"I don't know what I'm doing," she said.
"You are here - that's all you need to do," I responded.
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Lost in Fog, by Georgia Radford |
I surprised myself when I decided to ask my mother to join my studio circle. It was late fall of 2010. I had a deep sense of impending loss - my father was dying. It was that knowledge that compelled me to open up my professional world to her in this way, although I wasn't sure I had done the right thing.
In one part of my life, I was the only child assisting both my parents in navigating medical issues, hospice, and end-of-life decisions for my father. I was a daughter to a father who was slipping away and to a mother who was confused, exhausted, and losing her sense of purpose and identity. I was consulting, managing, tending, attuning and assessing. In another part of my life, in this new agreement, I would be holding space for a woman to be present to herself, learning to trust while navigating a sea of grief. She wanted it, although she too was unsure, but for very different reasons.
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Losing Ground, by Georgia Radford
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The studio where I offer SoulCollage®, Expressive Art, and Depth Process was well established with clear agreements. These women of many ages had been gathering regularly for years. I asked that my mother and I address each other using our first names, to give us both a sense of clear boundaries and space to create into. I wanted to honor the depth of process that she was likely to experience. I wanted to clarify that she needed only to be herself in this space. So it was the woman Georgia, not my mother, who came through my studio door that November. I committed to her as a client, as another woman, as a sister in the circle. She was to become a part of this powerful co-creative tribe.
I had been watching my parents carefully during my father's decline. I could see how they were unwinding from one another, and the toll that caregiving was taking on my mother. Her desire to fix, find solutions, and try to avoid unspoken resentments resulted in an acute loss of freedom. She felt blocked intellectually, her energy compromised and vitality dampened. The fierce winds of anticipatory grief brought the perfect storm.
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Alone, by Georgia Radford
I Am One Who is alone, wandering on the edge of a great sea
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I had spoken about the benefits of creative process many times. One year earlier, a gift to her of a journal had brought intense consternation. A late-night phone call exposed a deep fear of this style of self-reflection: "But what am I supposed to write? Who am I writing it for?" And finally, "I don't want anyone to find it or read what I'm feeling." Now she was ready - images spoke to her and she began slowly to invite them in.
The rawness came first, jagged lines and confused states. In early January, she was telling his stories, who he had been and how he was lost, depicting this in the ramshackle house and the questioning stance of the man who can no longer design or build. Then between one studio meeting and the next, her husband was gone.
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Primal Scream, by Georgia Radford
I Am One Who screams in the desert, I Am One Who crawls on the rocks seeking death, I Am One Who invites this pain to be swallowed whole, as I am swallowed whole.
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When Georgia returned, she was suspended in a state of loss, seeking clues in her reflection, standing at the window of the widow. Creating for her was slow, yet she was committed to seeking and exploring in this way. An image came of a woman in dark Victorian clothes, holding a dog in her arms "like my childhood dog," walking and looking over a marshy expanse. The imagery found voice; she began to see and feel trust in herself to share the depth of her truth.
The primal scream came next. Raw, wounded, and with enormous fear she came, another period of long and lonely nights taking their toll.
An unraveling time came, with foggy images, remembering images, the loss of a son and now her beloved. She found that muffled women and bleak energies blanketed and protected her as she was grieving. She was present and able to witness herself in her grief, as she created; being held in a circle of sisters was profound.
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They Are Gone, by Georgia Radford
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Colors begin to return to her in the late summer and she felt something was awakening. Small dogs had continued to travel in her cards, but now there were women in lighter clothing, expressing movement and possibility. As fall turned there was a renewal of energy, a glimmer of hope. Symbols that were his, she gifted to herself: a golden walking stick, a suitcase of possibilities, a doorway to the cosmos, a jeweled talisman.
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| Opening, by Georgia Radford |
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Climbing to the Cosmic Door,
by Georgia Radford
I Am One Who can still experience surprises, the one who wants to open the suitcase and know what is inside. |
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In December she felt herself stepping across a new threshold, acknowledging hope for the first time all year. She was able to quiet the critic and learn a new language as she committed to discovering a personal way to approach SoulCollage®, where art-making becomes a language of self-expression. We forged a new trust - I held the lantern for her as she traveled though her dark night. This was my gift of the heart from me the woman to She the woman.
In late December, I became the daughter once again. I was increasingly aware that I could no longer balance the roles of meeting her many needs as a daughter and offering the studio while simultaneously holding sacred space and facilitating depth process for so many others. I was starting to feel fragmented and strained. During this same period she experienced some health concerns, so we decided that the year of studio was at a place of completion. She was sad. It was very hard.
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Georgia Radford,
photo by Cat Caracelo
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We continued to live, love, and create together in other ways over the last two years of her life. Challenges came and went, but again and again she connected back to the possibility of adventure, exploring the edges of universal consciousness that she had touched on in her last SoulCollage® card,
Climbing to the Cosmic Door.
I am grateful for the year we had together in studio, grateful to find in my mother the woman, Georgia, who lost herself and created space to reclaim her life.
Cat Caracelo, MA is a depth coach, educator and artist offering a blended approach to depth work, expressive arts, narrative process, coaching, and conscious life design. She is the founder of JourneyPath Institute, and offers eCourses, Retreats, JourneyCircles™ Facilitator Training, and Depth Coach Certification. Engaging the journey using a multi-modal approach brings forth deep healing, aligned expression, and evolutionary growth.
Click here for more information.
