Do you see what I feel?

PE.Harrell-Sanders_DoYouSee

Do You See What I Feel by Dana Harrell-Sanders

When I talked about you last night

it was just to write a verse.

It was fiction. No big deal! alright?

 

Why the constant striking

must there be so much throbbing

with such vengeance my way?

I was only kidding yesterday.

 

I didn’t mean anything by the poetry.

Please remove the heavy artillery!

Lower the mega equipment

Please take out the iron fists

that push, pound and torment,

beating incessantly

invoking indignation

imposing impatiently

seeking retribution

but for what?!

 

Have some compassion

let’s call it a truce

give me a meagre portion

of amnesty

please believe

I’ll never complain…

grant me some reprieve

to relieve this pain.

cease this unremitting beating

nonstop on this poor form of ail

it hurts just to breathe

I wince when I inhale

my plea is humble and pure

Please, please, JUST stop!

© Cheryl-Lynn 2014/02/10

Le `tit vieux du Manoir Merveilleux

Source: Pinterest

#FWF Free Write Friday: Image Prompt

Season 2, Week 6, Dungeon Prompts this week, Purpose and the Art of Holding Back 

Le `tit vieux du Château Merveilleux
Le `Tit vieux était si mal compris et sérieux
allons voir ce qui se passe dans son milieux
Ah! vous ne saviez pas qu’il était si généreux.
Écoutez! voici une histoire d’un homme merveilleux
Je vais vous présenter monsieur Elphège Vielleux.

*************

Maître  Elphège Veilleux died suddenly. He was a recently retired corporate lawyer. The village were mourning such a generous and wise man. He was only sixty-two.  They say he had an aneurism. That is supposed to be quick death…not too much suffering except, of course, for the survivors. What a shock! Such sadness and harrowing grief due to this unexpected ending!

A few days following the funeral,  Notaire Bergeron requested the presence of Iréné Veilleux,  the only son of Elphège. He was 33 years old and still never worked a day in his life. He had been kicked out of 5 private schools, 2 universities and had been in and out of 8 detox centres.  He was currently trying to fight the battle with his heroin addiction.  He thought to himself, if he can settle his father`s estate soon enough, he had good intentions to get into a private clinic in Magog, La Façon d’être.  He had spoken to his father about this last month. “If only he were still alive to see him succeed…IF only he could this time.”

The appointment of the reading of his father`s will was two o`clock and Iréné arrived just a few minutes early.  The receptionist offered him a cup of coffee and led him to the board room. Iréné was confused. “Why must the meeting be in such a big room when he was the only beneficiary?”

He took a place near the head of the long oval cherry wood table. He heard people arriving at the front of the office and looked towards the mahogany doors curiously.  The double doors opened and he was surprised to see so many people in the waiting room.

Madame Champagne, the village librarian, monsieur Desrosier, the accountant, mademoiselle  Gagnon, the head nurse at La Maison Renaud and monsieur Pierre Antoine Colbert but everyone called him PaCo, the former groundskeeper of Elphège Veilleux`s estate. He lived in the cottage behind le manoir.  Iréné was a bit surprised to see PaCo arrive.  He was in his late fifties but he had not aged well; arthritis had ravaged his body.  He had been with Elphège since he was a child. His mother was Elphège`s gouvernante and raised PaCo in the old carriage house.  There had always been an understanding that Paco could stay in his humble but comfortable loft for as long as he wished.  He was a bit of an enigma to most here.  No one knew where he went every afternoon returning at twilight.

