Transformation

 

I went into hiding when my father died.

I went into hiding when I realized just how sick I was.

There was no hope. I was brushed aside.

I went into hiding when a physician questioned my motives.

I was told not to be me.

I went into hiding when I was criticized once too often.  I wasn’t good enough.

I went into hiding when I was diagnosed with the disease.

I felt like I was such an outsider. I felt hopeless.

I was exhausted.

 

 

Sitting in the dark, I was ashamed.

Sitting in the dark, I reached out for the light.

I couldn’t do anything alone. I didn’t exist.

Sitting in the dark, I prayed.

I felt alone and unwanted.

I was afraid of the dark.

I couldn’t come out because I had decided to hide. I was worthless.

Sitting in the dark, I became more receptive.

I realized I had become an advocate.

Answers were needed, so I went to the top.

Questions and concerns were immediately addressed.

Sitting in the dark, I was okay.

Sitting in the dark, I felt frozen, paralyzed.

 

I knew I could come out when I felt myself.

I knew I could come out when it was over.

When I was greeted with more respect.

I knew I could come out when I realized it had nothing to do with me.

It was not my fault.

I knew I could come out when I heard my voice.  I felt I had support.

I knew I could come out when I let go. I saw the light.

I knew I could come out when I had nothing left to lose.

 

Stepping into the light, I filled up. I felt warm all over.

It was joyous.

I gave thanks. Yes! I gave thanks.

Stepping into the light, I felt my power.

I smiled. I laughed. I felt joy. I loved.

Stepping into the light, there was hope.

I felt lighter. I grew.

I was humbled.

Stepping into the light, I found my path. I was awed.

 

Written by the 2011 Storytelling Workshop; Ann Aird, Emelda Bethune, Suzy Burns, Charlotte Defilippo, Betsy Hemmel, Sharon Humphries-Brooks, Connie Lennon, Jean McNamara, Colleen O’Connor, Fran Yardley