I wondered as a child,
where did the wind go
after it passed me by,
how long will a star burn
before it dies,
where did the dawn wait- `
and will there ever be arms to hold me?
As I sat on the shore of midlife-
my spirit as tremendous
as the inexhaustible lake before me-
I felt my destiny afire,
ready to meet a world to come.
And I wondered, right then,
will my body be enough to hold me?
– Susan Frybort
I wondered as a child,
I am like a puzzle with pieces scattered throughout time.
I am leaving for Peru tonight to drink the ayahuasca tea and work with the Shamans in the Amazon to find my pieces and make my puzzle whole again.
When I was born into this world the pain hurt so bad. It hurt and something was wrong. My body had broken thru the birth process and no one knew for two weeks. I cried and I cried more then any baby should cry. My Dad sensing something was very wrong took me back to the hospital and it was discovered that I had a broken collar bone. But that was only the beginning. Perhaps it was me, my baby instinct to push away a mothers love that couldn’t be, or could it be that it was her incapable of soothing and healing the brokenness within me. So the love that should have been never came to be and instead I was thrown into a thousand pieces and I scattered to the point that I could not see the whole me, the me that you see. Inside I felt broken, flawed, unlovable and ugly, that I wasn’t good enough and that there was something very wrong with me. I had to be things I was not, to strive for goals that were not my own, to look like someone who I wasn’t.
At the half way point between then and now I began to search and gather the pieces of the puzzle that was me. I loved and lost and loved and lost and with each loss through some mysterious grace a little more of me came together and after more years and more love came less loss. Sisters and brothers came from other mothers and women with white hair pulled me to my feet over and over again. They held my hand, their eyes sparkled when they looked at me and different picture came into view.
But still inside I was sad I could feel there was something I couldn’t find, some pieces of the puzzle of me, a keystone, the healing I still needed, beyond all talking, self help books and seminars. I was to find this all on my own not with others, not thru sparkles in another’s eyes but accessing the original grief of being unloved and being unseen when I needed it most to grow whole.
My sense of worth, of value, my preferences and the birthright of being whole have not been able to come online. I have never fully been who I really am because I never really knew. The winds of life had continued to blow around the pieces of the puzzle that are me. I didn’t know what I didn’t know and yet I also knew but wasn’t sure enough to even have my own back or stand on my own two feet.
And now today I begin an important journey, a pilgrimage, a quest to find the borders and corners and the last few pieces to make the picture whole, to heal the broken body and the broken heart. To finally embody what I feel but couldn’t be, and complete the puzzle that is me.
When we get together its like two little girls who should probably jump on the bed for about 15 minutes before we try to accomplish anything, our energy and excitement is so high when we are together,
She is my soul sister
She found me, I don’t know how she did it but she did, not only that she marched into my heart and took her place as if she always had one there, and it seems she did, she resonates with me in ways I rarely can with others, she is like me.
We were sitting on my couch last time planning our trip of a lifetime. Talking and talking about all the things happening in our lives on so many levels our words hardly coming fast enough to convey the so many levels we are processing, our lives, our pasts, our relationships, our bodies.
Slow down, we need to breathe she says…
She says, “look me in the eyes,” I look into her beautiful eyes so innocent, hopeful, and faithful.
and then she says with all the heartfelt emotion in the world, “This is for us Gretchen, this is going to heal us, this is what we have been waiting for, I can feel it!”
Her joy and hope so lovely, bless her sweet soul, I can feel her so much, her strength and absolute resolve, I am touched by her.
I feel it too but I am scared, I am at the feet of something so much bigger then my mind can possibly grasp. I can see it already preparing me in the reflection of my life. Significant dreams, phone calls from special people, the money that has flowed my way, the chance meetings and conversations that were so relevant, and my shadow stuff rising to the surface in all its torturous glory. Even my body is transitioning, I am eating less without trying, gagging on smoke and things that are bad for me.
We are going to Peru, to retreat into the jungle to sip ayahuasca tea with the Shamans, to receive their songs and healings. To frolic in the Amazon, rest in the downpours of rain, and run wild with the Monkeys.
We are going home
I almost slip
here and gone
here and gone
My soul separates
and something catches …
for you for me.
