One night, back in 1992, a nightmare rocketed me out of a deep sleep. I awoke sweating and trembling in terror, shaken to my core.

Wrapped in only a thin, black nightgown, I had stood, burning in agony within a blaze, the flames leaping all around me. And I had nowhere to run.

Awake, I knew I had to face this dark part of my soul, the part that was trying to heal from the negative feelings that came with facing my life situation. Part of me wanted to bury all the hurt, pain, negativity, and darkness, but suppressing it would never work. Inwardly, I would burn to death if I tried.

There was fire all around me.

I asked myself, what did I do to create this within my being? Why did I feel bad about speaking up for myself? Was there something wrong with me for daring to be brave and advocate for myself?

Or was the source of my self-doubt outside of me, in the lack of understanding and inability to see and hear me and my truth, on the part of the so-called experts, who discounted me and made me feel less than others, who dismissed me as a human being trying to better myself, my situation, and to fit into this world?

While alone and defenseless, in this dismal emptiness, I rose to my feet as a new me. The fight to live the life I wanted as an educated professional, my war with the California State Department of Rehabilitation, helped me become the person I am today. My subconscious self emerged from the nightmare with a fresh voice and strength.

The poem below symbolizes how facing my darkest moments changed my character and my life. I did it in the face of adversity and by myself. If I can do it, you can do it, too. And, of course, I will be here for you.

LEAVES OF STILLNESS

The night
Knocked at my window
Haunting me
With a black shroud and
Carrying my body to that
Cold, barren tree
Which covered me
With bronze, burnt
Leaves of stillness

Oh
I cried!

Time tip-toed by,
Leaving me
Lonely and defenseless
Only to see myself
Through my own
Desolate attitude!

This poem was written in 1984, when I was told I could not continue my education. That is, I could not attend college.

I was destroyed. Heartbroken. I felt like I had nothing left of my life—nothing else to give myself or to others.

I had worked hard to break through every barrier. Yet, no one wanted to guide me or acknowledge what I had done or what I could accomplish. They didn’t recognize who I really was or the good I could offer. Nor did they want to listen to my words and the importance of what I said. They would not give me the opportunity, much less the support I needed to fulfill my very achievable dreams.

What would happen to me? Was I going to rot my life away? Was I going to end up in an institution because the IQ test could not measure my intelligence correctly? Sadly, this test can’t measure the IQ of a person like me, someone with dyslexia.

How would I care of myself? How would I live on my own and pay for food, rent, and utilities? How would I survive after my mother died?

I was a grown woman by then, thirty-four years old. It took me five years. Even after I won my suit against the State of California to get my Associate of Arts degree, and I got it with honors, but most people at that age already have degrees. By then, they probably have two or more and hold positions in the field of their choice. and I had five more years to go.

All the so-called experts looked at me as if I were inferior, a box of produce damaged in shipment, but I had to make something of myself. When the California State Department of Rehabilitation deemed me mentally retarded for the third time, I knew they would not help me.

I had worked my whole life for what? Nothing, not even to give to others like I desired. The experts kept shattering my dreams. One counselor, who was deaf, mute, and without compassion, told me I had scattered thoughts. That was how he interpreted my variety of interests, but they were all normal interests, such as dancing, listening to music, reading poetry, and wanting a career in fitness.

At that moment, I felt destroyed. I felt like the ruins of the Parthenon. How was I going to rebuild my life? How was I going to become that person I so desperately wanted to be?

I was nothing more than a shell. I had nothing to look forward to. I had no reason to live, no purpose to wake up for. So I made a reason each day.

Another counselor asked me how I could teach dance with CP and only one functioning arm. One counselor believed in me, but after working with me for three years, he accepted a promotion and left me behind. No one else worked with me or gave me a chance to prove myself. I was hung out to rot with a Social Security check and told I would earn more on SSI than by working. I had no tools at hand to reach my goals and no hope of making my life happen.

In those days, there were no agencies to lend support with compassion to people with disabilities. I day-dreamed of becoming a recreation director and dance teacher. When I told them, the experts all looked dazed with disbelief. Like I could never amount to anything.

But, even though I felt helpless, and no one helped me, I had a fire in my belly. Deep in my inner spirit, I found strength and began rebuilding my life. I found my voice and self. I moved heaven and earth and won a lawsuit that opened the doors to higher education for all disabled people in California, thus changing my life forever. The process of claiming my own right to an education became a way for me to help others, not just myself.

The image of these ruins gave me strength and an inner power that none of those experts in the field could find it in their souls to give. I gave it to myself. I couldn’t give up on myself.

With all my will and power, I searched and found a flicker of light. I kept going and found reasons to keep going. You can, too.

GREEK PARTHENON

My life
Is like the Greek Parthenon
Standing in its own
Ruins
Empty
Never to be built again!

One day back in 2010, I wrote this poem about all the times I have wanted to lay my head back in a warm tub of lavender bubble bath and melt away all my worries and woes.

I wanted to close my eyes, feel my breath, and rest in tranquility. I wanted to lie there in the solitude of my own being with the soft sounds of music and melodies, drifting me to a place of perfect harmony.

