“The wound is the place where the Light enters you.”
As I always sit here in my favourite space, typing and thinking, I cant help but notice my hands as they dance upon the keyboard. I aIways thought I could never play an instrument but I now realise that when I write I am making my own kind of music and I kinda dig that!
Oh have these hands been places. Not only have they served me well but they also mark the scars of my past. Ever presently there they are. The scars that I once tried to hide, the scars that I would try ohh so hard to disguise. Long sleeved tops and polo necks pulled down, fearing what people would say were they to catch a glimpse of my scarred hands and arms. I went to so many great lengths to hide away those scars, not just the ones I see upon my hands today but the ones I held in my heart. “What will people think? Junky, I can hear them cry”, were the words that pursed my lips. But then one day something magic happened, I had a visit from little Viv. I went on a journey, a voyage of self discovery, if you will and oh how little Viv let me know that these scars were to be the stage I would stand upon. How these scars were my trophy and I, to be so proud to wear them. You see these scars remind me everyday , whether I put pen to paper, fingers to keyboard or mouth to mic. These scars remind me of the strong ass woman I have become and in fact always have been. But somehow I had forgotten. I had forgotton about my magic! My magic you ask…what else would you call it when one embarks on a trechourous journey that had doomed so many before. But somehow I had survived and was rewarded. And just like Dorothy getting her shoes, little Viv took my hands and said “Dont you realise Vivienne, these scars are your gift, they are here to remind you not only how far you’ve come but how far you’ve yet to go, but this time you won’t be going it alone, you’ll be bringing lots and lots of friends along with you. Because out in this world there a thousands just like you who need to be reminded that their struggles, strifes, pains, hurts and traumas can also be a story to be told, a vision to be created. They too must stand upon a stage and declare to the world that these scars may look ugly to you, but to me they are beautiful. They are a tattoo of hope, never to be hidden or ashamed of. So with sleeved rolled up I say I am Vivienne, scarred but beautiful. Now, its your turn.