Like an electron
appear and disappear
we out there
for a second, for a minute,
for a long time
and we in here
Magnetism pulls us in sync,
resonance holds our hands
as we light these circuits,
and entangle our paths.
You see in me what I love in you
I feel in you what I discover in me.
We hold on
we let go
We are friends
we are foe
and I love you even so ❤
back and forth it goes
We are free
We are free
It was like an LSD flash back, walking the underground tunnel from Harrahs to Harveys, the esclator down down down, the wafting up like a strong wind the diluted smells of cigarettes, buffet, gasses, and money. The Tunnel beneath: Arron Nevelle will be in town, Night Ranger January 4, Win $500,000.00 like Joe Plumber from Nebraska. All this fun smiling at me from the plexi-glass billboards, I pass a vacant eyed old man walking slowly opposite me, I smile, no eye contact. On the other side, pass Wabo Cabo, thru the arcade, the sounds, random beeps, mechanical laughter, whirly whirly sounds draining somewhere. Gunshot sounds fading now into casino sounds, dinging, and ringing, Lights, Carpet, Action, Harveys!!! Like a sponge for about 3 minutes I was soaked in my senses thru the tunnel, brighter, smellier, weirder, surreal, empty. -Gretchen Spletzer
At times lost in space, peering inward at the immensity and infinity of what we are. Or deeply focusing on some strange aspect of this reality our mind becomes a microscope for a time looking and looking. The birth of a butterfly, the strange preying mantis, the ancient consciousness of static things, trees and rocks. In some places the dirt even sparkles diamonds and whispers its magnificence in the ready knowingness of our mind. The water winding its way through the lands carving deeper and deeper, cleansing, offering, inviting us into another world within this world. The emotions, the rollercoaster that thrills us in this life, passion, joy, sadness, feeling the falls and highs, the twists and turns of this journey we ride. The arms of a thousand shades of green reflected in our eyes, my sense of smell, and taste, cooling, nourishing this body, blanketing this planet and pumping the very atmosphere with life support. We didn’t come here asking for anything but have been given astonishment after astonishment in the the many gifts placed before our feet. The love that has carried us like a little boat as we have floated, bumped, and cruised along. How wonderful it is to be when we didn’t have to be at all, to have it all and to hold on to nothing, to be the still point between dark and light, good and bad, gain and loss, love and hate and to wrap it all in the humility of deep acceptance of what is, not to argue anymore but to watch, to meet it all as it is, as it wishes to show, love, and teach us. – Gretchen Spletzer
Show an episode that had an impact on you through sensory description:
Yesterday I was cleaning my garage so I can park my car inside it. The smell of old oil, tools, and years of garage work I always find so nostalgic, it reminds me of the men in my family with their riding lawn mowers, cheap beer cans lined up on a shelf, endless tools and loads of spare keys homeless yet saved like a collection of hope or last memento. I came across the 3 scooters I bought for myself and my niece and nephew. My sister and I had a huge falling out over a year ago and we no longer speak to each other but I was very close with her children. I went to move the little pink and little red scooter my hand grasping the handle of both, as I made contact with them I was instantly affected. With the handle of each one I felt like I was transported and connected to them. Their little hands touched those handles last. Those little hands full of wonder and fun, full good nature innocence and love. I felt like I had bridged for a few moments the time and distance between us. As I stood their letting these feelings flood my body feeling them so keenly so powerfully, it was like the three of us were briefly holding hands, emotion welled up in my heart and spilled down my cheeks, the longing, the missing , the grieving, even now as I type these words I can feel the very real visceral pain. I stood there remembering scooting down to the local corner market on a hot summer day for ice creams, sitting on the curb while they melted and dripped down the kids arms and their little faces full of chocolate and strawberry. I remember that it was me who showed them what wild was like, what barefoot was like, reminded them that one day they would grow up and could do anything they wanted. Ice creams polished off we took selfies with my phone, ice cream now crusting like dirty gummy rings around our mouths. Off we scooted back to the house like a little gang, our own little team. I stood there as I remembered, feeling so much love and feeling the deepest grief of a situation I cannot fix, on children I cannot watch grow up and a loss I shall never forget. I let this all pass through me with acceptance, surrender, unwilling anymore to blame myself for the situation but to feel it and to hold the tremendous love I have for them as well honoring and respecting myself with gratitude for the compacity to love so much.