Finding New Paths: My Tale of Discovery

by Lyza Fennell | Jun 8, 2025 | Writing

Finding New Paths: My Tale of Discovery

What is etched in clay is my story.

I saw a glimpse of it one day. I walked, in solitude, into the forest when I came upon it. A tablet with my story. I didn’t like what I read. I panicked. I felt unsafe. No; who wrote this for me? I wouldn’t have. Did I land here on this Earth accidentally and come upon a life already etched in clay?

My eyes darted. I slowly turned myself in a circle, my eyes looking up and down, my ears pricked for any noises, my skin for any reaction, and smell. What was that smell? It was damp. I am in the woods, and it has rained. The sun does not find me.

I found a stick, too flimsy. I found another one. Yes, this will do. Its tip is damp, jagged, broken from its branch. It told me it didn’t belong in this forest either.

Together we walked to the inscription in the clay. With all my determination, we tried to scratch the words, change the meaning, tell a new story.

The stick continued with all its might, with my strength behind it. My feet firm on the ground, pushing, my legs strong for balance and to provide additional support. My torso leaning, my shoulders, arms, hands, fingers holding the stick, pushing against the clay.

But the stick broke and fell to the ground. “I’m sorry I let you down,” we said simultaneously.

Then it told me, “Find the stream, but you must find a way to gather its gift.”

“But how?” I respond, my eyes searching.

Desperately, I get the urge to move. An anger washes over me; how can my life be already written, I did not plan it. I kick the tablet with all my might. Kick, kick, kick. Three times.

Then I walk over to it and move behind it. It’s resting on a fallen tree, so innocent, so naturally.

Who am I to change it? And still, I must.

I look around. A skinny tree is behind me, fighting for its place in the forest, reaching for the sun. It is not too young. It can help.

I grasp its trunk. Its deciduous leaves greet me with a gentle song. It’s a birch, I realize, my favorite tree.

“I come in peace, my friend,” I say to it and bow my head. “This tablet has a story etched on its face, claiming to be my life unfolding. But I do not like what comes next. I’ve never belonged, you know, but there is cruelty in its script.”

The tree’s leaves rustled and stood strong, and still. I leaned in and gave it a kiss. Its papery surface felt smooth on my lips.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

I put my hand against it again and push with my foot, pulling all the strength from body and the birch tree’s steadiness.

Yes! It falls to the ground. I pat the tree and smirk, then walk back over to the tablet. The words are now hidden.

So, what does this mean? I look around for an answer. I stand in front of it, legs spread out, my arms both outstretched, and I close my eyes.

I see a stone come into view in my mind’s eye. I open my eyes, bring my feet together and lower my arms.

“I’ll be back,” I announce, then pivot and walk away.

The ground beneath me is soft. The composted leaves and needles cushion my steps.

From the corner of my left eye, I see a set of rocks stacked in front of the trunk of an old oak tree. I immediately go over. I kneel before it.

“Thank you. I’ve always believed in rocks. I love you. You’re magical.”

I pull out my shirt to create a pocket to carry.

I take one stone at a time, until I could hold no more.

“I’ll be back,” I say and walk back. But where is it? I’m sure it was here.

Carrying my rocks, held in my shirt, I walk around. But now I am lost.

How far did I walk?

How could this be?

I look for my birch and the fallen tree.

My arm feels tired. I look for a place to sit.

In the near distance, I see another fallen tree. I walk to it, my legs feel heavy. I’m dragging.

I crouch down and gently place my rocks on the ground. I sit on the tree’s trunk and rest. I notice the light. It is fading. I must exit the forest. I search for a clearing to walk toward that is yet unseen.

Can I really leave my story behind?

Author’s Note: This story emerged from a moment of reckoning—a time when I questioned the path that seemed laid out before me. I wrote it as a way of exploring choice, resistance, and the quiet possibility of renewal.

