Finding My Voice

“Words mean more than what is set down on paper.
It takes the human voice to infuse them with deeper meaning”
~ Maya Angelou

Happy Spring Everyone! I had intended to record and post this Museletter before the month of March came to its graceful close and before April began to blossom. But moving into my new home took all of my creative energy and attention, so here I am. 

March is and was a meaningful month for me. It’s the month of my birthday and the beginning of springtime here in the northern hemisphere, with its promise of warmer weather, blooming flowers, and brighter sunnier skies. And around the world, we celebrate Women’s History Month. 

March 8th is International Women’s Day and on March 24th we honor Equal Pay Day for Women. It is deeply troubling to me that in this country, and in other places, in many instances, women are still not being paid the same wage as their male counterparts, working in the same job. How can this possibly be?

This year’s theme and vision for International Women’s Day 2021 is: “ChooseToChallenge” and the quote below is the mission statement:

“A challenged world is an alert world. Individually, we're all responsible for our own thoughts and actions - all day, every day. We can all choose to challenge and call out gender bias and inequality. We can all choose to seek out and celebrate women's achievements. Collectively, we can all help to create an inclusive world”.

There you have it. I would add that we need more than a day, a week, even a month to celebrate women’s achievements and repair inequality.

Each and every one of our voices and choices matter because there is a massive cost in not celebrating women’s achievements. There is a vast and far reaching cost to ourselves, and to others, in not choosing to call out gender bias, inequality, misogyny. There is an immeasurable cost in not choosing to challenge the old exclusive ways. And there is a profound cost, both personally and globally, in not choosing to create an inclusive world. Ultimately there is also a deep and heartfelt cost to our unique souls when we do not choose to honor our sacred creative voices. 

And in that spirit, I would like to share with you below, a poem I wrote a few years ago, when I began in earnest, to reclaim my own true creative voice. One morning, as I sat at my kitchen table, much like I am now, with my journal open in front of me, my pen began to move with intention and passion across the blank white pages. What I understood in that moment was that my soul had something significant to convey to me, and I’d best pay rapt attention. 

My Muse, a.k.a. the inner creative voice inside of me, is known to show up at seemingly random times, often unbidden, yet always welcome. And I’ve learned from experience that it is futile to resist her and that these moments are a precious gift. This inner voice is benevolent, and has my best interests at heart, so it is in my best interests to listen well. What came through that morning was a poem I entitled, My Voice. 

Well one day, a few years later, my same pesky wise Muse showed up again, this time with the bright idea of enrolling me in an 8 week class with 7 other brave souls, under the skillful mentorship of Dixie Cox and Clifford Henderson. These two creative midwives mentored the eight of us in the creation and birthing of original ten minute solo performance pieces, which we each performed in front of a live audience... I was terrified. 

But with the support of these creativity whisperers, I was able to stretch beyond my lifelong limiting stagefright, move toward what scared me, and discover a more courageous playful expression of myself. 

It was a profound experience, and since then, I’ve come to understand how essential it is to have loving support whenever and wherever we are leaning into the hard stuff in life, moving toward the unfamiliar, the places that spook us. How powerful and empowering it is, to be witnessed and held by loving eyes and arms, on our personal creative walkabouts. 

My vision for Creative Resonance ~ Painting, Poetry & Play for the Soul is to support women in their sacred creativity and sovereignty. I offer individual online sessions, and in the near future, I hope and intend to offer outdoor group workshops... so stay tuned.

Now I would like to share with you my poem, in honor of this year’s International Women’s Month, and in honor of the ongoing practice of bearing witness and supporting each other. May we each continue to “choose to challenge” the old, outmoded, oppressive ways, and may we celebrate our unique, essential, authentic voices. Here is “My Voice”:

MY VOICE

My voice covered in dust and fine silt,
deeply embedded in sandstone,
beneath broken bits of bowl,
cracked clay, shards of mineral,
animal, rock, and bone.

This voice coated in rust,
parched and flinty, dry as desert gusts,
thirsty as scorched sandstorms,
her eerie breezes blowing remnants of unbirthed poems,
unsung songs, haunting solitary horizons.

My voice lusts for good company,
longs to be undressed, just so,
unbutton brash, but bashful soliloquy,
coax cobwebbed simile and moth-bitten metaphor,
disrobe deftly my smitten tendrilled core.

This voice flushed with a tremulous fire,
imagines igniting embers of tamped down desire,
warm my whispering voice, hushed, but never expired,
this voice gone missing such a long, long time,
blushed, but still burning, with a quiet requiem.

