Greetings!

Greetings to all this day!  I am taking the day to fill out job applications, so can not write what is on my heart.
I am excited though as people from so many corners of the earth are visiting us!  This is the current list of people who have visited this site!  If you visited and I missed it, please let me know!  I apologize and will include you in our list!

Columbia, Bulgaria, Malaysia, Ukraine, Thailand, South Korea, the UK, Germany,

Viet Nam, Denmark, Russia, Brazil, Taiwan, Philippines, Hungary, Latvia, the Netherlands, Denmark, the US, Norway, Israel, Australia, India, France, Indonesia, Sweden, China, Egypt, Singapore, Tunisia, Guatemala, Puerto Rico, South Africa,
Chile, the Czech Republic, Hong Kong, Spain, Canada, Portugal, Argentina, Morocco, Qatar

Total Abandon and Detachment

'Spread your wings'
  'Reclaim your voice'
  'Explore, imagine, find possibilities'
  'Watch, learn'
  'Withhold judgment'

My recent experience in experimenting with Spirit's invitation
  brought me to my knees in pain.

But, Spirit still invites me forth,
  reminding me that I have only started the journey
  to gather this wisdom into my heart and soul.

So, blessed with healing from the Spirit of the ocean
  and the joy of dancing in the waves with my drum,
  I set again on this path, using my job search to learn
  more deeply the lessons offered by Spirit.

I believe there is something important to learn about detachment,
  and, in the merging of detachment with total abandon.
  At first glance, a perfect example of an oxymoron.
  But, I believe the seemingly impossible is often not that,
  but our inability to see beyond our self-imposed limitations.

So, I am sitting with this seed of an idea today...
  Total abandon merged with detachment.

Spread Your Wings

Spirit guided me, 'Spread your wings'
  'Reclaim your voice'
  'Explore, imagine'
  'Find possibilities'
  'Watch, learn'
  'Withhold judgment'

The stage on which I was to
  experiment with this lesson
  was the stage of my search
  for employment.

After months of seeking,
  writing applications,
  and receiving rejection letters,
  an opportunity opened.

So, I gathered the courage
  and decided to heed Spirit's call.

I let myself fall into
  exploring possibilities and
  imagining futures.

I found my voice and was elated
  to hear it ring clearly and confidently
  in the presence of those with whom
  I might share a future.

I watched my colleagues.
  I witnessed  the experience unfold.
  I held back judgment and was awed by
  how that cleared my vision
  and my ability to stay present.

And, I dreamed.
  What could that future look like?
  What would be the things we could create together?
  How could my gifts emerge in this collaborative?

The ideas sprang forth, barely giving me time
  to record them before more pressed for attention.
  The feeling of being in community with these people
  swept over me.
  The experience of gifting back to life through
  this opportunity filled me with gratitude and
  an excitement I could barely contain.

But I was one of six, and only two would be selected
  to walk the path with this wonderful group of people.
  So, I waited, anticipated, dared dream, explored, imagined...

And then the letter came.
  'Thank you for your application.
  We have selected another.
  Our best wishes to you in your search.'

'We have selected another.
  We have selected another.
  We have selected another...'

Like a mantra, these words played over and again
  in my mind as I watched the dreams, the ideas,
  the images, the possibilities explode
  and dissolve into nothingness,
  leaving a heart suspended in midair.

And then, I watched my heart quiver momentarily
  before its fall.

It's been a week now, the first days a blurr,
  the last a slow recovery from the fall,
  the recent memory still capable of
  bringing tears to my eyes.

This is not the first time I have struggled to find work.
  Rather, it has been a recurrent theme in the last decade of my life.
  So, I approached this iteration with some trepidation,
  but also with a desire to not let the difficulties of the past
  hinder my ability to step once again onto this rocky path.

And, I believed the wisdom shared by my Spirit Guides.

  'Spread your wings'
  'Reclaim your voice'
  'Explore, imagine, find possibilities'
  'Watch, learn'
  'Withhold judgment'

However, the experience of totally opening my heart to dream
  and then witnessing it crash when the dream didn't materialize
  has given me pause.

These are the experiences that lure us into protective stances...
  'This is why you shouldn't dream.  It may not happen, and then what?'
  so
  'I'm not going to allow myself to dream.
  I'm going to limit the energy I invest in imagining.
  I'm going to pronounce judgment...first, before them.'

I can, and have made this choice in the past.
  And, it did affect who I was and how I experienced life.
  It's like holding your hand on a drum head when you beat it.
  The reverberation so essential to the sound of the drum is stilled,
  resulting in a dull thud where there should be a call to the gods.