What Are You Waiting For?

by Lyza Fennell | Apr 28, 2025 | Poetry

What Are You Waiting For?

Exactly. What am I waiting for?

I’ve waited long enough, and I don’t want my life to pass me by any longer.
I do not have a day to spare.
I’ll mourn the loss of waiting, but I can’t show up today.

You’re not ready.
Will you ever be?

Haven’t I waited long enough?
Aren’t you asking too much?

I’ve waited and waited.
I am Godot. I am a pebble. I am a mountain.
And now it’s time to move.

Your request for more waiting time is too much to bear; I have no time.
My life is ending, and yet still I wait.

The waiting door has closed, and there are only new possibilities.
It was in the ask that you lost me. It was too much.
No more.

I’ll always love you. This I know is true.
But this time, I’ll love you from the future’s trail.
My waiting time is over.

Regrets Only, Please

by Lyza Fennell | Dec 11, 2024 | Playwriting

Regrets Only, Please

Characters:
SABRINA: A woman in her late 30s/early 40s, anxious and eager.
TELLER: A woman in her late 50s/early 60s, world-weary but with a dry wit.

SETTING: A stark, minimalist office. A single desk sits center stage with a sign reading “Regrets Only.”

AT RISE: SABRINA enters through the office doors, rushing and out of breath. She spots the “Regrets Only” sign and approaches the desk where the TELLER is sitting getting ready to leave for the day.

SABRINA: Woo! Hello? Is this the Regrets Only desk? Am I too late? I hope not! I regret not leaving my house earlier. Traffic on the 405 was lamentably packed, as usual. I don’t know why I keep doing this to myself.

TELLER: (Sighs) I regret to tell you that I’ve already shut down my computer.

SABRINA: (Dismayed) No! Please, can you turn it back on?

TELLER: No, sorry.

SABRINA: Well… how about writing it on a pad of paper? You could put it in the computer tomorrow?

TELLER: (Annoyed and impatient) Sorry, lady. I’m trying to get out of here. I need to get to happy hour at the Rueful Roast. I can get half-price on my steak dinner.

SABRINA: (Subdued) Oh, I’m sorry. Look, you won’t regret it! I’ll pay the difference. I really need to get this off my chest before it’s too late.

TELLER: Well, if you’re offering, I’d prefer the Joyful Jambone. I love French food.

SABRINA: Sure, that’s fine! I really need to get this down before it’s too late. I’d be so disappointed.

TELLER: Sure, sure. I’ll just record it, okay? (Pulls out a mini recorder)

SABRINA: (Relieved) Wonderful! It all started with my diagnosis. It made me realize everything I took for granted and how much time I wasted. I figure if I hadn’t wasted half my life being bored, lounging about, watching mindless TV, cleaning my house from top to bottom every week… I might have been further along.

TELLER: (Concerned) Oh yes, sounds like you have a lot to regret. You’ve come to the right place. (Leans down and opens a drawer in her desk, pulling out a bottle of whiskey and a bottle of iced tea) Pick your pleasure, and don’t regret it. If you choose the whiskey, you throw caution to the wind. If you choose iced tea, you’ll respect your body. It’s sugar-free.

SABRINA: Oh, well, that whiskey is tempting me, but I don’t want a hangover.

TELLER: You won’t get a hangover. I’ll tell you when to stop. That’s the trouble with regretful people. They overthink and overdrink. One drink will help break the cycle of regret, please. Don’t worry.

(SABRINA nods, and the TELLER brings out two glasses and pours the whiskey. They lift their drinks.)

TELLER: To life.

SABRINA: I regret not coming here sooner. I’ve been so ashamed of my regret in a world of positive people with wonderful lives.

TELLER: It’s a fallacy. Look at my book. (Pulls out a very thick book) The world is full of regretful people. But it isn’t too late for you because you’re here. That’s a start. And tomorrow, you can do one thing… and don’t be too hard on yourself if you don’t. It takes baby steps to break the cycle of regret, but I can help you.

