proud of me… so proud in fact that surely my buddies and I are playing in a different league! Soon I find no reason to try to reach out to them. I am so much more advanced, I have already gone places! Quietly she makes me shut the door and turn the light off for good… I am in the world of darkness and blessed.

“But, hang on, who are you?” Another voice coming from nowhere and as if hiding from me tries to be welcoming my buddies, one after another, once they have been initiated into the world of darkness. What an annoyance! I push her aside and keep her quiet!! All the while the siren keeps chanting and she is utterly disinclined to accept anyone entering her new world: only heroes need apply! I am diving real deep and I just know that I am able to observe a world that surely is not accessible to any of them!! I accept her terms and conditions and have no other desire than to follow her into the always greater depth of her world, into her hidden castle.

As the visibility increases when alone and in silence curled up on my bed - my refuge - I slowly grow younger - and colder. Soon enough I seek warmth and curl up under the blanket, when… “what’s happening!?! Has someone changed the mix of air in my tanks?” The narcosis wanes off slowly and the headache begins to creep in under my scalp… I recognise the settings of the siren’s home, the dark corners, the empty rooms, the naked cement walls, the austere silence, the absent neighbours, the always raised draw-bridge… Physically and spiritually, I am dispirited because I have followed my siren’s friend into a world that I know all too well and that I don’t like. But I know there is no escape, as the feeling of security is overpowering. Physically and spiritually I am terrified because I don’t trust the very one person I thought I could rely on… She makes sure she keeps me on my toes and starts questioning the experience itself and criticising me, “what are you doing wrong that you can’t see in the darkness?”, “You’re not good enough”, “not focused enough”, “not ready for it”, “your intents aren’t clear enough to have good dreams”, “was it worth the price you paid?”, “you’re missing the point”…”surely the others are gaining much more from the experience than you do”… Without warning I had just fallen from the chosen one, the princess, the bride to the dump of the earth. The old days of dictatorship had returned because I had happily signed in at the bottom of the contract without reading it!! The most beautiful siren’s voice had turned to the sour and bitchy voice of the witch.

When the annoying voice from nowhere creeps in again I feel it is too late. She’s now dying for a hug but the siren calls loud and clear, “we’ve done well together in the past, we can do it together again, we don’t need anyone. If you stay with me I’ll take care of you so that no one hurts you”. I had my chance. I know I had my chance to welcome her in but I pushed her away. There is no one else than myself to blame. And so the voice from nowhere is kept outside the walled city, the armoured body, the mother’s womb, the parent’s house, Dahab… I try to fight my deep instinctual mistrust of the siren and to raise rational arguments to make her fall. I can only watch my brain firing blank and see myself lose battle after battle. The weak voice from nowhere craves from human contacts yet they’re experienced with disgust. Yet, just as she thinks she’s won the war and I give up the fight, a flash of light comes through my blindfold, soon followed by more of the same until I come to recognise that it is here to stay. A strong and white sunshine forces through my eyelids, too. There’s no more hiding anywhere. There’s no more safe refuge. The coat of fear is quickly sweetened by warmth and hope and compassion brought to a woman gone into despair.

The spellbinding chant turned judgement is suddenly taken over by a silent outburst leaving no possible confusion, “what if love was NOT about suffering?” “What if receiving love was NOT conditioned by sadness, illness or pain?” “What if accepting love was NOT about signing a contract to give it all back?” The voice coming from nowhere can now be located. No need for GPS or satellites, I feel it in my burning heart in my chest, pounding harder and faster and bringing in fresh air into my tanks. Soon her joy is palpable as I resurface and she engages in a new battle with the siren bringing in a new set of rules: love, softness, compassion, gentleness enter the scene. There’s no string attached and no payback time…

The untrustworthy human’s hand resting on my shoulder and deep voice whispering in my ear, “are you ok?”, “you’re doing well” suddenly becomes bliss - The jealousy of being one of many turns to the thankfulness of being one of many - I am unique and required in our circle – I reach out to my buddies and love them and I feel genuinely loved, too - The need to be seen as the chosen one vanishes as the voice of my heart speaks of love – My heart adds on the icing on the cake: she is a core of authentic, non judgmental and non-restricted love within that I couldn’t even imagine existed.

I have not seen beautifully enamelled cathedrals, creepy entrances to grottos nor heard wolves on the distant hill but my journey into the Spirit of Darkness has handed me the most valuable gift; at the very centre of a beautifully formed female body sits a heart very much alive, overflowing with love and growing.

As my hands take off the blindfold and the clothes, and splash cold water from the stream onto my warmed skin I begin to live.

clairem --- 19 Oct 2006

Rhythm is everything

hands
caressing the page
fingers
trembling with desire
they find their feet…
--------------------- an enormous boost
--------------------- after too long a wait
--------------------- a lay off injured

hands
smelling the ink
fingers
pouring out the words
they’re ready to go…
--------------------- a connection to the heart
--------------------- after too long a wait
--------------------- a major repair

hands
enjoying carelessness
fingers
laughing with life
they set the speed…
---------------------- a magical composition
---------------------- after too long a wait
---------------------- a death experience

hands are free
fingers grateful
they know.
Rhythm is everything.
---------------------- and today…
---------------------- the sportsman’s allowed back from a nasty injury
---------------------- the instrument’s allowed back to his loving musician
---------------------- the creativity’s allowed back to the humble artist


clairem --- 11 Oct 2006

End of lies

You've said lies before
You've hidden the truth
For my own good you said
Or else
To spare me
Now I'm asking you
And I want the truth
Of what exactly?

Don't, don't, don't lie to me
I can tell
Just the way you stand
It is so clear I wonder
Are you really trying to convince me?

