{"id":19755,"date":"2016-03-24T20:26:36","date_gmt":"2016-03-24T19:26:36","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/maihua.fr\/?p=19755"},"modified":"2016-03-24T21:49:15","modified_gmt":"2016-03-24T20:49:15","slug":"melissa-unger-the-good-and-the-whole","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/archives.maihua.fr\/fr\/2016\/03\/melissa-unger-the-good-and-the-whole\/","title":{"rendered":"Melissa"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>Parfois, on commence \u00e0 tirer un fil, un cheveu, puis se d\u00e9roule petit \u00e0 petit, une pelote dont on ignorait l&#8217;existence, le volume, la mati\u00e8re, la couleur. Merci pour tous vos commentaires concernant la vid\u00e9o sur&nbsp;<a href=\"http:\/\/maihua.fr\/2016\/03\/melissa-unger\/\" target=\"_blank\">Melissa<\/a>. Je l&#8217;ai revue lundi dernier pour notre <a href=\"http:\/\/maihua.fr\/2016\/01\/20-ans-a-seymour\/\" target=\"_blank\">atelier 20 ans<\/a> (c&#8217;\u00e9tait encore tellement beau&#8230; j&#8217;esp\u00e8re qu&#8217;on en fera d&#8217;autres). Elle me disait &#8220;Mai, depuis que j&#8217;ai vu la vid\u00e9o, j&#8217;ai jet\u00e9 tous mes v\u00eatements, je ne me reconnais plus en blonde&#8230; en fait, &#8220;je&#8221; suis brune. Je &#8220;dois&#8221; repasser me refaire&nbsp;brune!<\/p>\n<p>&#8230;<\/p>\n<p>Mai, penses tu que QUE JE SUIS EN PLEINE DEPRESSION?!!!&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>Alors je lui dis non, qu&#8217;elle devrait y&nbsp;aller. Que \u00e7a allait&nbsp;\u00eatre un gros bouleversement (10 ans de blondeur tout de m\u00eame) mais qu&#8217;elle est pr\u00eate, qu&#8217;une partie d&#8221;elle&#8221; le r\u00e9clame&#8230; NOW! que l&#8217;autre a s\u00fbrement peur mais qu&#8217;elle n&#8217;en mourra pas.<\/p>\n<p>Alors, au moment o\u00f9 une partie du monde nous rend triste, comment peut on vraiment parler de coloration?!<\/p>\n<p>et bien j&#8217;ai d\u00e9couvert son post fb, \u00e9crit au saut du lit ce matin :<\/p>\n<p><em>Melissa est am\u00e9ricaine, ceci est une traduction en fran\u00e7ais de son post mais pour les anglo-friendly vous avez la version originale plus bas dans la traduction en anglais de ce billet&nbsp;<\/em><\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Apr\u00e8s l\u2019exp\u00e9rience de la vid\u00e9o de ma transformation, il m\u2019est arriv\u00e9 quelque chose de surprenant. Un foss\u00e9 s\u2019est ouvert en moi, une fissure dans mon \u00ab&nbsp;moi&nbsp;\u00bb. Ce fut comme si soudain je me regardais vraiment pour la premi\u00e8re fois depuis tr\u00e8s longtemps&#8230; Il me semble que cela fait 10 ans environ, peut-\u00eatre \u00e0 l&#8217;\u00e9poque o\u00f9 mon p\u00e8re est mort et o\u00f9 j\u2019ai appris que je ne pourrais pas avoir d\u2019enfants. Je m\u2019\u00e9tais inconsciemment cr\u00e9\u00e9 un personnage de protection. Elle \u00e9tait blonde, grande, affirm\u00e9e, elle n\u2019avait peur de rien. \u00ab&nbsp;Moi-blonde&nbsp;\u00bb a \u00e9t\u00e9 une tr\u00e8s bonne amie pour moi cette derni\u00e8re d\u00e9cennie, elle m&#8217;a aid\u00e9 \u00e0 construire Seymour, \u00e0 faire face \u00e0 beaucoup de mes craintes dans la vie, dans le travail, dans l&#8217;amour. Mais sa force m&#8217;a \u00e9galement emp\u00each\u00e9 de vivre librement certaines des facettes les plus importantes de la vie &#8211; la vuln\u00e9rabilit\u00e9 par exemple. Comme je regardais la merveilleuse vid\u00e9o de Mai, j&#8217;ai vu aussi quelqu&#8217;un d&#8217;autre sous les cheveux blonds d\u00e9color\u00e9s et le rouge \u00e0 l\u00e8vres rose. Je vis mon moi adolescente accroupie dans un coin de mon \u00e2me. Derri\u00e8re la fa\u00e7ade d\u2019une femme confiante, vivait une adolescente. Une adolescente qui se sentait laide, gauche, tra\u00eenant des pieds, honteuse. Toutes ces ann\u00e9es plus tard, je ne l\u2019avais pas encore exorcis\u00e9e&#8230; Il est grand temps. Hier, j\u2019ai teint mes cheveux en brun fonc\u00e9 &#8211; ma couleur naturelle. Ce fut une violente exp\u00e9rience \u00e9motionnelle. Quand je me regarde dans le miroir aujourd&#8217;hui avec mon