Luxuries

written during Healers/Therapists monthly group, December 5, 2012

The longer I am sitting here the longer the list grows.  Feeling a burdensome heaviness, I watch the sunrise above the crest of naked trees. The cold wind blowing sticklike remnants of brown leafy remains, I think of more tasks to complete; walk the dog, dust the house, rake the fallen leaves, fold the laundry.  On and on it goes, the list growing until I start to insert the things I want to spend my time doing; swim, write, yoga, music.  

The dreams push the obligations aside and soon I find myself smiling, feeling lighter, looking for balance in my task-driven existence.  The guilt starts knocking at my serene door.  I open it a crack and tell it to “fuck off.”  I want this moment to dream, to plan, to enjoy and escape from the driving, nagging world I have trapped myself into.  And in the end there will be no hangover.  I lift my pen and drag it across the page, removing the first item from my list; writing.  A luxury and a necessity, I inhale  deeply. —Cynthia

a (Raw) response to a confessional call for wisdom

written during monthly Healers/Therapists Group on Nov 7, 2012

Dear Writing Group,

 

After receiving your letters this morning I found myself feeling so grateful that each of you is in the world.

 

I don't believe it's a coincidence that, in submitting your letters of concern, you each wrote about that most important of human experiences: your relationships.

 

One of you is launching your only child into the world of possible bullies and mistreatment, and one of you is launching your only child into a new family through marriage. I am touched that, whether entering kindergarten or marriage, your children's relationships are what draw your concern. How do they handle new in-laws or pushy kids on the playground? You are willing to be there and help them sort it out. That's what counts.

 

One of you holds the concerns and challenges of a divided country within your own marriage. That cannot be easy and at times it might feel like civil war. Yet your recognition that you love each other and both want it to work better is a great place to start. Do you recognize that in finding ways to bridge your differences you could be helping a whole wounded nation begin to heal?

 

As far as worries about the future go, trust the relationships that you are building right now to sustain those you love. Play hard with your grandkids. Be available, in the present moment, to your grown children. Share. Enjoy beauty, community, fun, kindness, humor. In carrying forward this gift of relationship your children and grandchildren will be best prepared for whatever comes. And they'll know what to give their grandchildren.

 

And you'll all live on, as relationships truly built on love, always do.

 

My very best to the four of you, and to all those touched by your deep caring, now and forward,

 

Soothsayer

(Brier M)

 

A (raw) Response Write after workshopping

rawly written Friday November 16, 2012

Lurking

It’s always lurking.  There in the doctor’s office, under the hi-tech medical equipment designed to discover it.  To bring it out into full light and now exposed to poison and radiate it.

It’s always lurking.   In the blood.  The rush and retreat.  The pulsating rhythm.  Not enough white cells.  Not enough red cells.  Not enough.  Not enough. 

It’s always lurking. Smirking as a diagnosis is given.  Do you know what that is?  Laughing at the shock of a short prognosis.  Do you know what that means?

It’s always lurking.   In the shaking hands, the flinching facial muscles, the shuffling gait.  I’m gaining on you.  It won’t be long now.  I’m catching up.

It’s always lurking.  In a moment, in a lifetime.  In a dark desolate corner, in a too bright exam room.  Ready to pounce.  Ready to claim.  Lurking as it waits for the kill.

—Cindy J Kaiser

What are you most grateful for, right here, right now?

Recently Grateful

Text Msg:

“Do you have dinner plans?”

“I’m still in St Paul.  Here till 6.  Still interested?

“Yes.  Gonna grab a shower.  Pbly 20 min.  Call when  ur home.  BLB or Grande Café?

“Grande Café.  It’s cozier.”

Voice Message:

“Honey, I miss you.  It’s been too long.  Please give me a call this morning.  I need to hear your voice.”

Meeting:

It’s a shock, I know.  Everything you’re feeling, sadness, anger, fear, confusion, all valid.  I encourage you to take a deep breath – don’t do anything in the heat of the moment.  You all offer unique skills and have deep knowledge.  This unknown is a hard place to be, and all I can promise is, and you have my word, you will know when I know.

