Through art projects—including visual arts, dance, writing, and music—along with spiritual practices and guided imagery, Healing With the Arts gives you the tools to heal what you need to heal in your life: physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual.
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En provenance du cours de University of Florida
Healing with the Arts
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Mary Rockwood Lane, PhD, RN, FAANAssociate Professor
College of Nursing
Michael Samuels, MD
So I'm going to share with you three different poems and
they're three different energies.
So the first one is called Come Back As Men.
And a it's kind of a universal connected poem out there, right?
Something that I feel we can all relate with.
The next poem will be Granny's Liberation and it has kind of a comical edge to it.
And then the third poem will be called Whirlpool and
that one's a very edgy, dramatic, painful personal story of mine.
So just to give you a taste of three different flavors of spoken word poetry.
The first one is Come Back As Men.
Sunsets over open clear waters,
I'm told it's beautiful.
So powerful as it lies to rest over wavy beds of ruby red mirrors.
So powerful I am blinded by it's reflection, but I'm told.
It's beautiful.
And I'm told to trust what I cannot see because it's powerful,
hm, beautiful they say.
And as you march away the last words that stray from your lips,
the last place I swore I would ever kiss, the last taste I would never forget.
Drip the essence of your beautiful.
So blinded by the powerful sun setting over open clear waters.
Dutifull.
Marching away like the last day of my life.
And I'm the wife that's swore until death do us part.
But as war tears us apart, I hiss, I didn't sign up for this.
And all you could do is promise, I'll come back.
And when I do, I'll be a better man than before.
War.
Do they really come back as men?
Brainwashed uniform toy soldiers standing to salute the freedom that was
never freely given to you.
Now you're older to realize the truth that those lies were true when now you must
choose to walk a mile in the shoes of the men of the war that came before you.
But do they really come back as men?
Eyes swollen,
hearts broken, life stolen, who told them this was how to protect their loved ones?
it was like he shot like machine guns.
Bombs dropped on kids and villages.
Their mothers raped for fun.
Toy soldiers marching into the blinding sun.
Amputate the limbs off your best friend, one by one.
Don't stop shooting until this battle, this war is done.
And don't forget to run.
Run, run back into the manhood you were promised to.
Back to your wife and kids, If God spares you, that is.
But do they really come back as men?
Eyes swollen from bloodshot, eyes straining, straining to stay open.
Straining to be nocturnal so you don't die in the dark.
Straining back seas, so you can see enemies.
Can't let emotion blur your vision.
You must kill or be killed.
You made a decision to have no choice.
Look into the eyes of a soldier on the other side and
see fear mirrored before one of you dies.
And it doesn't matter who survives because staying alive is being in hell.
And you might as well do the honorable thing and
put another grown up child out of misery.
But don't forget to pray for the family you're robbing him from.
Keep shooting until this boundless war is done.
And one day,
your children will tell your great grandchildren how great you were then.
But what I want to know is do they really come back as men?
Eyes swollen, hearts broken.
When you came back home, I became frozen by your coldness.
Our bed, I sleep with at least a hundred dead men and their broken families.
You're more aggressive now.
You're proud to show off your medallions, stars and stripes.
And I hide your scars on my body,
too ashamed to bear how much you left me.
Maybe I too should show off the red fighter blue bruises my family earned for
its freedom.
But my vision was too blurred by emotion that I never felt free.
Silenced my beautiful every time you beat me, body frozen by your coldness.
Neighbors envious that their husbands never made it home to beat them!
So tell me free America, do they really come back as men?
Eyes swollen, hearts broken, lives stolen from families.
And just to make sure we protect and
preserve our own country we travel overseas.
And wipe branches off family trees like machetes.
We clear the path for suffering so
we can all serve our sentence in purgatory equally.
We all should be treated equally.
So if selfishness is all we know, then violence is all we'll show.
But in everyone's eyes either side can be perceived as the bad guy.
