WRITERS WORKSHOP 8/29/11

Sisters – by Bonnie

My sister Sue – she died of cancer.
My sister Darlene – she’s loving life.
My sister Joyce – she makes me laugh.
My sister Kathy – is my friend.
My sister Keri – is my friend too.
My sister Sue – I’ve known four years.
My sister Lore – she teaches me.
My sister Nancy – my auntie too.
My sister Billi Jo – my family sister.
My sister Debbie – I will never forget.
My sister Gwen – she calls me Mom now.

My sisters are my friends.
They’re my strength to carry on.
My guiding light.

My sister Klara, my sister Pat -they keep my day going on and hopes for a better future.
Karen, Nancy and Carol too.
My sister Sonya – is my stepdaughter too.
My sister Maggie – she is my Mom.
My sister Sarah – my guidance through the darkest hours.

They hold my hands all through life when I stray.
They put me back on that path, I do not get lost, but when I am they come and find me.

I have many sisters.

WRITERS WORKSHOP 8/15/11

A Memorable Trip  – by Laura

In the spring of 1972 my sister, brother-in-law, 2 year old nephew, mother and I took a trip to the White Mountains in New Hampshire.  We were all feeling excited when we packed our cooler and picnic basket into the van and took our seats.  It was a beautiful sunny morning when we set out and we had a list of what we wanted to see.  The top of Mt. Washington, the old man of the mountain, and the flume for floating logs down the mountain’s side topped the list.  After 2 or more hours, we arrived at our destination.  First we stopped at a lake that the old man of the mountain looks out over but a huge fog bank totally obscured the view.  We stood there a good hour but the fog didn’t move an inch.  Scratch that off the list.  Next we tried to find the flume.  We drove over mountains and through valleys and apparently took a wrong turn on the Kanga Mangus highway and ended up on the wrong side of the mountain.  We scratched item no 2 off the list.  Frustrated but undaunted, we headed for Mt Washington.  When we reached the bottom, the road was closed.  We didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.  We tore up our list and threw it in the trash.  Well. We still had a picnic lunch to enjoy. We parked on a scenic outlook and were going to take the cooler and basket out of the van when it started to snow.  So we ate in the van in the midst of a blizzard!  Murphy’s law was alive and well that day.  We laughed about it all the way home and in spite of the disappointments it was one of the best trips we ever took.

WRITERS WORKSHOP 6/20

The Greatest Gift I Know – by Laura

The greatest gift I know of is the gift of language, both written and spoken.  My own language, English, is, or at least can be, absolutely beautiful when used correctly. It has so many nuances and shades and possibilities that one would be hard pressed to run out of eloquent ways to express oneself.  Whether in a poem or essay, a song or a novel, words can flow like a brook in a meadow reaching for an ocean of meaning in this sometimes chaotic and confusing world.  Yet so many people, especially the young, abuse the privilege of being able to speak and write.  It saddens me to hear the horrible profanity that comes from the mouths of teenagers and young adults and I wonder what they’re being taught in schools these days.  In my day a lot of emphasis was put on learning good language skills as a key to being successful in life.  Whenever I hear a group of young people talking today I wish I had a stack of dictionaries to pass out to them with the suggestion they study them to learn how language can be used in a heartfelt and soul touching way.  Maybe if people learned to communicate better there would be fewer conflicts between people and countries and fewer wars.  Maybe schools should turn off their computers and open up grammar text books.  it would open up a new and more human world.

WRITERS WORKSHOP 6/6

If I Could Write a Book or Play   - by Laura

If I wrote a play it would be about a woman struggling with mental illness.  I would show her as a person first, not as a case number in a computer.  There are many misconceptions about mental illness and people who have it.  Mental illness does NOT mean mental retardation and adults who have it are treated as such.  Patients in psychiatric wards should NOT be locked up like criminals and denied their human and civil rights.  The majority of people with mental illness are no more violent or dangerous than any other people and so called “normal” people don’t need to be protected from us.  My plan would end with the woman finding compassion, understanding, treatment that actually helps and finally acceptance by family, friends and society at large.  After all, isn’t that what we all want?

