[stylist] Sharing one of the Conversations from theTeacherseries
Jacqueline Williams
jackieleepoet at cox.net
Sat Jun 2 19:43:07 UTC 2012
Lynda,
This is a moving response to Myrna's conversation, which I have not yet
gotten to.
I opened your website and read your blog about the butterflies. It truly
explains to me the title of your website. Your inner visions are very
powerful. I also re-read your blog on how to read a poem, and pondered it a
second time. Would that we were all quick studies on interpreting poetry. If
we are not, should we therefore never risk a critique? Some people say, "in
my opinion," because they realize they might not have a valid or compatible
one or are insecure in saying anything. Perhaps it is not necessary to
respond to critique until you can feel less annoyed by it. I say this only
because, once on this list I gave a negative response to a piece of writing,
and felt almost reprimanded for it. After pondering it, I felt I deserved it
and had to learn much more about saying everything in a positive manner and
trying to avoid feelings about content. It takes time to learn the
sensitivities entering a new group.
My group of about a dozen poets have been together about ten years with some
of course new, and some leaving. We are far past being offended at anything,
and in fact, grab on to each suggestion and thoroughly explore it.
What a way to lead up to saying, I think it is wonderful that you blog about
so many things that are thought provokers, as Robert also does.
You keep us all alive and digging into our thoughts.
Jackie
-----Original Message-----
From: stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org [mailto:stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org] On
Behalf Of Lynda Lambert
Sent: Friday, June 01, 2012 7:17 AM
To: Writer's Division Mailing List
Subject: Re: [stylist] Sharinhg one of the Conversations from
theTeacherseries
Myrna,
Your story here is so inspiring to me. After I read it and wrote my
comments, that led me to write an article for my blog. I just finished it. I
put some photos with it - I found a photo of two butterflies that are very
red, the color of the ones I had seen in my vision. I do not remember ever
seeing such large and RED butterflies in my life as the ones I saw in the
vision that day.
I also found a photo of red butterflies in movement - showing the flight
pattern - so amazing. And, then, I put two photos of my daughter. One shows
her last month at an art gallery with one of her precious art works, the
other shows her wearing her SURVIVOR t-shirt - very proudly - and this photo
is a new one, too.
I do believe that God sends us the things we need, just when we need them
and it can be an a completely unexpected time and place, but for sure, it is
always on time.
Your piece brought me back to that day in January 2008, and as I read your
words, I was right there again in the ICU of the hospital with my daughter
again. And, that is what inspired writing does, it brings the reader to the
place in their own experiences where the memories are stored. We connect
with the words we are reading. That is what writing is all about, after all.
OH, here is what I wrote today:
http://www.walkingbyinnervision.blogspot.com
I had started this blog as a way of healing myself from the anxieties of
sight loss, and for sharing my journey with others along the way. I am just
passing it all along, because it has been given to me in abundance. Life!
Lynda River Woman
----- Original Message -----
From: <KajunCutie926 at aol.com>
To: <stylist at nfbnet.org>
Sent: Friday, June 01, 2012 9:19 AM
Subject: Re: [stylist] Sharinhg one of the Conversations from the
Teacherseries
> Lynda, what a truly inspiring story about your daughter. Thank you for
> sharing that.
>
> And thank you so much for your kind words on this piece. My conversation
> was inspired by a moment observed between my late husband and one of my
> granddaughters. She would often ask me about them and, even at the age
> of
> almost 3, seemed to understand that Maw couldn't see them. So she went
> to her
> grandfather and I was able to capture this moment. When I wrote this
> piece she was near eight years old and I just slipped that two year old's
> innocence into the words.
>
> I have had extremely limited vision my entire life but I was also
> fortunate enough to have two older brothers who shared this with me
> though the
> origins of our sight loss were a bit different. Not only were they my
> mentors
> as I grew up but they also helped to make sure that I was always treated
> like 'just another one of the kids' instead of the blind little sister
> or
> cousin or niece. I was blessed, truly blessed.
>
> Myrna
>
>
>
>
> In a message dated 6/1/2012 7:57:43 A.M. Central Daylight Time,
> llambert at zoominternet.net writes:
>
>
> This is an inspired writing, Myrna. There is so much more to a butterfly
> than just the beauty of them flying about on a spring day in a field os
> bright flowers.
>
> Here is why I really responded to your attached work.
>
> The image of the butterfly here brought back a memory for me. It was 4
> 1/2
> years ago, and I had just lost most of my sight. I had not yet had any
> help,
> and did not yet know there was such a thing as any kind of technologies
> that
> would help me, nor did I yet know of rehabilitation for the blind. I had
> no
> white cane, and no way of doing just about anything I had done just a
> couple
> months before.
>
> It was at this very time that my second daughter, Heidi, was diagnosed
> with
> ovarian cancer. Now, I stood at her bedside in the IC unit in a Pittsburg
> h,
> PA hospital. Her surgery to remove the tumor that had spread to a stage
> 3C
> cancer was completed a few days before. But nothing had gone well, and
> within a couple of days she was near death. They had put her in an
> induced
> coma to try to give her sick lungs the opportunity to begin to heal.
> Day after day, it was one step down after another.