So, why not spend time and zillions of dollars helping others and
not overthrowing them!
And maybe then they might really come back as men.
No more drunken vets bragging about how many stars and
stripes they won for slaughtering the most people.
No more homeless bums, fractured and
disabled from taking care of themselves when America won't help.
No more night tremors that your psyche struggles to contain itself.
Slipping back into the comfort zone of, well,
this is the way life is and I'm free now.
No more raising our sons and some daughters to think at a,
you must fight to be free mentality.
Especially since freedom is a state of consciousness we can all tap into equally.
No more coming back as better men when too many of them don't even come back.
No more blood baths when we want clear waters with sun
setting over them because we know they're beautiful.
I've seen its reflection, and I know that they're beautiful.
So that's Come Back As Men.
After delivering a poem, you want to wait,
and be in a silent pause with your audience.
Stay connected, don't run off stage.
Stay connected.
So the next one is going to be a little lighter, a little more playful.
And it's called Granny's Liberation, and this was a personal story of mine.
[COUGH] I don't know what
is like to be old, but I do know what is like to feel helpless.
Moving my grandmother into a retirement home, when she doesn't want to go.
Shh, if granny asks anything about anything tell her we're not going to worry
about that right now.
Okay, I'll play the game.
Playing her against her own Alzheimer's we forgot about karma.
She was a lady, 80 years of her life.
Good old old-school submissive, clip on earrings, Christian wife, and
echoing voice of her husband.
Today she has no choice.
And we, her faithfully loving and trusting family, move her into this born and
raised, baptized in his holy name Bible thumping for 40 years,
couldn't have saved her from the hell in this future.
And the last days of her life she cries, I don't want to move there.
But we didn't care enough to listen.
In fact, we only paid attention when she said the word shit for
the first time in desperation.
It's worse than we thought.
Granny's really losing her mind, but for the first time I see her liberation.
Freeing itself from her fibrous disintegration and
curling itself from her osteoporosis.
Expressing herself in this phoenix psychosis.
This shit is liberation.
She's been born again and I am so proud of her.
I want to teach her a new age cuss word,
applaud her not use her weakness against her.
No, I don't know what it's like to be old.
But I do know what it's like to feel helpless.
Packing my granny's most precious thingies, I stumbled across
answers to why I got more geeked out than other crackheads when high.
My madness, It's genetic.
Granny had baggies all twist tied with tweakies everywhere.
I untweaked 47 of her idiosyncrasies to find that these baggies contain nothing
more than used paper towels and toilet tissues.
And my entire family thinks that I'm the one with issues.
Well, maybe at the moment I mean I did then tweak 47 bags to find the same thing
expecting different results, but
nonetheless, I came to the conclusion that my grannies was a delusion of brilliance.
Confined by her crippling age and
choice made to move her against her will, I will help her.
Knowing what it was like to feel helpless,
I packed her, saving half of her paper towels stuffed in baggies,
sneaking them through the cracks of the boxes like dope to prisoners.
Knowing this was all she had left of her insanity, I smuggled her creativity.
These eccentric behaviors that you call pointless patterns are secret digits to
some kind of morse code she used to connect with other planets.
They're not Twinkies there's tokens!
I tweaked on fate like, wait a minute.
Will I too mold into a beautiful mind?
Misperceived as the mental malfunctioning kind,
only because I tried to buy time before the Martians.
Magnetized by our hatred, land on our planet and take over.
You think it's easy being the Swahili?
You talk to the aliens.
Here, take these twist tied, paper towel stuffed baggies as peace offerings.
Tell them we're still trying to take over our own world and
to take a number and get in line.
Besides, the Martian [INAUDIBLE] need to start off at the bottom
of the poverty totem pole for being so different just like anyone else.
Treat them like minorities long enough they'll leave.
My granny agreed and
was compassionate enough to make up these little baggies of everything they'll need.
I'm cleaning my granny's bathroom.
Trying to comprehend what my family discarded as insanity.