His stride was shaky, shuffling towards the nearest chair, he was the first seated and the others all took a seat.  Monsieur le notaire took his place and advised he had very little to say, “Monsieur Veilleux has recorded his last Will and Testament on this video, a copy is in all your envelopes along with necessary supporting documents as well.  Allons-y…”

The video commenced: Monsieur Veilleux is seated in the carriage house in an overstuffed arm chair…

“Bonjour mes chers amis…mon fils, Iréné. Comme vous voyez…I am a humble man.  I was born in a privileged environment with little needs but those who know me well, I have always worked hard. I love this village and if you are viewing this video, I have already taken off to new territories; hopefully I will be joining ma belle et douce Alys; perhaps I will also meet with maman et papa  who taught me to respect nature and human dignity. I have tried to do both.  The orchard is not as vibrant as it was but it has managed well enough to offer work to many in the village.  For that I am pleased.

During the ice storm several years ago, I was fortunate enough having 3 generators and welcomed many of you wonderful people in my home.  What a learning experience mother nature offered me.   That entire month co-habitating under difficult climatic circumstances was a turning point for me. You were privileged in one sense, being in college outside the triangle that got hit from this ice storm.  I had forged closer relations with some of you who are here today.  For that I thank you. Merci mes chers amis…you have blessed me with a gift that is priceless …the gift of purpose.

Voici, mon cher fils, I want to offer you this wonderful opportunity…you have no idea how enrichissant it feels to have such a blessing and here is my offering to you with love and hope that you grow with this dowry.

Iréné, you have struggled since the death of Alys, ta charmante maman; you were so young.  A boy at eleven still needs the love and comfort of sa maman. Since then you left me, your family, your friends and followed your own path and got lost along the way. I only hope you are here, present, as my friends are viewing this last discourse I share with you.

Sometimes when a person is lost in obscurity he finds himself in the clutches of des esprits douteux.  For you, it has been the spirits of the mind that robbed your will. You did not know that addiction was the poison of your forefathers.  Alas, yes, and this poisonous concoction disguised as a healing cocktail turns into a possessive demon…who robbed me of my son and deprived you of living.  I know you have suffered and still ache, mon fils.

I am turning le Manoir Merveilleux into a halfway house for men and women recovering from addiction.  I have more space than I have ever required and since the ice storm I have been exploring opportunities to develop my purpose in the days remaining in my life. I have visited Le Virage and la Maison Foster and mademoiselle Gagnon has helped me in this research, educated me more on the wrath of addictions and the long rehabilitation required to remain sober.  I never realized how difficult this could be. I always assumed you did not have enough willpower or that I had spoiled you too much and somehow I had enabled you.  Pardonne-moi, mon fils, I was so ignorant.

I learned that many font des rechutes, relapses as well. So I asked my friends to explore this more for me. Madame Champagne headed the research.  We found that when a person who had the support of loving friends and family,  had more chances in succeeding but what seemed to be a stronger influence was having a sense of purpose.  The strongest motivator seemed to be purpose…un raison d’être was key to maintaining sobriety.  Perhaps it is not the only source of success but I am willing to wager it may be what the doctor ordered for you, mon fils.

Paco will be the Clinical Director.

Iréné gasped and almost spilled his coffee on his lap. The villagers listened but did not seem as shocked by this announcement.  Paco lowered his eyes and stared at his hands waiting for his childhood friend to finish his discourse. He was saddened by this great loss…a brother in so many ways and his confidant.

“Paco has a PhD in psychology as you may not have known and has been the psychologist at the Cowansville Correctional Insititute for the past 25 years working the evening shift;  in 1998 I asked him if he would consider getting his certification in addictions and I am pleased he seemed as interested in this field of study as I did.

Paco is a humble man, Iréné. Do not judge him by his modest living and scruffy attire. He wears the same outdoor garb when chopping wood or raking the leaves, that belonged to his father who died not long after your mother passed.    He says it brings him closer to his father`s spirit.  He maintains the grounds at his insistence for he says it frees his spirit and feeds his mind. We already have students who come regularly to maintain the grounds who are part of another programme I have set up for aspiring college students. When they complete their high school, I will cover their tuition fees IF they succeed in their studies for a total of 6 years. Education is a free pass to life, my son.