>
> Even though I could not see very much, I was staying at the hospital day
> and
> night. I could find my way from the waiting room, to the bathroom, and to
> my
> daughter's room. I slept for short periods during the night, sitting in a
> chair in the waiting room of the IC unit. Then, I would walk back to her
> room, to sit by her bedside.
>
> She was kept in a coma for over 2 weeks. Nurses and doctors were at her
> side
> or directly outside her room working on the moniters and computers
> continuously, monitoring her, searching for the right mix of drugs to
> help
> her. We waited there in limbo as the days went by. There was nothing we
> could do but pray and wait. Family members came and went, all helpless.
>
> One afternoon I sat in the chair at the bottom of her bed with my eyes
> focused on her laying there with tubes and apparatus all over her body.
> The
> hospital staff had named Heidi, The Sleeping Princess. On this afternoon,
> the Sleeping Princess had two unexpected visitors. They did not come in
> through the door.
>
> As I watched Heidi, two enormous butterflies were there. They emerged
> from
> the base of her feet and they fluttered back and forth, playing with each
> other as butterflies do when you see them in a field. The two butterflies
> were a deep red crimson and they were the size of my hand. They were
> bright
> and very large. As I watched them, it was the most normal scene I could
> ever
> have seen. Heidi's body was the field over which they were zig-zagging
> back
> and forth over as they moved towards her head. It seemd like I watched
> them
> for quite awhile, but I believe it was probably only seconds. It was like
> an
> eternal moment, when time did not exist, and I had been a witness to
> timelessness.
>
> The butterflies made themselves visable to me. They gave me new hope for
> my
> daughter. I knew they were the Holy Spirit, made visable. I recognized
> that
> the Holy Spirit had come to visit the Sleeping Princess that afternoon
> and
> that this would be the afternoon when Heidi would begin to recover. I was
> assured at that moment when I saw this vision that my daughter would heal
> and that she had experienced a miracle.
>
> Today, Heidi remains free of ovarian cancer, even though the tests done
> in
> surgery had shown that the cancer cells were throughout her entire body.
> She
> undergoes tests and scans all the time in Pittsburgh. She has an
> entourage
> of doctors who are keeping a close watch on her. She has side effects
> from
> her surgery and her long recovery time. Her body remembers the trauma,
> and
> her body is still responding to it. Our bodies carry memories, and those
> memories in the entire body continue to have a response to the trauma it
> went through.
>
> Heidi is an artist who has a studio on a mountain top, in the woods of
> Pennsylvania. She actively works at her art, and is in exhibitions
> including
> an internationl invitation one that her work is in right now.
>
> Shortly after she recoverd, she organized The Sleeping Princess Team
> with
> her friends. The team raises money for the Ovarian Cancer Coalition of
> Pittsburgh. This is the fifth year that the team and Heidi's family will
> walk with her at the Walk to Break the Silence in the fall. Our little
> team
> has been able to raise over $20,000. in funds to contribute to the cause.
>
> Yes, butterflies are harbingers of renewal and transformation, and
> healing.
> They are a reflection of the Creator and come to bring us joy and
> healing.
>
> Lynda River Woman
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
> ----- Original Message -----
> From: <KajunCutie926 at aol.com>
> To: <stylist at nfbnet.org>
> Sent: Friday, June 01, 2012 7:27 AM
> Subject: [stylist] Sharinhg one of the Conversations from the Teacher
> series
>
>
>>I have decided to use two sections when compiling the Teacher series,
>> Lessons and Conversation. This is an example of what might be found in
>> the
>> Conversations section, inspired by my granddaughter. It is also
>> attached. I
>> am slowly catching up to email as it has been an unexpectedly hectic
>> few
>> days here but I am now reading all Stylist mail, finally.
>>
>> Innocence and Butterflies
>>
>>
>> He watches the child from a safe distance, not wishing to disturb or
>> intrude upon the moment. A butterfly has captured her attention,
>> mesmerizing
>> her, making her oblivious to all but the flutter of wing, the dance of
>> color
>> across a flawless sky.
>>
>> He sketches to memory the innocence, the wistful joy, and intrigued
>> imagination etched on the child's face, sparkling within her eyes. If
> only
>> innocence could last forever, he muses.
>>
>> 'Sir, why did the Creator make butterflies?' the girl's softly asked
>> question breaks the silence.
>>
>> The man thinks for a moment, watching the winged beauty, before he
> speaks.
>> 'The butterfly is like a flying gardener, little one, for it helps to
>> bring
>> us flowers and fruit. If we watch them carefully they can tell us how
>> healthy nature is. And I think they remind us that what may seem
> fragile
>> and
>> easily broken often has an inner strength we sometimes overlook.'
>>
>> As if on cue the butterfly flits away onto a new journey and the girl's
>> eyes shadow slightly but then she smiles. 'I suppose you're right but I
>> think
>> it's more than that.'
>>
>> 'And just what do you think it might be?' he asks.
>>
>> 'I think the Creator just wants us to see that even an ugly old
>> caterpillar
>> can fool you!' The girl grins and skips away in search of another
>> adventure.
>>
>> The man is left in stunned silence and swears he hears the Creator
>> chuckle,
>> 'Indeed!'
>>
>>
>
>
>
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
> ----
>
>
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