Getting high off the bleach, my granny is not afraid.
She is brilliant.
She had the secrets to universal oneness and the ignorance of her loved ones.
And I, her eldest grandchild we'll proudly walk in her footsteps knowing that these
labeled crazy, misperceived behaviors will all make sense when I too am older,
wise, and helpless of the choices my family makes for the sunset of my destiny.
I too will pass on these values to my grandchildren.
Understanding that no sentimental antique could ever out value the imagination
they'll have in trying to understand me and I love my granny.
I'm moving, her unwillingness and I pray that this be the day that she forgets.
I pray that this all's time she loses enough of her mind to love
the retirement home.
Befriending all the aliens because we're not alone.
Saving our planet all on her own and us calling her crazy for doing so.
[LAUGH] So that's Granny's Liberation,
personal story of my Granny, inspired the crazy in myself, love it.
So you can take your stories that are painful, or awkward, or
uncomfortable, and turn them into comedy, and put it on blast.
So that's how I healed through that experience.
So the last poem that I'm going to share with you is a personal trauma,
traumas plural, that happened to me through my drug addiction, and
this is called Whirlpool.
[SOUND]
She reeked of sex.
Came home at 3:30 in the afternoon.
Went straight to her room and collapsed indian style in front of the mirror.
It was difficult to make her own eye contact.
She hated herself.
A shower might help.
Peeling herself from the floor she zombie walked to the shower.
Peeling off her memory clothes zombie, she stepped into the shower.
Peeling at the parasites on her skin where he touched her,
standing under a stinging shower rain she cleansed.
Soap bubbles rolled off the silk of her skin.
Now damaged she, she damned him, she cleansed.
Soap bubbles rolled off her open raw nipples sensitive and
ripped from his nibbles, she cleansed.
She could smell him leak from her.
His saliva shinned like slime on her.
The weight of the world hung itself from her shamed uterus,
now threatening to collapse and bleed from her.
Sinking down the drain in a whirlpool of powerlessness and shame,
emptiness and pain.
She'd never be the same.
No, no, no.
She couldn't stop him.
She scrambled for a word more powerful than no.
No was not a strong is a sickness to take her.
No it was not a slick sounding, rolling off the tip of her tongue,
the way sweat drip rolled off him into her eye.
No it was not as demanding as slamming into the soft
peach of her now poison nectar.
No was the only thing he let her say.
No, was her crab limbs crawling backwards into yesterday.
Bed board in her way, no!
No time to remember Bible verses, song hymns, hexes, chants, curses.
Frantic, she panicked.
She'll pray to any god who will listen.
She'll change her religion.
How could the same god who said it loved her but wouldn't save her, forgive him.
Where was her Simon?
Who would move this cross for her?
Who would move him off her, she cleansed!
Officer, he, he,
she told him what happened.
The officer replied you were in the wrong part of town,
smoking the wrong kind of shit.
This happens all the time.
There is nothing we can do about it.
Sinking in the drain and a whirlpool of powerlessness and shame.
Emptiness and pain.
She prayed to God for justice.
No.
No.
It was not enough!
She would find him, and repay him for his crime.
God said, easy my child.
Vengeance is mine.
She said, I wish vengeance was mine because I would hunt for and find him.
Torture, and split him like a raped victim's hymen.
Burning, and burning Venom, rip him to pieces.
Let him die in his feces.
Stop him, do I pop him from ever hurting anyone again?
God said, you want to stop him?
Pray for him.
Sitting Indian style in the bathtub, rocking herself
to a concept the human experience doesn't seem to get.
She only prayed for people she loved and found comfort in, and
every right in hating him.
And was he, who deserved to suffer.
But even though he wronged her, hate would only make his demonic weakness stronger.
God told her, I don't expect you to be some martyr.
But in order to find a demon, you must push harder.
And love is not a weapon he is equipped with and
not using it is the embodiment of your own imprisonment.
You come to me and I heal your pain.
I heal your pain.