WRITERS WORKSHOP 5/9/11

My Imaginary Garden  -by Laura

“Mary, Mary quite contrary” is the beginning of a children’s poem about a magical garden, but my garden would not have “cockle shells and silver bells and pretty maids all in a row.”  Instead it would be more like a miniature forest with dwarf pine and maple trees no more than four beet tall.  Under the trees would be tiny thatched-roofed cottages and living in those little huts would be living lawn gnomes no more than six inches tall.  They would wear brightly colored clothes and matching, pointed hats and shoes.  I’d watch them planting gardens of vegetables and flowers and trimming their miniscule apple and pear trees.  There would be a tailor’s shop, a cobbler’s shop, a school and a meeting hall where the little people could get together to discuss community business.  In the evening they would sit around tiny campfires singing songs and telling stories and I would join in the fun.  I would keep their existence a complete secret to protect my wee friends from prying eyes and possible exploitation.  My little world would be a refuge where I would know peace and contentment in my sometimes troubled and disappointing life.

If I Could Be Anyone – by Sue

I am free and proud to be me.  I am enjoying my life being single, I have no one to tell me what to do, trying to control my life.  I get up when I want, eat wheat I want, go where I want to go, to bed when I want.  I will never allow another man to tell me what to do.  Thank God for Divorces!

WRITERS WORKSHOP 5/2/11

How I Get Up In The Morning

I get up very carefully because when I wake up I usually have at least one cat asleep on me.  And another by my legs.  They act like it’s a chore to get up and move so I can get up and move.  Usually in a hurry to go to the potty.  And the four of my cats are looking at me like “What is your problem Mom?”  Then after if I try to go and lay back down, they are all over my bed.  So I end up staying up instead of shooing the brats off and trying to get my sleep!  – by Judy

I watch the local news that has happened during the night, get dressed and have breakfast and do the daily routines that need to be done.   -by Nancy

I Am Glad the Center is Here    

I’m glad the Center is here. It gives me someplace to go and when I come here I feel loved and people are glad to see me.  I geel I am somebody.  I love doing the crafts and scapbooking.  I love all the workers.  I come here 2-3 times a week.  – by Sue

I am glad the Center is here because I have gotten to meet so many nice people that I feel are my family.   – by Nancy

THE HEART TRUTH

Alisa (L) and Tasha (R) our two nursing student interns on their last day this semester.

ED NOTE:  We had two wonderful student nurses with us every Thursday this year.  They did blood pressure and weight checks, consulted about meds and general health questions.  Both women fit right in and made a huge contribution. They will be away this summer and return in the fall.  We will miss them! This is an guest blog entry from their experience here.

A couple of weeks ago, Alisa and I held a class on cardiac health for the women at the center. The truth in holding the class posed some challenges since our main objective was two-fold: honor the mission and atmosphere of the site while providing information. Needless to say, there were many women in attendance and it was whole-heartedly a success. Foremost, we hoped to create an atmosphere of listening, responding, facilitating, and respect for health (whatever that definition meant to each individual). What became apparent as the discussion unfolded was that the women themselves were incredible sources of accurate information. Of the women in attendance, almost everyone had some personal experience with heart disease and/or heart attack. The class took on a life of its own, women were sharing stories, giving examples of ways they had coped with their health, and providing support to each other. Overall, Alisa and I realized that our role in the class was to underscore most of the information the women already had. Specifically, we tried to focus on why heart attacks are relevant to women, risk factors, ways to modify the risks, and clarifying misinformation.

