Births, deaths, and the spaces in between
I’m in Toronto, just about ready to go to sleep. The final portion of this trip is the business-related stuff that was the original purpose of this trip. (In a happy coincidence, the timing worked out that I could add the Cleveland piece onto the trip.)
I am feeling so full of wonderful experiences, delightful conversations, some serious “digging” and creating, and miles and miles of contemplating while staring out windows. The bus was not as fun as the train, but it was still good to have some quiet decompression time after a very full day on Saturday at the workshop and then a lovely supper out and a deep and soulful conversation with Christine. (How I loved our conversation, Christine!)
Today, as I reflect on the ways my soul was awakened this weekend, it’s rather fitting that I am also honouring the ninth anniversary of the birth and death of my son Matthew. I wasn’t home to do the traditional releasing of the balloons and ice cream celebration with the family, and since I was on a bus most of the day, I didn’t manage to find my own balloons, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t honour my son in my heart.
As many of you know, Matthew’s presence in my life has been a strong spiritual force that continues to this day despite the fact that he is not physically present. Just like the day I birthed my still son and was changed by that experience, this weekend I felt like another kind of birth is in the process of changing me.
Sometimes births are really, really hard – especially those that hold hands with death – but for hope to emerge and for growth to happen, we have to be willing to go through with the labour pains. Damn those labour pains! (I’ll never forget the agony of that moment, when, after the doctor told me my son was dead in utero, the full force of the realization hit me that I would still have to live through the pain of labour. I don’t know when I’ve ever done anything more difficult.)
It’s late, my thoughts are not fully formed tonight, and I’m a little nervous of a big meeting I have to run tomorrow (with little preparation because I procrastinated horribly and am just not in the right space for day-job-related stuff), so I’m going to sign off.
Before I go though, I thought this was a rather fitting photo from Creative Dig of me after “birthing” a little clay face. After I stepped back and looked at it, I realized that (not intentionally) the face I created was that of a little boy. Only now do I realize that perhaps it was Matthew’s face being molded in my hands.
Hi, I'm Heather Plett. I'm excited that you've stopped by to learn more about how we can make the world a better place through the sharing of our gifts and creativity. I've been thinking about these topics for a lot of years now. Through my work in creative communication, workshop facilitation, fundraising, leadership training, and freelance writing, I've gathered a lot of wisdom and stories from my own experiences and the experiences of the people I've been blessed with knowing.
Oh, wow, Heather. I could go on and on about how beautifully worded this post is, but that “automatic sculpture” of yours has me full of awe and reaching for the Kleenex. I’m so happy for you that you experienced such a “find” at the workshop.
TY Heather, A beautifully touching & thought provoking insight to your grief & immense love & joy for life. Also a poignant reminder of the fragility of life and the need to embrace all that we have been dealt & to work with that hand in a way that will grow us a s people.
How beautiful, Heather. I’m so glad you’ve had this delicious time with your beautiful self, your creativity and Matthew.
heather, i just want to give you a hug.
Heather, what a beautiful post. It brought tears this morning.
It was such a pleasure to meet you on Saturday! I’m so glad you were able to join us all!
All the best,
Jennifer
Thank you for sharing such a beautiful and heart-felt post. So glad you got to dig deep into your brilliant creative soul.
gorgeous! sounds like you had an amazing time.
Yes, we remembered too, here in our household.
I’ve been thinking of you and your Matthew since we spoke and to come to your blog today to read this…thank you for sharing. The clay face is truly Divinely Inspired. As if Matthew breathed a bit of himself into your hands and then into the clay. He is with you always, he seems to be clearly stating.
And thank you, Heather, for our time together after the Dig. I will be thinking of that and processing all that we talked about for many days to come.
Dear Heather,
I love that photo of you with your clay piece in your hand. On my flight back home to AZ, I played around with all the photos I took at the workshop. I kept coming back to this one of you…and also to a close up I took of your mask. I didn’t even know at the time, that that mask was yours…but it has such a magical element to it, I thought…and I created multiple images of it through cropping and changing the color.
Now I understand much more clearer. I understand the power Art has to communicate..to connect…to create closure..as well as to commemorate new beginnings. Thank you for sharing so much of your beautiful self, life, and experience with me. I have grown in great leaps, just by knowing you.
Peace & Love.
Your strength is glorious.
I am remembering a lesson in Psychology from my college days. My professor explaining our subconscious and our conscious. Our subconscious is huge, bigger than our conscious, this you know, and causes our reactions to certain situations to not always be what we think it should be. We are not conscious as to why, because the inborn reaction has come from our subconscious. Our professor explained it like an ice berg. You see the ice burg and how massive it is on top of the water, however it is four times that size underneath the water level. The lower part holding up the part above water. I have always said when we are in the right spot mentally and spiritually the BEST of our unconscious comes forth and heals us.(sometimes we the worst can come forth this we know as well). Seeing you hold that little boys face in your hands is the perfect visual example to my theory.
I am thankful for you. Always.
Thank you for your revelation of self so beautifully unfolded. We never know what lies within or beneath or behind the faces we see unless and until it’s brought forth. A friend of mine has often used a signature line of a quote I know I won’t get right but its message to me is to always be kind for we have no idea the load another carries but it’s always way more than we can see. I’m reminded of that today reading this because I had blithely said in my own blog I was green with envy that you had gotten to participate in Creative Dig with no idea how very much you might have truly needed it or the weight of the baggage you had to carry there. I’m humbled.
I, too, love the picture of you holding the face in your hands.