I heal your pain.
But what if I told you his soul's destiny was all ready in the whirlpool
of powerlessness and shame, emptiness and pain, and he will never change.
He will never change.
He will never change.
He will never change!
Unless someone prays for him.
Thank you.
Okay how many more minutes?
Are we right there?
>> How we doing Drew?
>> 2:55.
>> One more?
>> Okay, so five minutes of breakthrough fresh.
Ready? Tell me when.
>> [INAUDIBLE] Sorry what, Phil?
>> Okay. Nope, nope.
Go back.
>> I talked to Ami, we have till about 3:05.
>> Perfect.
>> Do we? Okay.
Ready?
>> Yep.
>> Three, two.
>> I hope you enjoyed the spoken word segment.
Can I say that?
Is that all right? >> Yeah, [INAUDIBLE].
>> because it's going to flow.
All right, scratch that, [SOUND] three.
[LAUGH] Here we go.
[COUGH]
I hope you enjoyed receiving my heart through spoken word performance poetry.
And if you feel inspired, release judgment on yourself and
throw your energy into a notebook and share it.
We want to hear you.
We want to see you as the distinction of God in this world.
So where I'm at now with my life.
I used to do lots and lots of spoken word.
I actually founded and produced and
emceed an art event called Third Eye Spoken Productions, for about eight years.
And we would have an open mic for poetry.
And we had poets of all ages, all different backgrounds, come and
perform and share their heart.
And we would raise the door money for a local nonprofit or charity.
And we'd feed our crowd and pass out prizes all night long.
I felt like I was playing Santa Claus, I loved it.
And so there's so many wonderful organizations and
opportunities to speak your truth.
So I encourage you to go find that.
Where I'm at now in my life, because it almost feels like poetry was a past life,
although poetry's always going to be with me,
as my journey unfolded into teaching and facilitating.
So, I haven't been, I haven't worked a job since, like, 2008, and I love that.
I've also been fired from every job I've ever worked at.
I'm just not the personality type that does well under
people that think smaller than I do.
Yeah I want expansion and I want win win, I want, I want growth.
And I found myself kind of like butting up against frameworks that
felt more stifling then they did empowering.
So I started doing my own thing and I and became a hypnotherapist,
and I became a minister, an ordained minister interfaith minister.
And I run my own healing center called The Prosperous Living Center for a few years.
That was a lot of fun.
We had lots of spiritual metaphysical classes.
And then I let go of my house, and Third Eye Spoken and my healing center and
I moved me and my three cats into an RV, which I live in right now.
And off we went on the grand adventure of a lifetime.
So I published my first book, Break Through Your Threshold, a manual for
faith-based manifestation and co-creating with God.
And basically what it is,
is my own personal treasure map of how I co-create with the divine.
So, I'm going to tell you a little bit about that.
The first thing to know is that you are powerful beyond measure, and
you took birth with a very specific purpose that would bring you more joy,
more fun, more abundance, and love than ever imaginable.
Constantly being in tears of joy, constantly living your life in magic and
miracles.
Can you imagine that?
And when I say that, check in with yourself.
How far away are you from that alignment?
So the idea here is that I invite you to turn within your heart and
really be with what do I want from here.
Because there is no difference between what you want and
what your source wants for you.
It's a collaboration, it's a co-creative process.
So your job here is to know exactly what you want.
Have unwavering faith that it will manifest and then take practical and
inspired action.
Sounds easy right?
Where people get tripped up though is that they want to control how their good is
going to come to them.
They want to manipulate the results into fruition and they can do that but
you expend a lot of energy, you compromise yourself, you give up power,
you leak energy that way.
So what I invite you to do is let the how to be God's job or the universe's job,
whatever your paradigm is.
So your job is to know what you want, focus on it with unwavering faith and
no compromise, and then take practical and inspired action.
Let the divine, let the beauty of this magnificent universe figure out how
the details are going to come to you.
And then, your job is to take one demonstration of faith at a time.