nouveau \/ vieux brun fonc\u00e9&#8230;je fronce les sourcils&#8230; mon reflet me propulse \u00e0 l\u2019\u00e9poque o\u00f9 j\u2019\u00e9tais une jeune fille un peu perdue et une vague de panique et de d\u00e9go\u00fbt de soi monte en moi&#8230; Pourtant, j\u2019ai \u00e9t\u00e9 pouss\u00e9e par sa voix \u00e0 le faire. C\u2019est comme si mon moi adolescent m\u2019invitait \u00e0 m&#8217;aimer comme je suis&#8230; Enti\u00e8rement &#8211; sans artifice, sans masque. Si je vous \u00e9cris ceci aujourd&#8217;hui ce n\u2019est pas par vanit\u00e9 ou nombrilisme, mais plut\u00f4t comme une exploration ouverte de l&#8217;identit\u00e9, de la v\u00e9rit\u00e9. Je crois que la v\u00e9rit\u00e9 partag\u00e9e avec une intention positive ne peut que produire de la compassion et am\u00e9liorer la connexion humaine. Sur les r\u00e9seaux sociaux, nous nous cr\u00e9ons des personnages, nous projetons le meilleur de nous-m\u00eames. Je pense que j\u2019avais commenc\u00e9 \u00e0 faire pareil par inadvertance, dans la \u00abvraie vie\u00bb aussi. Devenue, vers la fin, un personnage \u00absuper moi\u00bb&#8230; toujours de bonne humeur, forte, audacieuce&#8230; mais je me demande \u2026 que deviennent les parties rejet\u00e9es? Celles honteuses, moins-que-parfaites? Dans mon cas, mes nouveaux cheveux bruns sont l\u00e0 pour me dire que ces parties ne peuvent pas \u00eatre ignor\u00e9es &#8230; Mises \u00e0 l\u2019\u00e9cart, elles trouveront des mani\u00e8res \u00e9tranges pour attirer l&#8217;attention, et si leurs clameurs sont ignor\u00e9es elles vont s\u2019envenimer, c\u00e9der place au malaise, \u00e0 la tristesse et parfois m\u00eame \u00e0 la col\u00e8re. Ma question \u00e0 moi-m\u00eame ce matin est la suivante: si les diff\u00e9rents \u00ab&nbsp;moi&nbsp;\u00bb-s \u00e0 l&#8217;int\u00e9rieur de moi ne peuvent pas se r\u00e9unir harmonieusement sans jugement et dans l&#8217;acceptation, quel espoir reste-t-il pour le plus grand monde? Notre plan\u00e8te est actuellement tellement fractionn\u00e9e, bris\u00e9e en une myriade de morceaux contradictoires. Les probl\u00e8mes sont si grands, les failles \u00e9normes. Mon esprit se d\u00e9bat constamment pour trouver des r\u00e9ponses sur la fa\u00e7on d\u2019aider le monde \u00e0 gu\u00e9rir. Ce matin, la r\u00e9ponse est venue: &#8220;Commence par toi-m\u00eame&#8221;. <a href=\"https:\/\/www.facebook.com\/hashtag\/Love\">#Amour<\/a> <a href=\"https:\/\/www.facebook.com\/hashtag\/Truth\">#v\u00e9rit\u00e9<\/a> <a href=\"https:\/\/www.facebook.com\/hashtag\/vulnerabilty\">#vuln\u00e9rabilit\u00e9<\/a> <a href=\"https:\/\/www.facebook.com\/hashtag\/teamhuman\">#teamhuman<\/a><span class=\"text_exposed_show\">&#8220;<\/span><\/p>\n<p>Prenez soin de vous. Commencez par vous-m\u00eame&#8221; et quand je dis &#8220;vous&#8221;, c&#8217;est aussi, parce qu&#8217;il y a parfois plusieurs &#8220;vous&#8221; en vous. une partie qui pleure, qui a peut \u00eatre 20 ans, qui a peut \u00eatre 4 ans, qui a peut \u00eatre votre \u00e2ge. une partie mentale, une partie \u00e9motionnelle, un int\u00e9rieur, un physique&#8230; etc, un &#8220;vous&#8221; qui&nbsp;peut \u00eatre&nbsp;sanglote. Quelque part. C&#8217;est un chemin, parfois violent, parfois difficile, mais on ne fait jamais rien pour rien.<\/p>\n<p>Nous reviendrons sur ce petit post-it, film\u00e9 chez Melissa. Cette citation &#8220;Do you want to be good or whole?&#8221; de C.G. Jung nous a \u00e9t\u00e9 souffl\u00e9e par la m\u00eame personne. et \u00e7a a chang\u00e9 ma life. il y a peu.<\/p>\n<p>Je vous embrasse tr\u00e8s tr\u00e8s fort.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>Sometimes it begins with a thread that you pull, a hair that unfolds&nbsp;slowly, a ball which we knew nothing about; its size, material, color. Thank you for all your comments on the <a href=\"http:\/\/maihua.fr\/2016\/03\/melissa-unger\/\">Melissa<\/a>&#8216;s video. I saw her last Monday for our <a href=\"http:\/\/maihua.fr\/2016\/01\/20-ans-a-seymour\/\">20 years workshop<\/a> (it was so so beautiful &#8230; I hope we will be able to make more workshops). She told me&nbsp;: &#8220;Mai, since I saw the video, I threw all my clothes away, I do not recognize myself as a blonde anymore&#8230; in fact, I am a brunette. I have to be, to dye my hair brown!