SABRINA: Oh, I’m so relieved. But can I tell you about my regrets?

TELLER: There’s no need.

SABRINA: Yes, I think there is!

TELLER: No, believe me. It does no good to go over all the things you regret.

SABRINA: Really? Wow. Well, I feel better knowing that. Bottoms up!

(They toast and sip their drinks. SABRINA sits back and envisions her new world.)

BLACKOUT

Under the Full Moon

by Lyza Fennell | Nov 9, 2024 | Playwriting

Under the Full Moon

Act I, Scene One

SET: A living room adorned with new-age details.

AT RISE: WENDY and LUCY sit on floor cushions with cups of tea.

LUCY

(Smiling serenely, she takes a sip of tea) I manifested it all, Wendy: the dream job, money, inner peace.

WENDY

(Doubtfully, shrugging or shaking her head.) Wow, Lucy, I wouldn’t even know where to start. I could never do any of that.

LUCY

(Reaching her hand across the table and placing it on WENDY’s)

Don’t be silly, Wendy. It takes practice, determination, and ritual.

WENDY

(Evoking fear or skepticism of the word ritual) Ritual? What do you mean?

LUCY

(Gesturing, confident) Well, you can do a daily ritual of a little prayer or meditation and making a mantra. (LUCY takes a sip of herbal tea, her bracelets jingle.)

WENDY

(Liking the idea of a mantra) Ha, a mantra, I could do that!

LUCY

(Leans in conspiratorially) But, if you really want some monumental shifts, then you should come to one of the full moon rituals we have in the Metanoia woods.

WENDY

(WENDY reacts with fear and curiosity.) Woods? At night? Are you kidding me? No way!

LUCY

(Laugh genuinely at WENDY’s fears, but with a hint of understanding.) You don’t like the woods? They’re full of magic.

WENDY

That’s what I’m afraid of.

LUCY

You’re afraid of magic?

WENDY

The woods are full of bears, coyotes, and strangers with bad intentions.

LUCY

(Laughs again and takes a deep breath.) Oh, Wendy you are overwrought with fears. The animals won’t harm you; the magic protects you. Here (placing the crystal in WENDY’s hand), take this crystal and put it underneath your pillow at night. Better yet, put it outside at night and have it cleansed by the moon.

WENDY

(Beat. Examining the crystal, skeptical of its power.) A crystal’s going to help me? (Beat) Do they help you?

LUCY

(Reassuringly) Of course, all the time. They all have different meanings.

WENDY

(Curious, skeptical) Is that how you stay so calm?

LUCY

(Laughs, all knowingly) It’s taken a long time. I’ve worked hard through ritual, meditation, and Qigong (chi gong). I used to be a bundle of nerves like you.

WENDY

(Paranoid, Self-consciously) Why? Do I come across like that? (Beat) I just thought I was extra cautious. Maybe I could use a little help.

LUCY

(Eagerly and excitedly, she can’t wait to introduce WENDY to the next level.)

Wendy, you have to come to the next full moon ritual—it’s tomorrow night! We are celebrating the Mourning Moon. (Beat) See? The Universe is leading you there. You’ll meet me at the parking lot on the corner of Hope and Fear Streets at 11:00. It will take us 20 minutes to hike through the woods to the ritual spot. Bring a light source— and an extra layer of clothing, although there will be a bonfire, and most importantly, bring something to (emph.) cleanse your thirst.

WENDY

Late at night? Deep into the woods? What if something happens? Who will hear our screams?

LUCY

Oh, Wendy, we’ll be fine. I’ve been leading these ceremonies for years. Nobody has ever been harmed (she reaches her hand out reassuringly). Here, I’ll do some Reiki on you right now.

(She raises her arms up.)

