Defining Moments: Platforms for the Storyteller

Have you ever had a defining moment, when something happens and suddenly you realise exactly what it is you are supposed to be doing with your life? I have had a fair few of them. They are like sign posts, guiding me to the next chapter of my story. 

When I look back, the first defining moment that I can remember, is when I was 5 years old, stood on the stage at the London Palladium with Ronnie Corbett, playing Buttons. 

I nagged and nagged my Mum to take me to the London Palladium and as luck would have it, on the night that we went, the producers selected children from the audience to come on stage and be part of the pantomime.  I'll be honest, there was no way on this earth that I was NOT going to get chosen! I put on my best smile and with a cheeky retort, got myself onto the stage. It was an experience that would shape my whole life. 

Ronnie spoke to us, one by one. He was so kind and generous with the stage, encouraging us to sing and recite nursery rhymes. Doubtless, he was ad-libing and in hindsight, likely making time for the costume change of Cinderella, who I could see as clear as day from where I had been placed. As I gazed back stage, I watched 3 people, one on a step ladder, all changing Cinders into an enormous frock.

All my life, I have thought the woman getting ready for the ball was Olivia Newton John, but it transpires I was wrong. Today I found out that it was in fact, Clodagh Rodgers, an Irish singer and actress, who worked alongside Ronnie on the Panto circuit for many years. But oddly, it wasn't this moment that shaped my future.

Whilst looking out from the stage, all I could see was complete darkness. Blinded by the bright lights, I became acutely aware of how the story of Cinderella made the audience feel. It was tangible. Every intake of breath, every gasp of awe, became a symbol of their collective presence. They were no longer an audience of many people, they responded to the story, as one.

By some kind of alchemy, the auditorium had forgotten all things, other than the story in front of them. They laughed at the same time, held silence at the same time; instinctively together, like a shoal of fish, becoming one being and I knew, in that moment, the importance of storytelling to the human experience and more succinctly, my role within it. 

Since that moment, and according to my Mum even before it, I have spent my every spare minute writing poems, short stories and songs, finding ways to share them with others in such a way that they are able to forget all things, other than the immediacy of now and  the collective presence of humanity.

I have every faith that The Universe is my Fairy Godmother. The challenge I set her is this: To unearth new, deaf, tinnitus & hyperacusis friendly platforms from which I can still be the storyteller, poet & songwriter that I have always been, since the day that I was born. Creating platforms that meet the needs of my new disability will not just benefit me. I will be trailblazing ways of creating potential platforms for others who have similar needs. (I can feel a fanfare coming ... )

For now, I will carry on making work, for my ink does not just write words; it is an integral part of my story.

Tinnitus: The Unwelcome Gift?

Tinnitus is a bit of a bugger. I'm not going to lie. It keeps me awake all night because once my hearing aids come out, it is much, much worse than when they are in, but I have to say, in the exhaustion, the fatigue, the endless hours laying awake with sirens blaring in my head, all manner of creative ideas, stories, poems and songs arrive from this bleak darkness. 

It's as if there are crocodile clips attached to my brain and I am fully wired, being charged up with electricity all night, whirring around my synapses in wild ribbons of tangled rainbows. And all of this activity carves a route, a network that leads me to the central cortex, where, laying in a precious casket, is the one truth of who I am ... 

In many ways, this extra thinking, extra over working brain, this sleepless, creative matrix, is a gift given to me by my tinnitus, though I wish she could give it to me more quietly. Perhaps sometimes, the one thing that destroys us, is the one thing that makes us stronger.

Out of this all consuming din, comes strength, love, resilience. Every atom of my body rallies together to send me healing in the form of these beautiful little stories and poems, mantra and songs. I am so grateful to my body, my heart and soul for this incredible rescue remedy, sending the mind stories, poems, songs and ideas to ease the pain.

Popular Facebook Live Bedtime Stories : The Sunflower

Friends, I share with you here, my popular FACEBOOK LIVE Bedtime Story, The Sunflower, taken from my new book 'Soul Seeds, Planting Heartfelt Stories'. You can find out more about my books and purchase them from HERE.

If you like my blog, why not add me as a chum on facebook . It is always lovely to see you.

WOMBSONG: The Embodiment of Self as Nature Intended

                                         Sound Icon, Bottom Right Corner of Video.

I am so excited to share with you my new video: a creative collaboration between myself and Embodiment Coach, Esther Arends from the Netherlands.

Esther Arends. Photo by Larry Lindahl

For those of you who regularly read my blog, you will know that I have been rebuilding my life since becoming suddenly deaf nearly 2 years ago, with tinnitus & hyperacusis. At first, I thought I would never be a musician again. This saddened me because I have composed music and written songs for my entire life. Slowly but surely, I have reconnected to ways in which I can still sing and play instruments.

My relationship with guitar started in a classroom hut, planted amongst the Wheatfields of our primary school in the 1970's, where a hippy inspired Mr Green took us down 'Streets of London' with his humming & strumming. I went home and persuaded my Mum that I needed a guitar and she saved up the child benefit allowance to scrape together enough money to get one for me. It never left my side. I have toured the world with subsequent guitars, performing in stadiums through to orphanages, wild adventures to acts of loving kindness.

