Sophia Loren has always been the “O.G. ” the Original Goddess. For reasons unbeknownst to me, I have always referred to her as my “spirit animal”. Perhaps there was a willful projection of my ugly duckling self onto her breathtaking beauty. Maybe it was me idolizing her success as an immigrant child dreaming of becoming an actress in the grand tradition of Italian Cinema. I was in admiration of her perfectly symmetrical features, to me, she was the embodiment of fierceness long before Beyonce made fierceness “a thing”. She was supremely intelligent, composed, elegant and possessed an awareness and earthy sensuality that transcended everything she did. Sophia Loren mesmerized a generation of cinema goers, giving us all a peek into what it was like to be Mythical.
There was a particular photograph by Terry O”Neil, circa 1965, of Sophia sitting on a bed with natural light illuminating her resplendent face. In this photo, Sophia expressed to me a vulnerability, strength and complexity that was wrapped in the confidence of youth. I would stare at this photo for hours, inventing context and movie scenarios where I was firmly placed in her leading role.
Years later I came across a copy online in an art gallery that sold stills from original photographers. At the time, I was looking for a unique gift for a friend. I bought it for her because I wanted the photo to unlock the imagination in her, that it had in me. A year later, I ended up back on that same site compelled to buy it for myself. I had just separated from my husband of 21 years and felt the need to feel that magic again as I transitioned back into “me”, after decades of being “we”.
Sometimes, in life, one challenging experience can unleash a cluster of catastrophic events. After my separation, I lost my job as an executive. The unimaginable had descended upon me and my world was turned on its axis.
The cylinder with the Sophia photograph arrived at the office just a few days after my departure. It was marked Return to Sender, sent back and got lost. Just like me.
In the fog of that time, I cannot remember much of what happened next. Both my phone number and email address had changed. But about a month later, due to an extraordinary courier mix up involving a home address somewhere in a random file and it getting stuck at the border, miraculously, my photograph arrived.
I reluctantly took the package from the courier and left it in the entrance hall where I usually placed junk mail and grocery circulars. I didn’t really want to look at it and felt angry it was there. I was unable or perhaps unwilling to bring the cylinder past the vestibule, and so that is where she sat for nine months. Through the fog of my summer, the deep sorrow of my fall and the heartache of my winter I would pass it as I entered and exited the house avoiding and trying to forget. I was ashamed and angry at myself, knowing that I had let Sophia, my daughters and the rest of my family down. I was underserving and the best solution was to just throw it out or give it away. After all, what right did I have to be in the presence of this Goddess?
During that time, I had been introduced to meditation as a way to process grief and stress. One of my mentors Gabriela introduced me to Theta Healing, a very high level of meditation that connects you to the source of all Creation – or The Creator. In this meditative state, it is almost as though you are having a conversation with your Higher-Self. It was an excellent way to process my challenges through introspection using a daily practice.One day during this meditative state, I received the strangest random message Higher-Self: “Open the Fucking Cylinder.” (Yes, my Higher-Self swears a blue streak!)
“ It’s time Penny…go and do it right now!”
I walked into the entrance, picked it up, went into my kitchen, opened it and there unspooled Sophia just as I remembered her.A few days later in my mediation came:
Higher-Self: “So what are you going to do with her now?”
Me: “ Shove her back in the cylinder “
Higher-Self: ” …You need to frame this Bitch- Gurrrl!!! DO IT NOW!”
Me “ …I really need to figure out this Higher-Self language!”
So without really knowing why, I went off to ‘frame this Bitch’! . When I received the picture few weeks later, I still couldn’t figure out what to do with her. I placed her on the living room sofa where she sat for the next few weeks. One day, as I was walking up the stairs, I noticed a big gaping space at the top landing where a painting had been repossessed by my ex-husband. Had this space been there all along? There was a wall, with a perfectly centered nail, waiting to showcase Sophia! This was where she was meant to be! Now I could look at her everyday going up and down the stairs, as I felt she was in a sacred and special place.
During the countless times I climbed those stairs, something unusual began to happen. As I made my way up the stairs, I started feeling her strength, confidence and sensuality. On the way down, I felt her presence, knowing she had my back. In the weeks and months that followed, with each step up and down, were setbacks, pain, triumph, fear, surrender and Sophia firmly overseing the journey.
In occupying this striking position at the top of the stairs, people walking into my house would look up and ask if that was me –causing me immense delight in their farsightedness! One day as I was walking up the stairs I thought …. What if?
By sheer serendipity, a few months earlier, I had crossed paths with an amazing internationally acclaimed, Montreal photographer named Naskademini. I thought what if we recreated this image? Could I possibly embody that raw power, vulnerability and sensuality of Sophia in her 20’s as a woman over 50? Like the space waiting at the top of the stars, did Naska cross my path because this was to be part of my story? my myth?
Me: “ Naska said yes!”
Higher-Self: “… heal this motherfucker – go take you place among
the mythical!”
It was decided that we would make the shoot very personal using my bedroom. Naska came over and we looked at various scenarios to shoot, figuring out the movement of furniture, lighting etc. The next day, I walked into my eldest daughter’s bedroom and was flabbergasted. Was this even possible? Her bedroom had all the elements of the original photograph, the window, the type of bed, the natural light, even a similar background photo. Could I have been creating this scene my whole life?
The following week we shot the photo. I was scared, excited and exhilarated. I felt I was too fleshy, too exposed, vulnerable, I wanted to giggle, to cry, to hide, to get it right, to get it wrong. That day represented a massive step forward in healing. As I stepped back into Divine Womanhood it led me back to the most comforting place, in my bed, dreaming again…I was home.
Through my recovery from the rupture, I began to embody what I saw in that Sophia photograph. To live my life with vulnerability and find strength in it. To be brave and fierce even when I don’t think I can get through the day. Resilience is beauty, sensuality is to be celebrated, and just Being is my wealth…oh… and that it takes steps up and down to work your way back from grief!
I’ve also realized that perhaps my Higher-Self may be an unfulfilled rapper!
Mostly, I learned that there is hope in every day, even in the days that seem dark, because there is always a Goddess or two available to lead the way. I have come to understand that patience, heart, self love and a little Divine intervention can absolutely lead the way to transformation.
In my case, from the Goddess in the cylinder …to the Goddess on the wall.