WENDY

(Gesturing LUCY to stop Reiki) No, thank you, Lucy. I actually like my anxiety. It keeps me alert and aware of any danger. If I relax, I won’t be prepared. I could be taken by surprise.

LUCY

I understand. That’s who you are. It’s in the stars. I’m not trying to change you. I’m just trying to help you.

WENDY

Thanks. So, not that I’m going, but what are these full moon rituals like, anyway?

LUCY

I’m so glad you asked! There’s singing, dancing, the moon’s energy washing over us… It’s pure magic, Wendy.

WENDY

I don’t know, Lucy… It sounds amazing, but what if something happens?

LUCY

Don’t worry, Wendy, I will help you. Meet me tomorrow night. Don’t be late!

WENDY

(Beat, thinking about it, then) OK, I will be there.

BLACKOUT

ACT I, SCENE TWO

SET: A parking lot on the edge of the woods. Street signs say Hope and Fear.

AT RISE: WENDY enters the scene with exaggerated caution, scanning her surroundings. She stands in the parking lot, her eyes wide with apprehension. She clutches her backpack, which bulges with supplies. She checks her watch nervously.

A WOLF emerges from the shadows, its movements deliberate and silent. It stops a few feet away from Wendy, its yellow eyes fixed on her.

WOLF

What’s in the bag?

(Its voice is low and resonant, vibrating through WENDY’s bones. It examines the bulging backpack. LUCY whirls around, heart pounding. Gasping, she fumbles for her knife in her backpack, but her hands are shaking too badly to grip it.)

WENDY

Who…who…who are you? Stay back!

WOLF

(Circling her slowly, keeping its gaze on her.)

You know, if I wanted to attack you, you wouldn’t be able to pull that knife off your pack. My sharp teeth would sink into you before you blink. (Beat. Generously) Of course, I only want to help you. What are you doing in the woods so late, under the Mourning Moon?

WENDY

(Voice trembling) I…I…I came to meet my friend. We’re…we’re…we’re going to a ritual.

WOLF

(The WOLF stops circling her and tilts its head slightly.) A ritual?

WENDY

(Her fear mingles with a strange sense of curiosity). Um, yes.

WOLF

A ritual of change. Of transformation. Of shedding the old skin and embracing the new.

WENDY

How did you know that?

WOLF

The Metanoia Woods whisper their secrets to those who listen. They know your fears, your doubts, your deepest desires.

WENDY

(Tears well up in her eyes) Uh…I’m not going in there! I’m not ready for that. I’m scared.

WOLF

(Nudges her gently with its snout.) The only way out is through. Embrace the fear, Wendy. Let it guide you to your true self.

WENDY

How did you know my name?

WOLF

(Deflecting) What’s in the bag?

WENDY

(Proudly) A can of beans, trail mix, a charcoal water filter, toilet paper, batteries, a blanket, a first aid kit, and my cell phone.

WOLF

(Impressed) You sound prepared.

WENDY

(Relaxing her posture and tone.) I am always prepared. You can never be too careful. Admittedly, I don’t actually know what I could do to protect myself from a wolf attack. Honestly, I didn’t think it would really happen around here.

WOLF

(With a sly grin) Don’t worry, I won’t bite you.

WENDY

(Skeptical, brave, but still guarded.) That hardly helps me feel safe. You could be tricking me. I’ve read the stories. What kind of wolf are you? (Beat) Oh, I forgot. I have a garlic bulb in my bag, too. (Beat) And a gun with a silver bullet.

WOLF

(Guiding, teaching) First, garlic is for vampires, and I’m not a werewolf.

WENDY

How do I know? You’re talking, after all.

WOLF

Ah, that’s true. I guess you wouldn’t know. (Beat, curiously) Show me your gun.

WENDY

Uh…I only pull it out on special occasions. Like, when I come to the woods late at night…with a full moon…and a wolf shows up. I might be about to make this a special occasion.