My voice buried, but never broken,
trussed and gusseted, prepared then postponed,
sincere as a prayer invoked and intoned, daring solitude to be alone,
brushed over, crushed over time, to a fine alchemical powder,
now medicine for my soul’s genuine clamour.

This voice, now salve for hands not clapping,
antidote for toes too long not tapping,
elixir for words so long not sassing, now gasping,
daring to fuss and to cuss and push past self-doubting,
panting and ranting into unladylike shouting!

My voice, she’s been so long simmering,
this shy “I” voice, has been sizzling and silently listening,
she’s been steaming and stewing, fermenting and brewing,
bubbling in a cauldron of cacophonous longing,
caramelizing a confection of brassy belonging!

This voice, she’s fixing to sashay her saucy self right up to life.
Why it’s high time I sidle off that dusty shelf and display my light!
Yes, it’s a decidedly fine time, to encourage my courage
to shine and to share. Well I do declare!
I’m trusting my voice enough, to finally dare.

~ Meris Specterman Walton

FIELD OF POSSIBILITY

“It’s not the unknown we should be afraid of, but the known. Step into the field of possibility.”

~ Deepak Chopra

During this Father’s Day weekend, I am thinking about my dad, with gratitude. And because it is also the Summer Solstice, the longest light filled day of the year, it inspires me to dream into new possibilities. To illuminate and fertilize what nourishes me, while I courageously let go of what no longer feeds my soul. 

In this way, my father has been an inspiration for me. He is almost 90 years old, and when he was still just a young lad on the cusp of adulthood, a few months shy of his 18th birthday, he left his childhood home back in England, and moved to the United States. 

He had not planned to stay in the States for the rest of his life, when he first set sail for New York City, in June 1948. He’d merely intended to have a bit of a holiday, to visit his oldest sister, who had recently married an American GI. But as London continued to clean up the rubble and rebuild itself after World War II, my dad packed his satchel and boarded a trans-atlantic ocean liner. He traveled modestly, in third class steerage, sharing a room with three other fellows, replete with two bunk beds and a loo. He was enthusiastic and curious, looking for a bit of adventure, following the energy of his imagination. 

He has since told me how much he loved that week onboard the ship, where he ate well, saw a musical show every night, danced beneath the stars, and slept soundly in his bunk, rocked by the wave motion of the Atlantic Ocean. And then, as if by magic, on a bright summer morning, they docked at the gateway to America. Under the welcoming gaze of the Statue of Liberty, my dad disembarked from the ship, walked down the gangplank amidst the throng of his fellow passengers, and into the welcoming embrace of his brother-in-law. Talk about stepping into a field of possibility! How thrilling that moment must have been for him and what courage it called forth. Before him stretched a blank canvas, a new page, an opportunity to trust the present moment, and to follow his own aliveness. 

This sounds to me a lot like the Intuitive Painting process, where we say “yes” to the unfamiliar and unknown. We trust our intuition and allow our imagination to guide us. We practice staying present and we track where our greatest energy is. We listen well to our internal muse, so that we may hear and receive her generous, benevolent, bossy, frequently sassy, playful, and paradoxical prompts.

Needless to say, my father never moved back to England. He became enchanted with the field of possibilities available to him here in the States. He followed his curiosity and the aliveness of the present moment. Over time, he became a U.S. citizen, served in the army, and went to University. He married my mother, had two daughters, later divorced, and then some years after that, he remarried very happily. He is blessed with three fine grandsons, and more recently, an adorable great grandson. Along the way, he’s made friends, he’s made mistakes, he’s gained wisdom, and he’s made lots of jokes. 

In the past, it was not always so easy between the two of us. There were swaths of time when we had difficulty understanding one another, when distance grew between us. During those times it was painful to feel so separate. I am happy to report that in recent years we have grown very close again. There has been a shedding of the old stories and positions. We are more tender and more real with each other; we have forgiven and been forgiven. I am delighted to say that now there is simply presence and love, flowing with ease, between father and daughter. For this, I am deeply grateful. 

While I’m at it, I also want to express gratitude to my dad, for transmitting two essential precepts for a life well lived. The first is to follow your heart’s true longing. The second is to keep your sense of humor, even when things are difficult, especially when things are difficult. And one more thing, I want to say thanks Dad, for always carrying a clean white handkerchief in your pocket, for those many life moments of tears and sneezes.

My father’s journey reminds me that whenever we are embarking upon a new path or challenging project, especially during times of uncertainty and disruption, times when we might be feeling fear or trepidation, it is helpful to have support. Whether we are  traveling to a new country, navigating our lives during a global pandemic, saying good-bye to a loved one, changing jobs, starting a family, or starting a new painting or poem, it is extremely essential and delicious to have support from a friend, a mentor, a sangha, our family, our ohana. 