The Heart Truth class offered us an opportunity to expand our role. Over the semester we had been trying to build trust with the center’s community. What this class solidified was that we had (on some level) made some headway. Our presence and consistency had built some trust and acceptance of us within their community. The truly delightful part of the experience for me was looking around and realizing we were allowed to be part of their discussion. After leaving the class I spent time reflecting about the event and came away with one personal revelation: I finally understood and witnessed the mission of the center. You can talk about trust, listening, community building, internal resources, and presence until you are blue in the face. It is a wholly different experience to be “within it”. Although I am sure that the women gained clarity from our discussion I walked away changed by the experience. It is one I will continue to reflect on as I progress in my nursing career.

-Tasha Z.

WRITERS WORKSHOP 4/4/11

Ed. Note: Each Monday morning, over real coffee and marvelous morning munchies, a group gathers to write.  They pick a topic and write for 10 minutes, then read each other what they wrote and give positive feedback to each other.  These weekly postings are offered from members of that group.

Something That Really Annoys Me – Laura Starbird

Something that really annoys me is snow in April.  It should be a time of green grass and the first spring flowers, of bird song and newly opened leaves on the trees.  But this year Mother Nature played an April fools joke on us by sending us a snow storm on April 1.  About six inches of heavy, wet snow blanketed the ground and put ermine coats on all the trees and bushes and power lines.  Disgusting! Still, there is a kind of beauty in a fresh coat of clean show covering the brown vegetation from last fall, but my heart longs to see, touch and smell new life and a new beginning.  But this is Maine, where Winter never gives up without a fight.  Sometimes a fight to the bitter end, as the old saying goes.  I know Spring always wins in the end and I’m counting the days until it happens.  Hurry, Spring!

WRITERS WORKSHOP 3/28/11

My Favorite Animal -Kathy W

At the moment, Rascal is my favorite animal.  She likes getting on my left shoulder.  Purr, purr, purr.  She goes to James for goodies.  When he rattles the bag she comes running.  She likes to play with straws and mild bottle caps.  She has a favorite toy mouse.  And she like to sleep on her back all sprawled out.  She like to corner of my pillow.  She likes to play with Jingles’ tail.  Sometimes its OK but sometimes it isn’t.  She’s awfully independent.  When I make the bed she likes to help me.  She greets me at the door when I come home.  I bought her a pink bunny, but sh doesn’t play with it.  Maybe she’s waiting for Easter.  She’s the first cat I ever had of my own.  James said “God gave you your wish, Kathy!”

Not Your Puppet on a String… – Judy Smith

I am me…

That is all I can be…

All that you see…

Is all I can be…

So you tool…

I am not your fool…

I have no strings for you to pull…

No strings to make me sing and dance…

I am not here for you to poke or prod…

I am not here to be your little clod…

I am not a puppet for you to enjoy…

I am nobody’s little toy…

So if this is not your thing…

Don’t worry, I am not your puppet on a string…

 

WRITERS WORKSHOP 3/21/11

The First Paragraph of My Life Story...

- by Laura Starbird

My life didn’t begin when I was delivered by emergency C-section after my mother hemorrhaged while scrubbing floors.  It didn’t begin when I started kindergarten and had my first full-blown panic episode when my mother tried to leave me there.  My school years were not a beginning either because of constant harrassment from other students and even some of the teachers until I left at sixteen because I couldn’t take it anymore.  No, my life began in my thirties when I admitted to myself I have mental illness, from both physiological and psychological factors and sought out the help I desperately needed.  With the help of therapists and years of treatment I gradually grew and learned and started to become the person I was perhaps meant to be.  Today I live alone with minimal fear.  I come to the Center for Wisdom’s Women several times a week to take part in activities I enjoy, activities that allow me to use my natural abilities to create and achieve things I never thought I could.  Several months ago I started volunteering at the animal shelter, a long time dream of mine.  I love caring for the animals and watching them be adopted by loving, new pet parents.  It gives me a feeling of having a purpose in life and a reason to get up in the morning.  I’m no longer young but not old either.  But maybe I’m finally coming into my own as a person and I cherish it.