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A New Path

Part 3:
A New Path

The Abyss
The Flame
Thank you
In a Safe World
Good News of Me
Dear God
My Father
My Father's House
Woman? .... Mother? Sculpture

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Woman? Mother?

I created this sculpture from clay about a year after I began my recovery. After all this time, she still plays an important part in my life, and is prominently displayed in my home.

She is no longer a reminder to me of the physical pain and the kaleidoscope of emotions that I experienced in recovery. Now she represents so many more aspects of the journey that I have traveled, and for which I have found sincere gratitude.

This woman is solid and strong, not feminine, and her lack of arms shows the extent of her own dysfunctions. She herself is a misfit, and is ill at ease in this world.

She is a woman who cannot touch or hug her children - how can she with no arms? I have learned that this is the fate of some mothers; they cannot provide the nurturance that children need. We can only accept this fact, grieve our loss, and eventually move on.

When I created her children, I felt so sad for the child who had already turned away, thinking the others clutching her still had hope. In time, I came to understand that the child who turned away had accepted the loss, and had begun to grieve. This child would survive.


I did not plan to give this woman two heads, so I can only assume my hands were guided by a force inside me. This part of the woman displays the emotions that her blank and benign face do not. This part of her is strong, though she tries to keep it hidden. I can feel the fears and anger and hopelessness there.

There is almost a maleness in this part of her - the anima and the animus? the feminine and the masculine? Could she help being who she was or how she was?

I've come to accept that she could not. Since I could not change the past, it was up to me to change how I looked at the present.

I wished, with all my heart, that I could peel off those clinging children, and love them and keep them safe. Over time, maybe I have since I no longer hear their cries in my dreams.

The child who has turned away does survive. Without knowing it at the time, I created a major part of myself in this child. The path to adulthood for this child could not be measured in years or age - healing has little to do with birthdays and everything to do with reparenting these hurting and abused parts of our inner self.

Healing happens, even though following this winding path is not easy and it is covered with rocks and twisting vines and thorny branches. As long as we keep our faith, we are not alone....along the way, there are special people to support us and a loving God to guide us.

A Journey in Faith
was created 2001

Copyright 2001,2011 Journey in Faith. All rights reserved.