My father was heartily welcomed to this new landscape by his sister and brother-in-law. My Uncle Irving even took him to Yankee stadium that very first weekend after Dad arrived from the UK, sharing the summertime magic of American baseball! 

Here at Creative Resonance, I wholeheartedly welcome you into the magical realm of Painting, Poetry, & Play for the Soul.  With paints and brushes, paper and glitter, and my loving support, I invite you to join me in this safe, healing, playful kiva of creativity. Together we practice trusting in our intuition and imagination, we follow the energy of our own aliveness, and we reconnect with our true self. We allow ourselves to “step into the field of possibility”.

Below I’d like to share with you one of my poems about this simple potent practice of Creative Resonance:

Invitation to Thrive

I invite you to join me in a journey of self-discovery and self-acceptance, 
to enter this generous garden where we cross-pollinate painting, poetry, and play,
a sanctuary where we appreciate and celebrate who we already are,
a path of inclusion, where messiness has permission to be exactly as it is,
a process of alchemy, where paradox and synchronicity are always welcome,
a loving place of no fretting, no fixing, no resisting, no way to do it wrong, 
here we find our sangha, our ohana, “where nobody gets left behind or forgotten.”

Intuitive Painting invites us to become intimate with creativity itself,
to have beginner’s mind and a childlike willingness to explore and play,
to be curious about color, the allure of shape and image, trusting the brush to guide us.
Here we paint like children, engaged in the process, not attached to the product,
where we wade into waves of glitter and gold, make bold wild strokes of neon tempera hues, 
all the while, tended and befriended by our own benevolent Muse, 
chaperoned by a gracious presence, the synergy of Creative Resonance.

Process Poetry is an invitation to take dictation from our bossy glorious soul,
to be in conversation with the unconventional, the unconscious, the quirky, and the taboo,
a playful, respectful, sometimes sassy call and response,
a walkabout into the labyrinth of imagination and mystery,
a practice of demystifying the actual act of writing, simple as chopping wood and carrying water.
A process of deep listening to the small voice within, just as brave, and just as creative, 
as looking into the mirror and welcoming ourselves all the way in.

Soul Play is a safe portal, a simple array of movement explorations designed to nourish us,
a sustainable menu of moving meditations, distilled and woven from Yoga, Improv, and Tai Chi,
gentle, playful, self-regulated forays into motion and stillness, sound and silence,  
a chance to dance with our own inner knowing, 
a way to encourage our embodied wisdom to flow.
And because self-care and play are essential to enlivening our creativity,
It is a magic pass that inspires us to grow, catalyzing our unique aliveness.

The trio of Painting, Poetry, & Play for the Soul is your invitation to thrive.
Your chance to reconcile your clever-minded left brain with your wise-hearted right brain.
Who would have guessed these simple elegant practices could help you feel so alive? 
Your soul knew, that’s who! The one who longs to belong, she intuitively knew.
So please, join me in this terrain of Expressive Arts. Here I am your seasoned sherpa. 
I attune well to your words and to the unspoken gestures of your inner landscape.
I welcome all of you, just as you are, encouraging you to courageously be your true self.   

~ Meris Walton

Spring Equinox, New Beginnings...

“Start by Starting” ~ Meryl Streep

Today, not for the first time, my son Taj showed up as my Muse. Ever since he was a little boy, this wise rascal has been sweetly “busting me”, kindly calling me on my blind spots, and mirroring my frequent foibles with his good natured, perceptive sense of humor. Today was no exception. For the past few years, he has graciously been helping me design my new website, this very one: Creative Resonance: Painting, Poetry & Play for the Soul. Generously offering his technical expertise and keen artistic eye, patiently waiting for me to take the leap. But today, after four years of my perfectionistic procrastination, Taj said to me, “Mom, let’s do this. It’s time to jump into the deep end. Remember, it does not have to be perfect.” 

Of course, he was spot on. And the irony of his words was not lost on me! This website has been gestating for quite a while, and now it is asking to be born. In this moment of global pandemic, which is so deeply affecting the entire world, changing how we live, how we work, how we stay connected, and how we support one another, I am inspired to birth this website. 

And paradoxically, during this time of sheltering in place, I now have more creative time and space to welcome this website into being. I am inspired to offer this portal as a way to connect with other creatives. In this potent moment, there exists the possibility of going deeper into our creative practices. My own experience has been just that. Each day, I devote some time to writing, painting, and moving in ways that are nourishing to my body and soul. 

