My Bold Truth

This is a response I posted today for a 10 day photography/writing class I’m part of. The prompt was “truth”.


Yesterday I came very, very close to dropping out of this class.

I started last week full of enthusiasm at the idea of growing and creating with both words and photography. Five days later, anxiety symptoms had returned and I was once again filled with self-doubt.  Surely, real depth came from darkness if I were to trust the vibes permeating the class. Most posted about their pain and struggles. Captures of moments of joy and light were few and far between, timid exceptions to a sad rule. “This is not my truth”, I thought, “not my tribe.”

Every human journey is unique, yet we all share the same pain and challenges through the simple facts that we breathe the same air and feel the same emotions. We all taste loss, unworthiness, and fear. We all, sooner or later, touch the bottom of our humanness. It teaches us about humility, compassion, and resilience.  But we also all hold the capacity for joy. I too walked the walk of the wounded, trapped in the pit of my own sorrow. I too created from that space when it was the only relief in sight. It made room for healing and new possibilities, and little by little, the light returned.

There’s power and nurturing in this light because it knows the darkness well and like roots planted deep in the soil need sunshine and rain to grow into all they can be, I now choose to create from that space of hope and love. Love for my journey, for myself, for you, for Life. I choose Joy. I choose to celebrate every moment I get to embrace who I am and be a grateful witness to all that life has to offer.

This is my truth and today I boldly stand up for it.

Maryse Godet Copans © 2015

Wildly,Horribly Irritating Mind (WHIM)


Back in the corner you go. You know the one. That’s what you get for deciding to write on a whim. Look at the lines on the wall and listen to those playing in your head: “Who needs another writer? What do you have to share that hasn’t been said before? Who do you think you are?” You love your mind, I know you do, it’s a beautiful tool and it’s saved you a few times from falling feet first into mouthfuls of embarrassment. And today is no different. It’s keeping you safe, aren’t you grateful? You’re not ready to show yourself. Don’t you feel better knowing the corner is there with its right angle?

It’s the wrong angle, you say? You choose to turn around and face the sky? You know who you are and it’s not your mind? You are bold!

You want to create with your Wonderfully, Happily Imaginative Muse. You want to let the voices in the corner speak and invite them to look at the view on the other side. You want to paint your walls all the colors of your experience and create a picture that others will be inspired by. You want to be seen and own your space, not to push others to seek refuge into their corners, but so that both your strength and fragility can become beacons of encouragement for all.

This is the perfect angle. For me. Right now.


Maryse Godet Copans © 2015

Writing again…?

This is a short entry I wrote as a response to a five why assignment for the Literati Writers’ online group led by Dave Ursillo. It feels like a cool way of re-entering the world of written creativity now that my two masterpieces have left the nest (yes, yes, my children). 

This morning I decided to join the Literati Writers. Why? Because in the last two days I have become an empty nester and I’ve been feeling the need for taking even the tiniest step towards my life as a new “long distance mom”. Why is that step important? Because it helps me shift the pity party into a pool of possibility. I may be a writer, I may not. Time will tell. But today, as I type these words, I’m reconnecting with a part of myself that’s been kept quiet as life immersed me in the art of motherhood instead. But today my shoulder hurts and if I’m to believe Dave, it means my creative self is asking for immediate attention. Why do I choose to actually pay attention? Because if I don’t I will end up like my mom who, after raising 6 children, lost all sense of direction once we moved out. She died many years later, a prisoner of dark thoughts and emptiness. In her name, I want to discover the joys of my second spring, with my heart leading the way and nothing to prove. Why am I following the joy? Because I’m not my mom but the love I feel for her demands I heal this pattern of fear and depression. To honor all the love she gave me. To honor myself. And to honor my daughter’s right to a bright life journey.