Note: April is Sexual Assault Awareness Month. This story is being included in hopes that it will be of help. If you need assistance, call the telephone hotline or local authorities.
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I began writing poetry when I was sixty-one years old. It happened by sheer chance (if there is such a thing). We were in Israel during my husband’s sabbatical from the University of Wisconsin – Madison, where he taught cello, and we both taught a Feldenkrais for Musicians course. I also took time off from my practice as a Feldenkrais practitioner at the University of Wisconsin Integrative Health program.
During our time in Israel, I decided to explore other mind-body modalities. I took a training in craniosacral therapy, and a course in Mind-Body Centering. Then someone suggested that I meet Yael Barkai, a movement therapist. I called Yael and said that I would like to meet with her to understand what Movement Therapy is. After that meeting, I decided to see her as a therapist for the remainder of our time in Israel. At one point, Yael suggested that I write something between our sessions. I said that words are not my expressive tool (I am a flutist in training), and I came back empty-handed to our next session, and the next one, and the next one. Then I realized that time was running out, and if I wanted to get the most out of our meetings, I should at least try to write. When I finally did write, a poem emerged, and then more followed.
Writing the first one hundred poems felt like a process of cleansing. The poems dealt with the aftermath of a molestation by a stranger at age five, and my devastation as I faced my mother’s (non) reaction when I told her about it at age eleven, when it resurfaced to my consciousness. I interpreted her silence as ‘this is so horrible that I can’t even share it with her’. That experience is depicted in my poem The Day My Mother Turned Her Back.
I sent a few of these poems to Yakir Ben Moshe, a poet and an editor, who wrote back saying that these are very strong poems, and that he would be happy to edit the collection. After the collection, titled Glass Girl, was accepted for publication by Pardes Publishing, I sent a couple more poems to Yakir, and asked him if it would be possible to add them to the book. His response was that I shouldn’t make any changes to Glass Girl, and that these poems would be part of the next book. My initial reaction was, “what next book”? Writing these poems was an incredibly therapeutic experience; I was grateful for the process, and I was done writing, I thought.
But more poems emerged. I realized that the process was not done. It continued with poems of confusion and denial on one hand, and a need to ‘break the code’ and know the truth, on the other. These poems were collected in my second book, In Lieu of Choking.
My third collection, And She Wasn’t Damaged: Poems for Speaker and Chorus, was written as a journal while I was in the midst of Internal Family System (IFS) therapy, which promotes encounters with our internal ‘parts’ (or sub-personalities) that are created throughout our life experiences. During therapy, after encountering a part (a very young me) who communicated what had happened to her, I realized that I was a victim of incest. The first poem in this collection describes that baby. There are many other parts who have their voices expressed in this collection; some are devastated, some are full of rage, and refuse to make peace, one demands proof, and another questions the benefit of the process itself. But there is a clear direction in this collection from grief and rage to hope and acceptance.
I strongly feel that during this period of discovering the real story of my life, poetry saved me from sinking deeper into despair. My emotions were overwhelming at times, and poetry allowed me to express them in their sheer rawness (sometimes shouting them as I was driving my car), while having to focus and attend to the sound and the structure. It was music that lost its abstraction, and that combination was empowering.
At a certain point during this process, I realized that this collection of poems is fundamentally different from my previous books. The different voices that were speaking through these poems needed more than to be written on a page. They needed a stage.
A few months after the collection was published, it was staged as part of the 2015 Ha’Ezrach Kan Festival for Social justice in Tel Aviv. In 2019 it was made into a video, which was featured at the annual One Billion Rising event in Tel Aviv in February 2020.
The English translation of And She Wasn’t Damaged, which was done in collaboration with Daphna Ben Yosef (1962-2021), includes an epilogue consisting of poems of acceptance, strength, trust, and hope, from my fourth collection, The Sea Is Your Witness. One poem in this collection corresponds to a poem in And She Wasn’t Damaged, and outlines the stark difference between the two collections:
Suddenly One Morning
Speaker:
Suddenly one morning / You realize the sham / With unthinkable dread
Suddenly one morning /You figure out your life / Wishing to be dead
Suddenly One Morning (2)
A victim no more, not done / Suddenly one morning / You rub your eyes and realize / Your life has just begun
No need to check the clock / Or the position of the sun / You know it’s not too late / To have another run
One of the poems I chose for the epilogue, The Ball of Shame, portrays the necessary and satisfying process of ridding myself of shame (at least to some degree) and putting it where it belongs – in the hands of the perpetrator.
The Ball of Shame
The ball of shame / That crushed my heart / Smashed my ribs / Paralyzed me with fears
The ball of shame / That stuck in my throat / Pecked my eyes out / Tore and deafened my ears
No longer will it be a source of scare / No longer clad in armor will I crawl back to my lair
I will catch and hold it / Look it in the eye / Then hand it back over / Farewell and Goodbye
The Hebrew version of And She Wasn’t Damaged is used in Israel by therapists who work with victims of sexual abuse. I hope the English translation will help more survivors of sexual abuse in North America and in other parts of the world, to find their voice, and will help them on their healing path.
My latest collection, When the Moon Listened, was published by Pardes Publishing in 2022. The poems in this collection emerged during meditation used in distance healing, which is one of the mind/body modalities I have added to my ‘tool kit’ since becoming a Feldenkrais Practitioner. These poems no longer deal with my own pain, doubt, shame, and my healing path, but were inspired by those I helped, and in numerous instances they played a role in their healing process.
Healing is a life-long process, and I don’t know what encounters and experiences are awaiting me at the next turn on this path. Last year I had a vivid reminder that not seeing myself as a victim any longer is not enough. There is more to learn about myself if I want to be of help to myself and others. After that reminder, I wrote the following poem:
Halfway There
I drew a card / Before reading the instructions / A mountain lion / Which I dismissed / I was astounded / Unconvinced
Two months passed / I decided to learn it / But one last time / Simple and straight / I drew a card / That changed my fate
I looked at the lion / This time it was clear / You are no longer a victim / So I hear / He called from the peak
But you are only halfway here
I try to stay open and aware as my path continues to reveal itself, and I hope this depiction of how chance encounters and unexpected challenges can lead to the next level of discoveries on the way to growth, will be helpful to another traveler one day.
About Hagit Vardi: Hagit Vardi trained as a flutist and later in different modalities of healing arts. For the past twenty years, Hagit has been helping people as a Feldenkrais practitioner (including at the University of Wisconsin Integrative Health program) and has been teaching Feldenkrais for Musicians courses and workshops with her husband, Uri Vardi. In her sixties, Vardi started writing poetry as part of her healing process. She has published five books of poetry in Hebrew with Pardes Publishing. Her poems were published in newspapers, literary magazines and on the radio, and attract attention among mental health professionals and the centers of assistance for victims of sexual abuse. And She Wasn’t Damaged is available wherever books are sold, including Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and your local, independent bookstore.