The Body is the Book the Soul Writes
nervous and cagey---wandering the inner labyrinth of her dreams.
the prison of her own making is screaming....the dismantling has begun.
with
tenderness, she is grateful, she is in awe. the protection the body
provided for her soul and its experience here is remarkable.
and so, we look at the body
the book
the soul
Coco
is bright eyed, empathic, feels everything and everyone. she cries
easily and cannot watch Lassie, Flipper or Bambi----needs the
distraction of dancing. she is a gold-digger at heart and a flapper in a
past life. the smell of honeysuckle makes her heart sing and her mind
wander and wonder. she smells like dirt and sweat....her parents have
neglected to teach her how to
bathe in a way that feels good and thorough. her voice is certain
recognizable- she is the emcee at her kindergarten graduation. when she
has a microphone in front of her or better yet, when she is on
stage...there is no time - it all falls away. she opens her mouth and
words, songs, jokes...delight channels through her mouth, no, through her whole being. Coco doesn't do this-----she is this- a performer.
she
tastes like watermelon seeds and is gritty from hanging out in the
crawl-space where she has meetings with the neighbor kids. her
hair....is matted. nobody is taking care of her....not in the ways that
count, not yet anyway.
Coco is the brightest light....so much so that others insist on putting it out, putting her out.
she is clever- she meditates and reads and on
occasion hurts herself to get some attention.
she
loves to wear dresses, play rock-star, read books and talk to the cows
that she meets on her way to school. secretly, she hates her sisters
because have mandated that she always be
a good example....she actually hates all of them. life in her house is
not fair. she cleans, makes dinner and puts up with a drunk father and a
narcissistic mother.
she
needs to play to escape, to ride her bike like a
super-hero. school is too easy, so boring and filled with too
few friends---mostly this is a drain on her. very rare moments of being
recognized, lead her to believe that this is how life is....life is a
drudgery. she chooses to skip rather than walk, fly on her bike with her
sister Kiki and yearns for another game of "mystery date" with the
older neighbor girls.
her mother brings a man over to the house and Coco knows....the devil has entered the scene.
to
say that she is brave is an understatement clever, courageous and
rather mature for a person of any age. enduring rape, sodomy and torture
for years at the hands of this man----she finds an escape route.
Dissociation. her body becomes the book her soul writes. this is true than any thing there ever was.
silenced.
lying.
the matchbox.
my life in
receipts.
a voice.
my voice.
seat of the secret.
shockwave of truth
that then bathes one in a white shimmering light of their truth.
Magic is believing in yourself, if you can do that, you can make anything happen.
~Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
We are Many Lights.
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