Paco has always lived in the carriage house where he was raised and it is with great humility he accepted to take his place in le Manoir.  The carriage house is being refurbished and all latest digital instruments helpful in pursing post-secondary studies will be installed along with updated furnishings.  This will be your new home, Iréné, once you return from La Façon d’être. I am hoping you will try one more time…giving sobriety a chance.

When you return, you will have access to an addiction counsellor and group support in le Manoir anytime.  You will be given a list of chores you are required to do as all the residents do at this new halfway house.  Once you have completed your term here, you will have access to the carriage house as your new home for as long as you wish.   I have set aside funding for you to eventually return to academia.  The mind is a precious gift one must not waste…you are privileged in so many ways, mon fils. I hope you will benefit from this opportunity.

I have one stipulation for you, mon fils, if you wish to continue receiving the monthly allowance from your trust fund, you must volunteer a minimum of 10 hours a month in a non-profit agency that offers support to children, youths, men, women or  families in need. Once you find your “calling” PaCo and mademoiselle Gagnon must approve the organization and will be your advisor/mentor along this rich journey.

I will always be with you, mon fils, in love and spirit.”

© Cheryl-Lynn, 2014/02/08

**********************************************

I started writing a story about this prompted image and along the way another prompt from Dungeon Prompts this week, Purpose and the Art of Holding Back  was on my mind and it slipped into the theme of this story.  I thought to myself, Well, that is sort of cheating, isn’t it?  But I don’t write many narratives or poems on this blog and I thought this would be an appropriate contribution. I hope you enjoyed it, Cheryl-Lynn.

Carpe Diem #393, Kumadaniji (Temple 8)

A lovely history of bodhisattva of compassion and 2 touching poems (haiku and tanka)

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I usually don’t copy but link to the Carpe Diem stories which inspire the haiku I write for this blog, but this one particularly interested me because recently I happened to speak to a good friend of mine of the bodhisattva of compassion.

Guanyin or Senju Kannon in Japanese is the bodhisattva associated with compassion as venerated by East Asian Buddhists, usually as a female. The name Guanyin is short for Guanshiyin, which means “Observing the Sounds (or Cries) of the World”. She is also sometimes referred to as Guanyin. Some Buddhists believe that when one of their adherents departs from this world, they are placed by Guanyin in the heart of a lotus, and then sent to the western pure land of Sukhāvatī.”

Haiku

compassionate heart
listening – understanding
stopping the stigma

Tanka

along your pathway
where to turn in troubled times
she is waiting there
a calm compassionate…

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Ms Calm and Ms Anxiety

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Penny Calm came in the diner
one cold snowy Friday
ordered a cuppa camomile
and the soup of the day;
sipping her herbal tea
lost in thought totally
she waited patiently
for Ms. Sue Anxiety.

Sue arrived in such a state
trembling and rambling
about why she was so late
“A loser on the interstate
slowed me up a long time
twenty cars were tailing in line!”
she ranted and she raved,
an order of soup she then gave
with a double Cappuccino.

“No wonder she’s so nervous”
thought her friend, Penny Calm,
“drinking cappuccino all day long.
If only she changed her diet,
her nerves might soon be quiet
and not be so distressed.”

“Now, now, Sue, calm down a bit,
let’s just enjoy our visit.
We have so much to share
Now tell me, how you are?”
Sue Anxiety , no time to spare
she complained all afternoon
’bout this and that and not aware
the impact of  her attitude
had managed to stir Penny
no longer was she calm, rather
started to panic, hyperventilate.
she had to use her inhaler
to calm her breathing rate.

By the end of the day, Sue Anxiety seemed much calmer
“This was such a great idea, to meet and spend the day
Talking and getting things off my chest I feel so much better.”
Penny Calm just stared at Sue, not sure what she should say
and left the diner, saying, “Don’t call me, I’ll call you.”

And so the story goes that Penny Calm never
did call Sue Anxiety, and calmly lived forever.

