A Resourced Player
SOC Writing _ 13 June 2020
A Resourced Player
From childhood we take what we can, what we are given from carers, school, the bus ride, walking home with strangers. We build our worlds from a young age with what is around us. For me; bridges, siblings, the neighbour, rivers, fires, lonely farm scapes that called to the desperate desire of my heart to be known and seen. Pulled out like taffy – the rest of my life follows these themes - the places, resources and people all hark back to the early days, those early experiences build up in the cells of my breastbone and meat. Things I cannot dislodge, but can only play with, tend and grow more wide eyed aware to what I am working with. This clay of me came from a particular river, has a particular grit, minerality, and is suited just right for kitchen bowels. It is robust and holds well for large, utilitarian dishes. It is also sculpture clay – able to hold weight in a great piece – though the sculptor has yet to venture higher in completing this masterpiece. And so I know me. But here is the intermingling of other clays, from other soils, stains, and rains. Bits and bobs of the other colorate my piece - run through me and affect the whole. This is beautiful. This is often painful. There are weaknesses and strengths dotted over the whole of me. But they are part of this whole. Resourced means an ability to keep turning up to what is arising. Sometimes what is here is too much. Too much of a call to stand in my power – too easy to cower and this too is ok. I notice now that just because I cannot push through that very sticky conversation with she – I am not less. I am aware that my resources here are thin and for good reason – they were misaligned in those early days I mentioned earlier. One day, one day I will tread here again in my power, seeing what is and speaking my truth. We all must, in our own little ways, know who we are and walk with that.