She Be a Poet – Sacred Sage

Image credit: https://elenaray.photoshelter.com/image/I0000LWfnwNGGGBE

Sage burns in dank dark corners, my mind is set alight

Flickering, sparking, glowing; long into the night.

Sage speaks to me in wisdoms my ancestors got right,

Bold and brave philosophers, self-aware rational fight.

Sage smoulders in polluted air, it cleanses now I breathe,

Fragrant smoke it whispers, no more choking,

‘Arise my suffering knees.’

© Michelle Sotiriou 2019

So You Think You’re Ugly? Look Again!

So you think you’re ugly? Most of us do at some point in our lives and it seems age doesn’t really matter when you feel this way which is why I was guided to this video. A video which reminded me how I felt as a girl and adolescent. I could never take a compliment, could never look someone in the eye when they paid me one, didn’t believe them when they told me I was pretty and would always reply by saying, “No I’m not”.

The struggles of a Greek girl were real though! The mono-brow I wasn’t allowed to pluck and a hairy top lip, ginger in appearance after my cousins introduced me to bleaching; what a stunner!

The struggle still goes on but it is a little different. When a medical problem challenges you by changing the way you look even slightly, you have to find once more, the confidence to say ‘thank you’ after a compliment which you know deep inside to be honest and true.

I recently became the proud owner of a wonky eye, this is what I call it because I have to turn every hurdle into a joke and find that self-deprecation is my only medicine. It’s a coping mechanism which my friends and family know all too well. Luckily, I know my worth, wonky eye or no wonky eye I can still see out of it which is all that really matters and I am well past worrying about what others see when they look at me. What other people think of me is their business, not mine.

© Michelle Sotiriou 2015

The Tale of Two Wolves – Light & Shade

A close friend sent me a powerful message recently which a nutshell, describes the fight within people of all ages, cultures and sexes.

The Tale of Two Wolves is a poignant perception of the fight between good and evil, light and shade. As you watch this, you will be wondering where the story is heading and what long, drawn out answer you will be presented with calling for hours of complicated study making you busier than you already are (allegedly)

Trust me when I say that you will be surprised at the uncomplicated nature of this simply calm, yet wondrous Cherokee counsel.

© Michelle Sotiriou 2015

Give me a word, any word and I will show you the root of that word is Greek ~ Chromophobia

(Irrational fear or conditioned response to colour)

The Greek Cypriot in me occasionally awakens with words I have never heard of before; even though their existence has manifestations in many forms. It can take just one Grecian word to open a kaleidoscope of topics for discussion, debate and provocative thinking. The word Chromophobia was introduced to me by a dear friend who has made a career out of creating beautiful colours whilst changing perceptions in the process.

Maybe, you have an irrational fear of the colour green? Unable to eat your peas or any vegetable with a greenish hue for fear they will choke you. Perhaps red is the colour you avoid? I mean red is dangerous, isn’t it? It commands you to stop and forbids you to go there; wherever there may be. There are symptoms of Chromophobia and hate is one of them. Hate through fear, hate because Chromophobes see nothing but dark, foreign bodies and not the full spectrum.

Generally, we all see things in black and white, right and wrong. These views may be part of our genetic make-up, ideas without foundation from our teachers or peers; misguided without a full understanding of the global pallet and its variety of colours. If we choose not to live in colour the canvas will always be blank. If we choose to explore and understand, we lose the fear imbedded in our psyche long before we first opened our eyes to see complexions.

© Michelle Sotiriou 2015

She Be a Poet – Moonstruck

Something came over me, my emotions high

It struck me all of a sudden, super moon in the sky.

Blinded at first by foliage, green leaves and robust bark

My struggle to see super moon in the dark.

Fixed and undeterred, my feet unable to move

Toes stuck like needles in a revolving groove.

Transfixed my eyes are swaying, through clouds and pesky branches

I decide my fate is out there so I stand and take my chances.

Super moon had planned for me, a night spent by the window

Lovely and beguiling, I can hear the wind blow.

The clearing of the clouds made way, the brightest opal

Super moon appeared to me, I begin to fall.

I feel a pang a tingling in my mind, something’s about to change,

Moonstruck the voice arrives to me, through the wind, it calls my name.

© Michelle Sotiriou 2014