© Cheryl-Lynn, 2014/02/06

A chat with impatience

Photo: Cheryl-Lynn 2013
Photo: Cheryl-Lynn 2013

Patience:  Why are you so antsy right now? We’ll get there stop fretting!

Impatience: I want everything to be just right, to be perfect, the best EVER!  I have an important presentation to give. I want the students to feel good about this lecture.

Patience:  Whoa! you don’t have any control of the outcome really, you know.

Impatience: Why do you say that? You just want to rain on my parade.

Patience: I am sorry my words upset you but the truth is you ARE great and I am sure that things will turn out fine BUT you have no control of the reaction of your audience.

Impatience: I don’t want to hear you! Stop it! We are wasting time…just drive already so we can get there on time.

Patience: Okay, I’m going as fast as I can.

Impatience: No, you’re not! You are driving like an old lady!! Pass that Versa ahead of you…can’t you see he’s holding up traffic. Everyone is passing that car but YOU.  Put on your flasher and cut to the left lane…hurry, there is a little spot…go go go!!

Patience:   I don’t have to pass this driver …look the exit is just up ahead, we are turning off anyway. Stop worrying…relax…

Impatience: How can I relax when you are driving like a 90 year old man!

Patience: Well, actually if I were 90 years old and able to still drive, I would be quite proud to still have my driver’s permit. {chuckles} And if I were 90 what would that make you…heh heh! one hundred and two?!!! {snicker}

Impatience: {laughs nervously}  Okay, point taken.

Patience: why don’t you take out your presentation and go over your notes…that may help to ground you…be in the moment.

Impatience:  Oh, alright…can I recite my lines to you?  That may help…

Patience: Sure, that would be lovely…do I have to clap at certain parts? {grins}

Impatience:  No, now stop making a mockery out of this! {sigh!!} Do you want to help or not?!

Patience: Of course…I’m listening

Impatience: Good afternoon, my name is….{recites the introduction then gets to question period}

Patience: Ooooh oooooh!! I have a question? 

Impatience: Yes, what is it?

Patience:  So, I have a friend who has been self-harming lately because he gets soooo impatient and frustrated with his life, he says that he has started to do that. Who do people hurt themselves?

Impatience:  Wow! That is a good question by the way. Some people sometimes cope with emotional problems by unhealthy means.

Patience: Why would someone choose a bad way to cope on purpose?

Impatience: Well, they don’t know it’s bad necessarily or good, they just do it because it sometimes helps to calm them…ease that huge tension they feel inside and it may calm down for a few minutes or hours.

Patience: Oh, really? I had no idea.  So can it stop…I am pretty worried for my friend.

Impatience: If your friend is open to try something else, it can eventually stop but it takes work and effort on her part too.  It can’t always be easy…for some it is like an addiction…you know.

Patience: Yes, yes, I get it now.  Wow!  You know, you are such a different person when we are not concentrating on my driving. I can’t get over how patiently you just answered my questions there. I mean it…thanks.

Impatience: Well, it’s my job, silly…I like what I do…so it’s easy to be more understanding and patient. Now step on it, will you, or the light will turn red!!! Go, go, go, go….

© Cheryl-Lynn, 2014/02/04

Prompt 41 – Consuming Impatience

This prompt was to write about Consumed Impatience.  I find we are sometimes “consumed” with impatience under certain situations in our live.  Some may be more impatient than others and perhaps that can be due to anxiety, anger management (that too can be due to other mental health conditions such as depression), worry and lack of self-confidence for example.  I am sure there are many other reasons why someone may lose patience.  And then there are some who have an abundance of patience…they seem to take things in their stride. What a gift!  Here is ONE example on how “impatience” can play out and “patience” can resume in the life of that same person.

Chocolate Cream Cups : Friday Night Party! Do you want to join the wagon?

I love this blog soooooooo much. She not only gives recipes, she makes it “dummy proof” with the photos to make sure we can actually succeed!! Love love love her blog…check it out and her photography as well!!