Concert:

The call for Bruce, echoes through the convention center, culminating and sounding like Booooo  Boooooo.

He quiets the crowd, brings down the lights, and invites the ghosts of those we love to come and be with us.

He sings My City of Ruin and moves into Rise Up.  And we do.

Invitation:

Come be with us for Thanksgiving!  Please!  Come with us to Beth’s family’s Thanksgiving. 

I agree to go – I know better than to turn down a Thanksgiving invitation from a chef.

Text Msg #2:

“Sean loves the recliner!  Thank you for thinking of us.”

A medical recliner leaves my living room and the spirit of my home, my heart, is lighter.

Standing Gathering:

Friday morning.  Every Friday morning in South Minneapolis, heat, snow, pouring rain, we gather on the corner of 50^th and Xerxes.  We pull out paper.  We check-in with each other.  And we write.  Raw write.  Together.  I wonder how the energy around me at this table moves my pen.  I’m not sure how, but I know it does.  And that is enough.  I need nothing more on Friday morning.

—Cindy J Kaiser

Raw ONE

 #1

this was done at home by one of my Wednesday Writers. (Raw can also be attempted at home.)

October 8, 2012

And I read some old words, words of not having anxiety,

and I read and feel that this is right, that then I was on

the crest of the wave, seeing sun and blue sky, and now

I am in the hollow of the wave, in the dark mystery of water,

and this is right, and inevitably the wave rises, and falls,

the rhythm of life has both freedom and ease,

and the burdens of anxiety, and this is the way it is,

and it is not bad, or good, it is the wholeness

of the rhythm of life and if right now

I am in anxiety, that is well and good, and the time

will come again, when the anxiety recedes

almost disappears, but never completely

just as the joy and happiness and calm

never completely disappears.

preciousqueentheodoraIII

What is RAW Writing?

       

raw lily

raw reaching tree; letter w

    RAW adjective         a. Being in a natural condition; not processed or refined     b. Not finished, covered, or coated     c. Not having been subjected to adjustment, treatment, or analyzed.                   d. Outspoken; crude: a raw portrayal of truth.
                                                                                                                 e. Powerfully impressive; stark;                                 raw beauty; raw talent.                                 f.  Nude; naked.

                              

raw trees in forest; letter v; letters l;letter u

RAW WRITING verb        1. an organic writing process that translates the human experience of heart, mind, body directly onto the page, unedited.   2. noun written arrangement by pen, crayon, pencil, sand, keyboard, etc created through the human body, released by the human hand, typically, but not limited to.   

Rox with her writing (writing with Rox)
RAW WRITING WITH ROX verb; syn; Intuitive Writing; Flow Writing; Heart Writing; Spontaneous Writing; Out-of-your-head Writing 1. writing in community; writing together in a group setting. 2. Process of writing raw stories, poems, memoirs, essays, recipes, to-do lists, etc on the spot and witnessing and sharing the raw beauty of what we've just written and heard. 3. noun  what is done with Rox at the Beach, The Loft, anywhere you are or want to learn with Rox about this amazing process.

writing with Rox at the Beach

RAW WRITING WITH ROX BLOGSPOT proper noun; 1. here, now. this place. 2. a place for your raw writing. 3. A cyber place where students and friends new and old of Writing with Rox can post raw writing from current or past classes, retreats, groups, prompts, etc, while writing with Rox or raw writing on one's own.

RAW WRITING SAMPLE (PART ONE)                                     

Yesterday in therapy I sat down with a foggy brain and said "I just don't know today." I just don't know. I told her I was sleep logged which happens only once in a very blue moon since i never get much sleep at all, but I said I just don't know.

"We don't have to do anything," she said.

That's funny, I said, because I was wondering if we could do some kundalini yoga together...or...

Did you hear what I said? she said, "We don't have to do anything."

Fancy that. Fancy that.

I'm just not feeling very...I'm foggy, I said. It's the perimenopause, the adrenal fatigue...

What is foggy she asked, "describe foggy."

I did.

Huh, she said. That's beautiful.

So there we sat with my fog and my content doing nothing. Not thinking. Not feeling. Just sitting. In the fog.

lotii raw

raw early moon