I know very well that perfectionism is based in fear. Fear of failure. And yet here I was, for the past few years, getting entangled in old paralyzing habits, trying to cobble together some perfect end product. Like my fellow humans, I am teaching what I need to learn, what I need to remember. Because what I know deep in my bones is that creativity is powerful medicine. And I also know there is freedom in being willing to fail. The practices offered here at Creative Resonance are about process not perfection. And the essence of Painting, Poetry & Play For the Soul is about flow, aliveness, and gleefully making mistakes. 

Naturally, I had a good laugh, because once again, my son was reminding me of what I had forgotten. I’ve spent years writing, editing, and rewriting each page of this website, trying to get it “just right”, trying to craft an ideal version of the way I thought it should look and sound. I was stuck in a perpetual loop of my own habitual perfectionism, and as a result, I was cutting my own flow! High time for me to pivot and refocus on the process not the product. Because perfectionism is always a false promise; it keeps us small, rather than safe. 

Thank you, Taj, for encouraging me to leap into the deep end of the pool, to launch this website at last. Or as the renowned actress, Meryl Streep says, to “start by starting”.

And actually, my conversation with Taj reminded me of an experience I had a long time ago. When I was about seven years old, my mother enrolled me at a local day camp in Brooklyn. About four weeks into the eight week experiment, on family visiting day, my mom and dad showed up and my enthusiastic swim coach thought it would be the perfect time to demonstrate my progress. He persuaded me to take my deep water swim test, while my ashen parents looked on from the bench. My little self was not so sure that I was ready for this, but as chlorine vapors wafted up from the Olympic size indoor pool, I gamely jumped into the deep end, and began to kick and splash my way across the width of the pool. About half way, I gulped a heaping serving of pool water and began to flail. Despite my mad attempts at dog-paddling, I was about to sink like a rock, when magically a metal pole appeared, and I grabbed onto it. In this way, I was mercifully towed safely to the end of the pool. My pale looking parents were visibly relieved. And although I was momentarily a bit embarrassed, I did not feel ashamed; and happily, I did not give up on swimming. The very next day, I was gently encouraged by my coach to try again and by the end of four more weeks of camp, I could make it all the way across the pool on my own. The following summer, I was deftly swimming the full length, with great delight. And these days, at the age of 64, I love to swim and play in our local pool several times a week. (Although for now, during the pandemic, the pool is temporarily closed. I look forward to the day when it can safely be reopened).

So whether your own personal style is to start by slowly dipping the tips of your toes into the shallow end, or to dash up the rungs of the ladder and leap from the high diving board into the deep end, it is good to simply start by starting. 

In the spirit of play and encouragement, I invite you to make beautiful use of this rarefied time. There is a potency to this moment. And one thing I know for sure is that creativity is essential soul medicine. Engaging in activities that bring us more joy and aliveness is balancing and nourishing.

Now through May, I am offering free consultations to help you “start by starting”.

I can be reached at: meriswalton@creativeresonance.me

And now I offer you this poem below, that I wrote, as I considered the possibility of starting:

Spring Equinox 2020, Time for a New Paradigm: “Start by Starting”

A new paradigm is here, a time of uncertainty, and the possibility of creating a new narrative, 
so with no absence of fear, I dare to offer up this bold and soulful springtime prayer.
I invoke the qualities of courage and self-acceptance, to shepherd me in this creative realm, 
as I let go of old threadbare self-improvement projects and themes, schemes to keep me safe, 
but only keep me small, and instead I dream boldly, and simply start by starting. 

I tremble as I commit this invocation to paper, to whisper this vision aloud, 
for this daring walkabout, I must trust my imagination, and humbly ask for support from friends, 
those sheltering in place, keeping their social distance, but who still dream soulful dreams.
I will start by starting, one brushstroke at a time, on this journey, near and dear to my heart,
guided by the talisman of my soul’s inspiration, and the compass of my own holy longing.

As I pry my white knuckled toes off the proverbial ledge, say yes to what I’ve been avoiding, 
not quite leaping, more like edging myself off a cliff...not yet remembering how to fly.
I allow myself to tumble, freefall style, into an uncharted void, 
I’ve no idea what awaits me, in the chasm of this new prayer, in this year’s spring equinox,
in the gap that lies before me, I only know that it’s high time, I start by starting.

As spring blooms, and Earth takes her next jaunty lap around the warm and generous sun,
I deepen my commitment to the healing power of creative self-expression,
and I look forward to sharing with you, the potent practices of CREATIVE RESONANCE.
Please join me, in this magical realm of Painting, Poetry & Play for the Soul,
where together, online, in classes, workshops, or private sessions, we will start by starting.

~ Meris Walton 

20 March 2020