Slumber’s Guest

Angels-13

Can’t wait to get to sleep
dream, dream and unwind
this time when I wake up
will look forward, try to find
in the middle of the night
I won’t reach for my phone
checking time left for rest
rather write down a few words
try recalling at my best
conjure up from my dreams
slumber’s much delightful guest,
stories telling what I deem
excellent stories…fantasies
just amazing tales to keep
every night in my sleep…

Yep, can’t wait to slip away
and see the stories unfold
all night long imagining
stories needing to be told.

I adore some of my dreams
love to wander, float away…
on a dreamlike getaway
like a nomad that will stray
journeys most internally
learning more just how …to be,
letting go finally
finding space to just… BE.

© Cheryl-Lynn, 2014/01/31

Wonders of my life

Photo: Cheryl-Lynn Dec 2013, Montreal
Photo: Cheryl-Lynn Dec 2013, Montreal

The first snowfall
every year
brings the child
in me so near.

When a rainbow
tails the rain
makes me gasp
just can’t refrain.

My first crush
I still remember
and it still
gives me a rush;

My first kiss
from my true love
memories of erotic bliss
how I fail to forget,
my first pleasures
of the flesh
warms my skin
as I still blush.

The first stirrings
in my womb
makes my heart
flip and flop
feeling joy
wrapped with wonder;
baby boy
in my arms
suckling on my breast,
baby girl
in my embrace
next to my son
who’s grown so much
such a wonder…all of this!

soaking up those first smiles,
first words, first steps,
sheer wonder all of this
absolutely total bliss!

Rediscovering nature
in its delight
through the eyes
of my children
giving me a second chance
to embrace life again,
showing reverence
to Mother Earth.

Then the splendor
music offers
making magic
my son plays
on those bronze
copper strings;
watch in wonder;
when daughter
sings soprano
like an angle
in her choir
feel in awe
every  hour.

Watch the birth
of my grandson
cut the cord of life as well
how my heart OH! did it swell!
wept with joy
to see this boy.

Every sunset…
every dawn
brings such wonder
so serene
I’ve been blessed
ten thousand times
and still counting
I’m so thankful
such sheer wonders
I have seen.

 

© Cheryl-Lynn, January 27, 2014

Prompt 40, Sheer Wonder

Wolf Girl (haibun)

My contribution to this great prompt at Free Write Friday. Thank you Kellie.

trust[4]

A short Narrative

Wolf Girl

Erik Boone Art

They called her the Wolf girl at the hospital on the psych ward. No one had been able to approach her …much. She was like a wild animal. If you came too close to her, she would howl; if she was hungry she would stand at your table, looking at your tray with the most appealing eyes, no one could refuse her. The staff was curious about her but all, without exception, fell in love with her especially when she would curl up into a ball in the fetus position on the centre of her bed…thumb in mouth, lights ON. If ever a staff member felt pity for anyone sleeping with those bright neon lights and turned it off in her room, she would sit up, howling, eyes wide-eyed holding on to her blanket for dear life.

Her name was Torey.  Child services brought her in 3 months ago to Emergency for a check up and after examination by doctors as well as the psycho-educator in chief, they assumed she would get her discharge no later than 3 days (which was customary in “those” cases). But she never got that release and Dr. Shelley, the Psycho-Educator in chief would not release her. She had a different reason at each court hearing…this last one was selective mutism, and that this youth was sexually assaulted multiple times for years. Torey was 11 by now but what the hell did  “multiple times for years”even mean?  Dr. Shelley just knew that this child should NOT be placed in foster care without guarantees she would be safe.   The system had failed her in the past when this child had put her trust in adults who should have kept her safe.  Dr. Shelley knew there are NO such guarantees.  She  took it upon herself to make sure she remain the ward of the court and in the children’s psychiatric ward indefinitely.  She had hope that some day soon, she just may make a breakthrough. Torey may decide to talk.