Cheryl & her Guitar: Touring India

But complications with my hearing loss have made playing guitar nigh on impossible. When I change chords, the sound of the strings on the frets is so painful, that it becomes torture.

I missed my guitar and she missed me. She stopped smiling and so did I, until one day, I wondered how it would be, to find just one chord that did not trigger my sound distortion and play it gently, without changing chords at all. I sat for hours feeling the vibration of the guitar body against mine, a familiar friend back in my arms, and then it happened; out popped a melody and with it the words 'I can hear Mother Earth calling, I can hear my womb calling ... ' 

Reunited with my Strings

I ran upstairs to my studio and asked Jeff, my partner and sound engineer for 30 years, to turn on the microphone. It hadn't been used in such a long time. I knew I could only manage one live take, so however it came out, would be exactly how it was. 

Afterwards, I listened back to my one chord and humble vocal. I could hear in my heart, the beat of a drum, but I couldn't play to record it, as my  drum was too loud for my tinnitus and hyperacusis. I put a blanket over my drum skin and played with a muffled beater ... to be honest, I recorded it more with luck than judgment. Then I decided to record a second voice, this time using a voice I have 'found' in the facial cavaties ... it's very strange when I sing in this place because I can only really hear it through my hearing aids, which makes it feel somehow disconnected from me ... and so I visualise this voice travelling down through me, until it buries itself and me into the earth.

Musically, WOMBSONG is far from perfect, but there was something so honest about doing everything in one take, accepting that whatever came, simply is and being grateful for that. The feeling of being enough, however small or imperfect.

I finished the recording session and kept the song to one side. Slowly but surely, it has become part of a collection of humble offerings that I am recording when they sing out to me from my inner self.

www.estherarends.com

And then, this week, I connected with my facebook friend, Esther Arends, an Embodiment Coach from the Netherlands. She had shared on her wall, a beautiful little film that she had made on her iphone. I immediately fell in love with the organic nature of her capture; randomly, her filming preserved a moment of simply being, embodying the dance as if it were as natural as a blade of grass or a clover leaf. 

As I watched Esther's film in silence, inside I could hear my WOMBSONG. I played the 2 together ... it was so gentle, so magical that it made me weep, not with sadness but with the beauty of humanity; humans being themselves, without pretence. Esther's dance and my song had come from the same place.

So, I wrote to her and told her my story, asking her if we might collaborate. She listened to my little song alongside her film and felt the same way as I had. I was delighted. Esther sent me the film and I have edited us together, as one, so that you can watch it with us.

WOMBSONG as a collaboration, is the embodiment of humans just as nature intended. Random, free and beautiful. Thank you Esther, for your beautiful light. I'm so pleased to be here on Earth at the same time as you.

Chocolate for the Eyes & Soul : The Joys of Self Publishing

Writing stories and poems to lift the soul is one thing, typing them all up, formatting them, commissioning the artwork, discussing designs, the whole process of Self Publishing is a journey of love and dedication. I have run Parlour Press for 17 years, helping other people to write and publish ... And now, this week, I find myself with my own books finally in my hands. I cannot begin to tell you how remarkable it  feels.

Have you noticed that when you buy a mug from a potter, you can feel that potter's love every time you have a cup of tea. Well, it's the same with books. Yes, you can buy a mug in a supermarket for a couple of quid, but it's just not quite the same as knowing that someone has stayed awake, night after night, making an extension of them self, to gift you part of their being, so that you might be inspired by their story.

That's how it is for me. I am not just making books, I am making memories. I am planting heartfelt seeds within you, sharing stories that will stay with you, help you in darker times. Poems that you might share to lift the hearts of your little ones when they are a bit blue. Bite sized chunks of love, like chocolate for the eyes and the soul.

These are not stories to end up on shelves, but to be assimilated into your being to help you grow.

'Soul Seeds: Planting Heartfelt Stories' is a collection that has been sent to me from my inner being. I know that sounds out there, doesn't it, but it is my truth. Mostly, I woke up in the morning and found them recorded onto my phone during my sleep! 

The same with ‘Soul Ink for the Morning’. This beautiful little book has 100 poetic messages that I have awoken with. I open my eyes in the morning, and into my head pops just the right amount of hope to get me through my day and now, you can keep my book by your bed to help you in the mornings, too.

I can honestly say, that my writing has saved me, since becoming suddenly deaf and learning to live with tinnitus and hyperacusis, my stories and poems have lifted me, given me back hope and now I share that light with you. My heartfelt intention is to inspire hope in you, too. In fact, I promised the Universe I would do this; if she could see her way to helping me heal, then I would share that healing with others.

My 3rd little book may be the smallest, but ‘The Truth is in There’ will take you on a personal journey of divine meditation. Not only will you read the profound effect that meeting my inner child had on me, it will give you the tools to take yourself on a similar journey, if you so wish.

Just now, if you would like to buy my books, feel free to come to me direct on Facebook. I am still setting up the infra- structure for Sales. The reason I have waited is because I didn't know what the platform would be or look like, until I held the books in my hands. And now, I can feel them, take joy in them, this inspires the next step of the path we take together, my books and I.

I share with you here, an intimate moment, the morning I opened the boxes as they arrived from the postie. And remember, every time you buy a book from a self- published author, you can be assured that she is skipping around the house doing a happy dance.

It is always lovely to hear from you, feel free to drop me a line.