WOLF

Ah, yes, a full moon is always special. (Laughing) It’s true, the moon does rile me up.. It’s the Mourning moon tonight, the last full moon before the winter solstice.

WENDY

(She reaches her hand behind her toward her bag.)How do you know the solstice?

WOLF

All animals know about the solstices and the changing seasons. Food will be scarce soon. It’s time to fatten up. (He licks his chops.)

WENDY

(She takes two steps back slowly, finally grasping the knife.)

That sounds like a threat.

WOLF

(Introspectively) No, I’m just a little lonely. I lost my wolfpack a while ago. They said I was too much a free thinker and a dreamer. I hated them always telling me what to do, where to go, what to kill. You know, those little bunnies are cute. I mean, I always ate them, but I just liked watching them first. Those wolves were on a kill-and-go schedule. It was too efficient for me.

WENDY

(Sadly) Poor bunnies.

WOLF

So, now I hunt on my own schedule. A wolf’s got to eat after all. And I wander the woods, resting on the river’s edge watching, taking the world in. I’ve done a lot of self-discovery at the edge of the river. I’ve pondered the earth, moon, and stars. You know, the stars have conflict just like we do here.

WENDY

I don’t know much about stars, but I like looking at them.

WOLF

There’s a field in the woods where I stare at the sky. I fall asleep watching them.

WENDY

That sounds nice.

WOLF

(Pointing to Mars with a sense of shared wonder.) Look, you can see Mars just left of the moon.

WENDY

(Express a mix of awe and wonder when looking at Mars) Whoa, that’s cool.

(She puts her backpack down.)

WOLF

It’s a rare occurrence.

WENDY

(Confide in WOLF with a sense of vulnerability.) I always wondered if I should spend more time with the stars. I get so caught up in the day-to-day. Worrying about this, fretting about that. Stuck in a job I hate. Worrying, none of my friends actually like me. I need a new beginning. That’s why I came here tonight. I don’t know if I believe in this stuff but my friend Lucy swears by it.

WOLF

A full moon is more about endings than new beginnings. It is a time to let go. What can you let go of?

WENDY

(Confessing) Ha! I have a laundry list of things to let go of.

WOLF

(WOLF’s tail flicks and it smiles earnestly)

Then let go, and start a new path. Once you follow your true path, your issues will melt away. You can start big or small. I guess it depends on how strong you feel.

WENDY

(Bemused) Strong is not an attribute I use for myself.

WOLF

I can help you. You can visit me anytime.

I—

(Suddenly WOLF stops talking and quickly moves into the shadows as LUCY enters the parking lot interrupting the conversation.)

WENDY

(Toward WOLF) Wait! We weren’t finished!

LUCY

Weren’t finished with what?

(She looks around, wondering what WENDY is talking about.)

WENDY

(Quietly to herself) How will I find him?

LUCY

Who? What are you talking about, Wendy? Are you talking to someone?

(She looks back and forth between WENDY and the empty space where the WOLF was, feigning confusion and suspicion.)

WENDY

(Looking all around.) Where did he go?

LUCY

Who? Who are you talking about? Wendy, you seem different. What did I miss?

WENDY

(Focusing back on LUCY, but still looking around) Oh nothing. Nothing, it’s nothing.

LUCY

(Expressing excitement about the ritual, trying to refocus Wendy’s attention.)

OK, if you say so. Anyway, I am SOOOO glad you’re here. This night is going to be full of magic. I can just sense it’s going to be a new start for you.

WENDY

(Eager to find WOLF) I’m actually excited. Hurry, let’s go in.

LUCY

(Happily surprised) Good! Then this promises to be a good night. Let’s get going.

BLACKOUT

END OF PLAY

Author’s Note: This ten-minute play invites the audience to ponder the thin line between fear and transformation, drawing from Wendy’s unexpected encounter under the mystical Mourning Moon. The piece hints at a larger world of rituals, personal discovery, and the unknown, leaving it open for interpretation or future exploration.