It was December 24th, 3 and a half months since Torey’s admission, and she was in her daily interview with Dr. Shelley. This therapist had a unique approach with youths, those with selective mutism.  Her past 10 years experience working solely with teens who had autism spectrum had given her a new skill…EEP.  Her colleagues, mostly professors at the local university scoffed at her when she said it was actually a skill that had to be learned with working with “exceptional” youths.  EEL stands for Exceptional Empathetic Listening skills.  Dr. Shelley had a knack of drawing out the most difficult and resistant child into trusting her enough to start talking…even if it was one hour a day, that was a miracle in many cases she had worked on.

Torey was different. She was brilliant. She had a way of knowing what adults were thinking and what they needed. This is how they discovered her exceptional talent or sixth sense.

One day, Nurse Grant, who had worked on the pediatric ward on the psychiatric section for 20 years,  walked on the floor with a limp wearing tinted glasses.  Staff all inquired with sympathy what had happened to her over the weekend and she just  brushed them off with a, “Ah just clumsy old me bumped into the glass bus shelter. With the darn sleet and snow mingled, I could not see an inch in front of me and I banged the corner of my left eye and slipped and sprained my ankle. Enough said, no need for pity from anyone, so I got these glasses to avoid your mushy sad looks. Now ya’ll get to work!”  She did have a bit of a bark and everyone went back to work. No one asked her again and most avoided looking at her in the eye…or rather, glasses…except for Torey.  She looked at her suspiciously, sucking her thumb. She circled around her looking up at her and raised her eyebrow.

Then she followed Nurse Grant into the nurse’s lobby and sat right next to her on the couch while she sipped her coffee. Torey looked up and did the most surreal thing…she spoke! “He gave it to you, didn’t he?” she said  in a raspy voice. Nurse Grant almost spilled her coffee and looked at Torey wide eye, in shock.

“What you talkin’ about young lady?!” and Torey did not balk…did not feel intimidated one bit. She just looked up at her this time with compassion, and puppy dog eyes and gave Nurse Grant a hug, whispering in her ear, “I know what them do to you.”

Nurse Grant just savoured this moment because she had a feeling that Torey did, in fact, know.

Later that afternoon, Dr. Shelley was advised about Torey’s first spoken words in private by Dr. Shelley who had to come clean of her own personal circumstances.  Dr. Shelley, called in Torey and asked her, “Well, now, Torey. You certainly gave us a bit of a surprise today and I have to say a very nice surprise. I want to thank you.”  Torey had arrived arms crossed, ready to keep her silence but was cut off guard when Dr. Shelley was thanking her.  She dropped her arms to her side and raised an eyebrow and waited…she was the prize of detectives…she had to know for sure…

Trust no one ever!
Exceptional listening.
Suitable moments.

Dr. Shelley continued, “Torey, Nurse Grant has been in a dratted abusive relationship for years and no one but no one has ever had the courage to confront her and plead with her to get out and to safer environment. Today, Nurse Grant came up to me asking to live in the nurses quarters for the night staff temporarily until she found a new apartment. So I want to thank you for doing something not one counsellor, nurse, doctor or psychologist was able to do until you did.”

Torey stared at her sizing what he had just heard, and took her usual seat in front of Dr. Shelly’s arm chair and said, “Yeah, well, it’s about time she left that f…..g loser. She deserves better.”

That was the first session Torey felt she could trust Dr. Shelley and started disclosing the sexual abuse she was exposed to by her father from the age of 7 to 10 and the abuse in foster car the months following her removal from her home.

Trust has to be earned…Torey was not fool enough to trust just anyone…she knew who could be trusted and she chose to speak to Nurse Grant because she saw peer…a soldier in the fight against abuse  in her…as for Dr. Shelley, well, gosh, Torey, knew she had EEL, she was just waiting for the right moment to feel she could actually trust her.

© Cheryl-Lynn, January 27, 2014

I don’t believe in the word “regret”

Learning by doing is how I learn best and sometimes I just done wrong but I still learned.