Speak with your heart
Voice the neither good nor bad
Explain not your love
Let it overflow
Make it real
I need to be touched
If you feel like a fool
That's the only way to win me over

Don't, don't, don't lie to me
I can tell
Just the way you look
It is so clear I wonder
Are you really trying to convince me?

Bienvenue à la mort qui donne la vie

Ma mère est morte
Enfin, en quelque sorte
Dans mes yeux, aucune larme
Mais un assourdissant vacarme

Ma mère est morte
Je lui ai prêté main forte
A cause de son infirmité
Je ne pouvais m’échapper

Ma mère est morte
Un couteau dans l’aorte
Pour tuer sa religion
Et son manque d’émotions

Jouer la comédie, prétendre, se vendre… AU DIABLE !
Accepter la vie ou aller se pendre !
Jouer les martyrs, trahir, obéir, mentir… ASSEZ, ASSEZ !
Il est temps de se réjouir et de s’épanouir !

Les dés sont lancés
Ma mère est née
Ni juge, ni partie
Je me sens bien lotie

Les dés sont lancés
Ma mère est née
Renaissant de ses cendres
Avec un vrai cœur tendre

Les dés sont lancés
Ma mère est née
Elle est harmonie et paix
Elle reste à mon chevet

clairem --- 15 Jan 2006

Elasticity

Thanks and let go
I'll give you a hug and you can go
I was cristal glass
I'm now flexible.
Good night.

clairem --- 5 Mar 2006

Knock Knock Knock

Knock Knock Knock
Who’s that?
Life’s at the door, 8 o’clock
You woke me up
I shall come back.

Knock Knock Knock
Who’s that?
Life’s at the door, 9 o’clock
Too early, not ready
I shall come back.

Knock Knock Knock
Who’s that?
Life’s at the door, 10 o’clock
Sounds and smells tempting
I shall wait for you.

Knock Knock Knock
Who’s that?
Life’s at the door, 11 o’clock
Colours and trust sneak in
I shall stay put.

Knock Knock Knock
Who’s that?
Life’s at the door, 12 o’clock
Feet planted on the ground
You shall come with me

clairem --- 6 Apr 2006

Yes, No, Maybe ... not

Yes
I can.
But
I won't.
Too much pain.
"See? I do it alone
Will you love me now?"

No
I can't.
And
I won't.
Too much hurt.
"See? I'm strong
Will you love me now?"

Enough!
Enough!

I call
for help.
Love.
"See? I'm hurt
Will you hold me now?
Will you let me cry?"

clairem --- 9 Aug 2006

Shame

girl - - - get it off your chest

- - - - - - cry it

- - - - - - caugh it

- - - - - - shout it

- - - - - - and - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - dance it

girl - - - let it undo its ties

- - - - - - weaken

- - - - - - crawl

- - - - - - beg

- - - - - - and - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - expire - - - - - die

girl - - - feel it surface in the open

- - - - - - fear

- - - - - - anger

- - - - - - hope

- - - - - - and - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - compassion

girl - - - explore the full nothingness

- - - - - - hard softness

- - - - - - bright darkness

- - - - - - yelling silence

- - - - - - and - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - empty space

girl - - - celebrate the birth of new life

- - - - - - look its coming

- - - - - - hear its whispering

- - - - - - smell its wetness

- - - - - - taste its rawness

- - - - - - touch its nakedness

- - - - - - and - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - own it - - - - - very simply

clairem --- 20 Sept 2006

Emotions, emotions, emotions, emotions, emotions...

We have the chance to experience emotions, lots of them, and yet what do we do with them? Is it true that as we grow up we quickly learn to express them in a way acceptable for the masses, that is, contained and restrained… at least for those numerous ones that hold a negative stigma?... Is it true that in so doing, we only keep them locked up and they become parts of us that we grow to love or hate?... Tonight, let me share a formidable discovery as I have uncovered not only their place of exile in my body but a way to retrieve them and set them free… that is, if I can unlock the doors and trust that my body is always right in movement.

Let me tell you my shock as I acknowledged, received, met and dialogued with the emotions in flowing; as I observed them arise and discovered their boundaries; let me tell you my confusion as I celebrated them and recognised them for what they are – alive, ever-changing and free… Let me portray my respect to them and to Mother Earth as I felt reunited to Her through them – or is it the other way around?
Imagine them as they expand, take their shapes and draw clear and defined lines in staccato, drive changes in my breathing and open my heart as they follow the beat - in/out… in/out… Watch their growing desire to be pushed out, to be given away to the world where they belong; hear them whisper, sing or shout in my ear, “Look at me, Hello, this is me, I exist, I am alive and I want to be free, you do not own me!”
Feel the heat as comes the time of chaos, when you’re left standing outside the eye of the storm; witness them powerlessly as they take control and their overwhelming spell explode into a volcanic eruption… Be patient and prepared for the follow-up…
Look out for those emotions that now run and live on air... and, welcome to lyrical where the newly shaped landscapes of emotions may seem desolated but hold a promise of new beginnings; where terrifying despair and grief of having lost part of oneself meets tremendous hope for better pastures; where warm tears meet genuine laughter;
Let me reveal my admiration as recognised my beautiful cells, organs and body in stillness, as I wished farewell to the emotions that didn’t serve me any longer; let me finish my tale as reconnect to mother Earth and celebrate with softness and gentleness new open spaces, far too long hidden behind locked shutters and doors.

I know I will encounter more of the same emotions over and over again … Let’s hope they will journey through my cells at a quicker pace and I will set them free over and over again; let’s hope I will not get a sense of attachment or property over them; let’s hope the prisons’ keys are lost forever.

Let’s hope I learn to transform the free and powerful energy they hold into a strong creative force.

Clairem ---- 11/09/2006