<\/p>\n<p>&#8230;<\/p>\n<p>Mai, do you think I&#8217;M FALLING&nbsp;INTO DEPRESSION? !!! &#8221;<\/p>\n<p>Then I said no, that she should go for it. That it will be a dramatic change (she&#8217;s been blond for 10 years) but that she is ready, a part of &#8220;her&#8221; demands it &#8230; NOW! and that the other part is surely scared but she will not die.<\/p>\n<p>So, when we grieve a part of the world, how can we possibly talk about hair color ?!<\/p>\n<p>And then I found her Facebook post, written out of bed this morning&nbsp;:<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&#8220;After my make-over video experience, something surprising happened. It created a rift in me, a crack in my sense of self. It was as if I was suddenly looking at myself for the first time in a long time&#8230;It seems to me that maybe 10 years or so ago, perhaps around the time my father died and I found out that I couldn&#8217;t have kids, I subconsciously created a protective persona. She was blonde and big and bold, afraid of nothing. Blond Me has been a very good friend to me this p<span class=\"text_exposed_show\">ast decade, she helped me build Seymour, face many of my fears in life, in work, in love. But her strength also kept me from openly experiencing some of life&#8217;s most important facets &#8211; vulnerability for instance. As I watched Mai&#8217;s wonderful video I also saw someone else under the bleached blond hair and pink lipstick. I saw my adolescent self crouching in a corner of my soul. Under the confident middle-aged exterior still roamed a teenager. A teenager who felt ugly, awkward, lumbering, ashamed. All these years later, I still haven&#8217;t exorcised her&#8230;It&#8217;s high time. Yesterday, I dyed my hair back to dark brown &#8211; my natural color. It was a brutal, emotional experience, when I look in the mirror today with my new\/old dark brown hair&#8230; I wince&#8230;my reflection slams me back in time to the lost girl I was and a wave of panic and self-loathing rises within me&#8230; Yet I was pushed by her voice to do it. It&#8217;s as if Adolescent Me was inviting me to love her, inviting me to love myself as I am&#8230; Entirely- without artifice, without masks. I am writing this today not out of vanity or self-absorption, but rather as an open exploration of identity, of truth. I believe that truth shared with positive intention can only breed compassion and enhance human connection. On social media we create personas of our best selves, I think I had inadvertently begun doing that in &#8216;real life&#8217; too. Inhabiting of late, a persona of &#8216;super me&#8217;&#8230;always in a good mood, strong, bold&#8230;but I wonder&#8230; what happens to the discarded parts? The shameful ones, the less than perfect? In my case, my new brown hair is here to tell me that these parts can&#8217;t be ignored&#8230;left untended they will clamor in odd ways for attention, and if not heeded will surely fester, give rise to dis-ease, sadness and sometimes even anger. My question to myself this morning is this: If the various selves within me can&#8217;t come together harmoniously in non-judgment and acceptance, what hope is there for the greater whole? Our planet is currently so fractioned, broken into myriad conflicting pieces. The problems so big, the rifts so enormous. My conscience grapples constantly for answers on how to help the world to heal. This morning, the answer came: &#8220;Start with yourself.