One step at a time, and so
the threshold of consciousness is the exterior layer of our consciousness,
where we've reached our glass ceiling, so I call that, the obstacle mirror, yeah?
Have you ever created a goal outside your comfort zone and
it's inevitable that these like sabotaging obstacles are going to show up.
And I have felt like the universe is singling me out out on this.
Like why does it feel so hard?
And it occurred to me that nothing is happening to me.
That actually, the divine loves me so
much that the divine is drawing in these obstacle mirrors so that
I can see where I sell out on, like what is that vantage point where I give up?
Where I give my power away?
So the threshold of consciousness is your greatest obstacle and
if you practice this you can learn how to celebrate and it's painful and
uncomfortable, okay, but I mean celebrate like, I slammed into this really painful
glass ceiling I know that my breakthrough is on the other side.
And don't you dare give up.
You look at yourself in that obstacle mirror and
you choose to shift something within your own consciousness
to let a part of you that's limiting and blocking to shed, to die.
And then when you break through that barrier, you enter what I describe
the vacuum effect, where everything just comes to you, the people, the places,
the money, the opportunities.
You feel like a genie.
You're standing still and you are no longer your goal,
because your goal is seeking you.
So that's the threshold of consciousness.
The four basic thresholds are the external threshold,
the external threshold is like time and money.
Like you need a lot of money to go do something so
you are going to have a money breakdown.
Why? You need to be confronted with you
relationship with money.
Okay, so until you confront yourself in that relationship and decide that money no
longer has the power to decide whether or not you're going to go for what you want,
that's when you break through and then money is not a problem for you anymore.
So that's the external threshold.
The body threshold when you get sick like right before your big day or if you're
like constantly tired and that's because you're leaking your energy, your giving up
power, your giving away power, your saying yes when there's really a no inside.
So people who get sick when they are trying to play big,
they need to learn how to say no.
Very simple, just say no.
The mind threshold is when your mind goes nuts on you, okay?
I know I'm not alone on this.
Have you ever like, wanted something so big, your dream was just so vast.
And then your mind's like, you can't have that, that's going to be hard,
someone else can do that better.
You need more money, you need more education, you need more of this [SOUND].
It just goes nuts on you, right?
So that's the mind threshold.
And until you realize that you are not your mind.
That your mind is simply a program of the errors of the past.
Notice the mind say thanks for sharing and
continue to walk forward demonstrating faith co-creating with God.
And that's how you break through the mind threshold.
I'm making this sound simple but enlightenment is simple, not easy, okay.
These paradigms really are simple.
But the mastery and
the commitment to this self realization, that's where your work is.
And then finally, here's my favorite threshold.
It's the emotional threshold.
And this emotional threshold is for the drama kings and queens of the world.
It's like we attract all these dramatic situations where
people are trying to pick a fight with us.
And you're right and they really are wrong.
But it's your attachment and
addiction to being right to where you like enter the button pushing battlefield and
then you deplete all that creative energy that God gave you
in being emotionally frazzled and being right and doing like damage control.
And you lose, right?
So the way to break through the emotional threshold is the Serenity Prayer.
God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change.
Because you cannot change when people want to spread rumors about you or
break up with you or die.
You can't change these things.
The courage to change the things that I can.
You stay grounded on your purpose.
And then the wisdom to know the difference, and
the key to breaking through every single threshold is self love.
Truly ask yourself at every obstacle, every turn, what is the most loving,
self respecting way that I can handle this, and move on.
And it's a win-win.
God wants you to have a win-win, not either or.
God wants you to handle your obstacles with integrity and
live joyfully the life of your dreams.
So that's the taste of Break Through Your Threshold, if you'd like to learn more,
you can find me on the web at breakthroughyourthreshold.com.
And I've enjoyed connecting with you and I wish you an auspicious life of magic and
joy and wonder co-creating your version of heaven on earth.
Blessings to you.
[BLANK_AUDIO}.
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