Identify Invisible Frameworks + Free Class Today! #791

And the Muse said…

“You must be willing.

Willing to identify the invisible frameworks

Otherwise, you will never, ever….

know what you are looking at.

Or what frame you are looking through”

Red Thread Letter #791 from Shiloh Sophia

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Today I am sharing the next writing in my series, The Muse at the backdoor, inviting you to see your story through your own framework rather than someone else’s. We will be exploring this idea, and I will do a live reading of this writing on our call today – join us?
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Drama in a Dress and the Unseen

The Muse is at the back door tonight.

I have finished the dishes and the kitchen is clean.

I am having tea, alone in the kitchen, at last.

Or so I had hoped.

She stands at the door a while,

breathing on the windowpane

without knocking, daring me to look at her.

The dog is sniffing at the door now,

starting a low growl as he picks up her scent

which is certainly, danger.

She takes this as her cue,

crashing through the door like a storm.

The teacups rattle and the dog barks,

then he whines and lies at her feet.

My hair stands on end

and I shake my head at both of them.

I won’t look her in the eye

I don’t want to see,

what she wants to show me.

Then she starts in with her riddles

“Have you looked where you aren’t looking?

To see what you aren’t seeing?

To know what you aren’t knowing?”

She pauses for effect, drawing in her breath

She is drama in a dress made of feathers.

“Avoiding seeing will do you no good,

But you know this.

I don’t know why I bother to come here.

I only waste my time

on those willing to see the unseen.

Will you not say yes to seeing?”

“The unseen?” I say without looking up.

“You must be willing.

Willing to identify the invisible frameworks

Otherwise, you will never, ever….

know what you are looking at.

Or what frame you are looking through”

I breathe a ragged breath,

a sharp pain jabs into my ribs and I look up,

somehow startled, and realize

I have no idea what I am looking at,

and I know it.

No one who looks at the Muse

has any idea what they are really

looking at….but then…

I see her now, my eyes nourished

by her luminous presence.

Her dress made of feathers,

amber, pale gold, bronze and cloud white

She is trying to tell me something

I do not want to hear,

showing me something, I don’t want to see.

For the first time, I realize

the Muse is patient.

She sees me softening, she leans in,

I can feel her hot breath on my face.

The dog whimpers and thumps my feet

with his tail, saying, pay attention.

“Okay” I say. “I am willing”

Now I bring the red wine to the table

and offer us both a pour.

She lights a cigarette, even though

she knows we don’t smoke here.

She leans back and all the feathers

Move like tiny birds. There are even

feathers in that bird’s nest of hair

and more than a few twigs

with flowers blooming.

I wonder when the last time was,

that I put flowers in my hair?

Then she begins her tirade,

almost hissing on me as she speaks,

so fierce are the words she chucks

in my direction.

“You think the world works in a particular way,

Your views, your beliefs, your patterns,

Your stands, your strongholds, your taboos,

All are in need of a revision.”

“Well just tell it like it is, why don’t you?”

I say, whimpering a bit, feeling small.

“Would you really have it any other way?

That’s the problem with the lot of you,

middle-class milk headed self-sacrificing

muddle-hearted life-makers”

“You have resorted to calling names, I see”

“By any means necessary my dear.”

Her cigarette ash drops on the table

I decide to smoke with her,

I invite her outside.

We sit out on the back stoop together,

smoking, drinking wine, and silent.

Surprised, I realize I feel happy,

and I start to laugh,

long and full in my belly.

She laughs with me and it feels, so good.

She says “There is nothing wrong with your life.

What is wrong is how you think about your life.

Why look through a framework designed by others?

Why not find your own?

Not seeing the lens through which you look,

Is like not having your own life, but a life

you lend to others without your consent.

Boring. Boring. Boring. And frankly, dangerous.

Our world will never progress

If good women sleep.”

“I don’t know how,” I say

“That’s why I am here. I will show you.

I will be back another time, and when I do,

Be ready.”

“What’s ready?,” I ask

“Ready means you will have a giant canvas,

lots of paint, a brush as big as your fist,

and a long night with no interruptions.”

Then she is gone in a flash of feathers

and the rain begins to fall.

Perhaps the Muse brings her own personal weather.

And now I miss her. The rain soaks my clothes.

In the darkness of a wet night

I ask the question of questions,

“What am I not seeing?”

My soul stirs, opens one eye,

blinking from sleep.

Ah.

“Thank you Muse”

I whisper to the night.

I hear the owl hooting in response,

my heart is leaping

with something I feel in my body.

Could it be hope?

Owl means big changes.

Am I ready for big changes?

I am ready enough….

Because here in the darkness,

In the rain, I feel, alive.

This is the beginning of change.

~ Shiloh Sophia

From Muse at the Backdoor series 2020

Dear One,

Good Morning from California! I am about to begin filming for the day but wanted to share my morning writing with you. I start in the dark and watch the sunrise as I write. I write because it makes me feel alive. And when I share the Red Thread letters with you, I hope it sparks you, makes you laugh, question and wonder… and today on the Liberate call I will be reading the poem aloud.

Yesterday we opened Color of Woman 2020 with a feature on Storytelling with streaming to a few hundred women around the world. It was really exciting to invite the women to join me in stepping into their own voice. To choose to be the one people can call on to call circle. We were making an illustrated book of a story we wanted to tell to open a circle.

During the day I realized how wonderful it was that my god-daughter Ellah Rose was here with her mother, Michelle, experiencing her first Color of Woman gathering! Then Jena, watching the stream, sent a picture of Hazel, my other God-daughter who was making a book with us. To realize that the younger generation was with us, was a pure moment of joy I wanted to share with you.

Then Jassy, from Colour of Woman Australia, watching the stream from her gallery, and sent pictures of the women there with red thread. Telling story is a big part of our work in Intentional Creativity.

Two of my Matriarchal elders Lana Holmes and Pele Rouge were also there with us – talking story. Lana had a gift made for me, from an owl that was in the freezer – an owl we have illustrated for years, named, Owlie. Yes, my teacher Sue’s freezer was often filled with all manner of birds, fawn and frog. Now I had my very own smudge fan with one of the wings. She surprised me with it online, telling a story about Sue. Such good women I get to be with. Women, who are not sleeping. We are ‘woke’ enough.

Since I shared my story about the Muse with you, I will keep the letter more brief today. Next week I head to the United Nations to the Commission on the Status of Women, I will write to you next time from New York!

The road rises to meet me. I rise to meet the road. I am often more brave than I actually feel. Creativity and community is what gives me the courage. The root of the word, courage comes from the French word, for heart – le cœur heart, core, bosom, depth…May you find the courage you need to rise to meet the road ahead.

with love along the red thread,

Comment in the Red Thread Cafe Classroom for Women

Comment or Share from my Artist Shiloh Sophia page

STORYTELLER Intentional Creativity process from MUSEA: Center for Intentional Creativity in Sonoma, CA

LIBERATE: FREE Intentional Creativity® Class with Shiloh Sophia to catalyze YOUR OWN process of LIBERATION.

Join us and learn an Intentional Creativity® Discovery Model that you can use again and again for decision making and catalyzing change in your life. We will be applying this model towards liberating ourselves! Bring paper and pens!