&#8217;&nbsp;&nbsp;<a class=\"_58cn\" href=\"https:\/\/www.facebook.com\/hashtag\/love?source=feed_text&amp;story_id=10153981969775750\" data-ft=\"{&quot;tn&quot;:&quot;*N&quot;,&quot;type&quot;:104}\"><span class=\"_58cl\">\u202a#\u200e<\/span><span class=\"_58cm\">love\u202c<\/span><\/a>&nbsp;<a class=\"_58cn\" href=\"https:\/\/www.facebook.com\/hashtag\/truth?source=feed_text&amp;story_id=10153981969775750\" data-ft=\"{&quot;tn&quot;:&quot;*N&quot;,&quot;type&quot;:104}\"><span class=\"_58cl\">\u202a#\u200e<\/span><span class=\"_58cm\">truth\u202c<\/span><\/a>&nbsp;<a class=\"_58cn\" href=\"https:\/\/www.facebook.com\/hashtag\/vulnerabilty?source=feed_text&amp;story_id=10153981969775750\" data-ft=\"{&quot;tn&quot;:&quot;*N&quot;,&quot;type&quot;:104}\"><span class=\"_58cl\">\u202a#\u200e<\/span><span class=\"_58cm\">vulnerabilty\u202c<\/span><\/a>&nbsp;<a class=\"_58cn\" href=\"https:\/\/www.facebook.com\/hashtag\/teamhuman?source=feed_text&amp;story_id=10153981969775750\" data-ft=\"{&quot;tn&quot;:&quot;*N&quot;,&quot;type&quot;:104}\"><span class=\"_58cl\">\u202a#\u200e<\/span><span class=\"_58cm\">teamhuman\u202c<\/span><\/a>&nbsp;&#8220;<\/span><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>Take care of yourself. Start with yourself and when I say &#8220;you&#8221;, it\u2019s because there are sometimes several &#8220;you&#8221;s in You. A &#8220;you&#8221; who is crying. Who may be 20 years old, who may be 4, or who may be your actual age. A mental &#8220;you&#8221;, an emotional &#8220;you&#8221;, internal, physical, etc&#8230;, a &#8220;you&#8221; who is sobbing right now. Somewhere. This is a path, it is sometimes violent, other times difficult, but every step matters.<\/p>\n<p>We will come back to this little post-it, filmed at Melissa\u2019s place. This quote &#8220;Do you want to be good or whole&nbsp;?&#8221; of C.G. Jung has been revealed to us by the same person. And it changed my life. A few time ago.<\/p>\n<p>Yours warmly and deeply.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Parfois, on commence \u00e0 tirer un fil, un cheveu, puis se d\u00e9roule petit \u00e0 petit, une pelote dont on ignorait l&#8217;existence, le volume, la mati\u00e8re, la couleur. Merci pour tous vos commentaires concernant la vid\u00e9o sur&nbsp;Melissa. Je l&#8217;ai revue lundi dernier pour notre atelier 20 ans (c&#8217;\u00e9tait encore tellement beau&#8230; j&#8217;esp\u00e8re qu&#8217;on en fera d&#8217;autres). &hellip; <a href=\"https:\/\/archives.maihua.fr\/fr\/2016\/03\/melissa-unger-the-good-and-the-whole\/\" class=\"more-link\">Continue reading <span class=\"screen-reader-text\">Melissa<\/span> <span class=\"meta-nav\">&rarr;<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":19757,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[16,5,14,17,994,6,31,8,30],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-19755","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-amour","category-diary","category-feelings","category-la-chiale","category-parlant-beau","category-portraits","category-saimerbeaucoup","category-mon-chemin","category-vire-son-chemin"],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/archives.maihua.fr\/fr\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/19755","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/archives.maihua.fr\/fr\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/archives.maihua.fr\/fr\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/archives.maihua.fr\/fr\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/archives.maihua.fr\/fr\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=19755"}],"version-history":[{"count":9,"href":"https:\/\/archives.maihua.fr\/fr\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/19755\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":19771,"href":"https:\/\/archives.maihua.fr\/fr\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/19755\/revisions\/19771"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/archives.maihua.fr\/fr\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/19757"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/archives.maihua.fr\/fr\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=19755"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/archives.maihua.fr\/fr\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=19755"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/archives.maihua.fr\/fr\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=19755"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}