Pollarded!

By Nature I Grow

Unfortunate I am to be

an old London street tree

planted at the turn of

the 20^th Century

 

Early years, Oh joy to recall!

Growing straight, standing tall

Branches reaching towards the sky

echoing, shape on shape.

 

The winds, when blowing through tested

my supple branches, trunk and roots.

I played with the air and threw joy around.

People passing through my summer shade,

admired my golden leaves in autumn,

my flowing winter skeleton.

I loved them, spoke to them

and they to me. Humans and tree,

comfort and joy to each other were we.

 

It started though, it was long ago.

I had fully grown by then,

and along came a group of men.

With ladders and ropes

they climbed in my branches.

 

Then the horror began.

 

Chop, saw

 

They pollarded me.

 

Early springtime that first year

I was in terrible pain and the sap ascending

to the tips I could still feel,

stopped at the sawn off stumps.

My roots and my heart could not connect.

My wounds smarted.

My anger and terror augmented

by my ugly tormented shape.

 

Somehow I managed.

By nature I grow.

Small twigs and shoots

got clothed with leaves.

 

 

That summer I healed and the

Autumn gold and red and yellow

soothed my soul.

I began to forgive and smiled again

at humans, as friends

 

Winter undress I felt rather sad

but I was proud, my recovery

was legend.

 

The Spring air returned and my soul

burned with life and newness….

 

but

 

Hells bells and buckets of blood!

They came back those men,

with their ropes and ladders.

They cut and hacked me back

to last years scars.

 

The shock this time was worse.

Unbelieving I cursed each

person as they walked by

and withdrew my care for the sun and the sky.

Dark anger and depression held me sway

and misery gripped me day by day.

 

By nature I grow

and grow I did.

New twigs and shoots, new Spring leaves.

Summer breeze and then Autumn winds

blew hollow through my frame.

No sway, no joy.

I never felt my feet again.

 

Each Spring the same,

again,

again.

 

The years have been many.

 

Now hatred takes my spirit

down streets at night and curses I spit

on humans who blight the bright

good earth.

 

 

The Radical Therapist

In the 1970’s in America, young trainee psychotherapists caught the mood of the time and declared a radical therapy movement and a journal of that name was produced and distributed locally and then in order to spread the message further afield they managed to persuade a publisher to take on a book with a variety of articles taken from their journals.

I believe the essence of the Radical Therapy movement caught on and spread and has by now become embedded. Basically they perceived the standard, often Freudian methodologies were elitist and could only reach the wealthy. The trainings were long and expensive if one wished to become a psychotherapist. Consequently fees were high and out of reach for ordinary folk. There was a desire to have therapy available for all! and a desire for therapies to be diverse and have relevance to all groups. They wanted many, many more therapists. Many, many more avenues to access and aid troubled minds and bodies. Feminism also in the mix.

I have the book, it came from America, a second hand much read paperback printed in the 70’s. I have dipped into it and found it in parts interesting and in parts heavy going. I shall refer to it again and again. I am glad to have a copy.

I am happy these people felt that way and their influence spread. I became a therapist with just one years training.

That was nearly twenty years ago and each year I do additional trainings to keep myself in the flow. I need to do this to be insured which means I can practice legally. I find myself in a fascinating therapeutic world and have made many valuable connections with other therapists. I am a body worker. Massage is my field, but I can call myself a therapist because of these young students in the 70’s.

Thanks guys (and girls)

I Became Me

I have survived multitudes of threats.

From the moment sperm met ovum

the struggle was on.

Drowsing while forming

was particularly alarming.

I thought at first I was a fish.

Then when I saw fingers I knew

something else was occurring.

I cried out in alarm

but there was just a thrum

as my ears started to hear.

Moments of magical peace

were interspersed

with horrendous squirming.

Pieces of me grew

and demanded a stretch

and I knew then

what I was to become.

All knowledge pressed into my brain.

I was a human.

I felt like burrowing

then my walls pushed in

and squeezed and squashed.

Such pain I will never feel again

because that intensity

would now surely kill me.

Exhausted and angry

as they pulled and slapped me

My shouts and my pleas

eventually ceased.

My inner self

was given birth.

Then I slept

and learnt dreaming.

The knowledge I had been given

turned into cellular action.

I saw the light

I felt the air

I knew that danger

would always be there.

So I stayed alert

and practiced with all my heart

so my talents would grow

and make me

capable

crafty and zestful

bide my time

and then as you see

I became me.

Memory escapes me

the days have been many

but I’ve survived this long

and I want to go on.

Each experience has shaped me

and the knowledge I was given

is still informing and unfolding

Appreciation is growing

of this gift I was given.

Mysterious future feels exciting

eternally beckoning….

I chose the name for my blog. Radical Therapist just popped into my head. Then I found there is such a thing as ‘Radical Therapy’ it arose out of the work of among other people Wilhelm Reich. Since I admire the work of WR I sought more info. and I’m waiting on ‘the book’.

By the way as a point of fact I am a massage therapist and body worker and I’m looking for more clients so I can pay my bills! Please see my website http://www.argentatherapies.co.uk and come and see me. My treatment room is in Hammersmith West London, convenient for tubes and buses. If you live in this area I can also do visits bringing my couch and accoutrements.

Once I have read and inwardly digested ‘the book’ I will comment here.

Have a good day and give a moment to show some love and respect to your very own unique and lovely self……

Coming at you with love.  Ginny.