: an inexplicable or mysterious transmuting
We were all in a circle and the attention was on me. I was a mess. Head down, hair covering my face, hands catching the uncontrollable tears. Arms tightly hugging my knees. And then Isis gave all of the five other women in the Waking the Seed group (drumroll please....)
She handed out some computer paper and everyone gathered whatever they had available..a marker, pencil, red ball-point pen..
They had to draw me.
What??? I managed to lift up my head and find some words. You can’t draw me looking like this! I look horrible!!!Nobody can see me like this!
Nobody except all of the women who were right there in front of me.
That was it. I was exposed. I did not want to be seen, I wanted to hide. I mean, I couldn’t even look at myself.
But I let them.
And I was transformed.
Soon my tears turned into laughter, acceptance, awe and most of all a feeling of being held in a safe place. I loved the drawings they all did of me because they were heartfelt, honest and captured something about me..a part of me that I was not able to see for myself. They looked into and beyond the upset I showed on the outside and expressed a deeper awareness or knowing that I was not able to access at the time. It was in allowing myself to be in this vulnerable position that I was able to then be opened to and feel not only the love and the sincerity of these amazing women but to turn around my feelings of despair and seriously question some of my personal limiting beliefs.
So what was I to do next? Isis said to alchemize the initial pain I felt and start drawing others.
Huh? I didn’t understand what she meant. What do you mean alchemize? To me alchemy was medieval chemistry..a glass vial with smoke and bubbles coming out..But I did understand her saying “take the pain and transform it” And I also understood how sometimes the hardest thing to do for yourself is the one thing that might make you feel better. And I realized that if these women could draw me in the state I was in, if they could do it, then I could definitely try and pick up my own pencil, regardless of how long it had been since I had done any artwork, and draw others. I was so afraid of being rusty, of having lost my skills, of being nervous that whatever I drew the person would not like. And judge me. I was, for certain, my very own worst critic.
I decided to ask my friends to sit for me. It was a perfect way to reconnect to drawing safely, despite my nervousness and despite my fears. It was also a win-win because I was able to be social outside of motherhood and have conversations with people I hadn’t seen in a while.
Like a caterpillar wrapped up in its coccoon, slowly making its way out..I had no idea what I was about to do, what was about to emerge, and what direction I was about to fly off into.
But I did it.
My daughter was just turning one. And I was just turning a corner.