GENTLE IMAGININGS

My bath is a quiet place
Where I can rest,
And gain some sweet repose

In peaceful thoughts
Which sooth my soul
And quiet relaxing music
To drift far, far away!

I stretch out my feet
And close my eyes, listening
To sweet melodies!

And now
That I
Am all alone
Totally, and absolutely all alone,
I can regain my
Perfect harmony!

In 2009, when I met someone who would become a dear friend and colleague, I wrote this poem. I knew, when I was introduced to him, that he was not like many other people I had met in publishing. He truly was a reflection of my self. He was a reflection of my consciousness.

I could tell he was kind. He didn’t put on fronts like others had. I knew My God brought him into my life for a reason, and he has made my life sweet and happy like the fruit on the vine.

FRUIT OF THE VINE

Friends like you
Come once in a lifetime!

Friends like you
Are one of a kind!

Friends like you
Share openly
All the time!

But most importantly,
My friend,
Your heart is divine!

As the One Almighty knew
What kind of person you were
So he brought us together
Only to sweeten the
Fruits of the vine!

FLOWER GARDEN

Somewhere between 1983 and 1985, I wrote this poem.

Again, despite all the tears brought on by grueling life lessons, pain, and worry about how to prove myself to all humanity, I let go and wrapped myself in warm, quiet affirmations. Their words sustained my beating heart. I’m a writer, and I’m a poet, so words not only mean a lot to me, they healed my life.

To find solace, I thought daringly, and opened my heart center. I let go on a deeper level. To liberate myself, I delved further into my distress and lovingly escaped the overwhelming negative thoughts. I walked through a gateway into a new way of living.

Let me tell you about Science of Mind, Louise Hay, and Dr. Wayne Dyer, and their effect on my life. I began my study in 1975, when I was 25 years old.

In my gut, I knew I needed a way, a method, to stay and remain positive through everything I faced then. I knew I needed more of something. I did not want to continue living with the dysfunctions I grew up amid.

I did not want to continue my eating disorder, eating and obsessing about food and what others thought. I wanted a gentle, loving peace within myself and a way to face my emotions without eating over them.

I did not want to kill myself by eating over every emotion I felt, and I wanted to free myself from my fear of food, which my allergic reactions had given me.

I heard about Science of Mind from my Overeaters Anonymous sponsor. After talking with her, I looked up the closest Church of Religious Science and drove to that Sunday’s services. I attended, and when they announced a new session of classes, I signed up immediately.

Beyond that, I needed to build a stronger spirituality and resilience, so I could get through the issues in this lifetime of mine. I didn’t want to be the disabled person who has a sign on her chest saying… look at me, I’m disabled. I also didn’t want people to pity me. I wanted to fit into the world and hold my head high. I wanted to be strong emotionally, spiritually, and mentally.

Besides music, dance, and the arts, I needed to be me and unashamed. With my genuinely sweet and sincere nature, I wanted to expand my horizons by going to my girlfriend’s Lutheran church. I did not want to feel guilty because my mother believed I was a bad Jewish girl if I went to a Christian service.

At my core, I wanted to learn, to become healthy-minded and well-rounded. I did not want to carry my parents’ and grandparents’ unhealthy history with me. I wanted to attract healthy people, and hopefully, a husband.

I wanted to travel and experience life with no one hovering over me.

I went to Science of Mind on my own, because of my thirst to learn and grow as a disabled person with pride. To live and thrive, to hold intelligent conversations, and be like any other able-bodied person was my goal. I wanted to fit into the world with a sense of worth, dignity, and pride in giving to others what I learned.

I experienced this firsthand and found that my God is everywhere I am.

GATEWAY AHEAD

The sun shines for me,
Despite the tears fallen from me.

I wrap myself in a warm, comforting affirmation!
I do not worry!
I look straight ahead,
As I walk toward that invisible gate!

Original text ©2024 by Karen Lynn-Chlup. All rights reserved. Images are original photographs by Karen Lynn-Chlup and ©2024. Content of the images belongs to Louise Hay and Dr. Wayne Dyer.

Ebbing Away

Here is another poem from a relationship I thought could stand the test of time. But it didn’t.

After college in 1985, I thought, maybe, just maybe, this time things would work out. Maybe this time, this relationship would be strong enough to endure what relationships throughout the universe face—the challenge of lasting.

Sure enough, it didn’t. The signs were there, flashing before my eyes, confirming that this person was unable to handle me as the human I was. He wanted me for one thing and one thing only. And that was not what I wanted. I wanted to be loved and accepted for myself, not just for my outer appearance.

Sure enough, understanding this was like the sun shining over my shoulder, clear and real. I saw it all crystal clear. It was obvious. This man wasn’t for me. But I came away with my self-respect intact, and with a lovely poem.

EBBING AND FLOWING

Like two ships on a vast sea
Our paths meet

We unite with a very
Special union!

Oh, my darling,
Can you see all the secrets
That we have shared
On this roiling ride?

Ebbing and flowing
With each current
And every tide!

Always with a deep, inner strength
And breath that endures
Its turquoise sea.

What’s more!
My love,
You are the only one for me!