Though my heart wants to shrink at the memory of this recent crash,
  I want to find a different lesson in this experience,
  one that includes keeping my heart open.

So, I went to the ocean to heal.
  I played my drum without reserve while dancing in the waves.
  The magnificent oceanic energy merged with the beat of my drum,
  inviting me to live fully and without reserve, to dance with abandon,
  to let my drum sing to the world and the sky and the gods.

Yes, living with an open heart means the pain
  will be as vivid as the ecstacy.
  But, it is living fully, being alive, being here in this moment
  for all the moments I am bequested on this life journey.

This is my choice today.

'Spread your wings'
  'Reclaim your voice'
  'Explore, imagine, find possibilities'
  'Watch, learn'
  'Withhold judgment'

Today, in the Shadow of Loveworthy

The landscape, dreamlike, floated past her motionless body.
  Reliving the events recently past cast her into a vast
  and swirling pool of confusion, revelation and incredulity.

'Could this have really happened?' rang through her mind.
  'Is it really possible?'

The images captured her,
  binding her body to the earth,
  opening her mind to the universe.

It started so innocently and quietly.
  She saw the young woman walking and felt immediately
  a profound connection, a knowing, a love for her.

A young adult herself, she followed eagerly the allure.
  The young woman recognized her at once,
  and without hesitation, they walked together.

There are those you meet in this life with whom
  you share a soul-contract, an agreement of a journey
  shared to grow, heal, love, create...

These two women understood immediately,
  felt the connection, but knew not
  the contract they were to fulfill together.

So, they loved and walked,
  fell deeply one into the other,
  experienced exquisite bliss and happiness.

Then, out from the mist stepped a man,
  clad in greys and browns
  and garnished with eyes of steel
  and a smile contorted into a scowl.

He too knew this woman,
  approached her with the arrogance
  born of authority and rank.

Sanction and blessing were his to confer
  and he wasted not his breath in
  apprising her of his judgment.

'What are you doing?!'  he exclaimed.
  'Who do you think you are, parading
  about like this, with another woman?!'

She spoke not, but in response gathered
  her partner's hand in hers and stood resolutely,
  quietly defying his judgment.

In anger and disbelief, he disappeared into the mist.
  They gazed into each others' eyes and vowed
  that nothing could separate them, ever.

But as they walked, more stepped from the midst,
  chiding her, calling her back to the fold,
  pronouncing judgment on her soul,
  lambasting her with profanities surpassed only
  by the hate coursing from their being.

The acerbic ridicule escalated into physical threats.
  But still, she would not loose the hand of her partner.
  Without words, she proclaimed her right to happiness and love.

And, facing excommunication from her community and family
  for this profound and singular love,
  the veil lifted from her person,
  revealing a heart broken by their betrayal.

Her countenance grew hard with anger and definance.
  She would never again kowtow to rules of community
  defined by fear and hate.

She felt love, was inspired to find the greatness in herself
  by this love, healed and grew and laughed in this love.
  Something so precious could not be wrong,
  and she,
  she was Love worthy.

So she and her partner walked together,
  fortified by their love for themselves and each other.

But they, the others,
  fed by fear and ignorance,
  could not allow such a shameless display
  of love and happiness.

Nor could they tolerate deviation from the rules
  that held tightly that community of believers.
  So, they set out to stop the abhorrent abomination.

Secretly, they approached Loveworthy's partner.
  'She is dirty, you know.  She is bad.  She can
  only mean trouble for you.  Best you leave now,
  while you can'  they advised.

Frightened by the others, her partner appealed to Loveworthy.
  'What are we doing?'  she asked.  'Is it okay for us be together?'
  'Will they hurt us?  Is it worth it?  Are we worth it?'

Loveworthy stared at the one who made her heart sing,
  the one with whom she shared a soul contract.
  And, she cried.

The hate and enmity, like a poison, had penetrated her partner's
  heart and soul.  It had turned her against herself,
  made her question her own wisdom, and worse,
  made her doubt her own worthiness to be and feel love.

Broken, Loveworthy turned away,
  the walk no longer theirs,
  their love stolen by ignorance and fear.

They caught her that day,
  walking alone by a stream.
  There, they took her.

She could not be allowed to endure.
  Her message was audacious,
  too strange, too dangerous.

She walks no more by this stream.
  Her smile, the potential that was hers,
  the love she offered,
  all died that day.

And here I lie, next to that stream,
  unable to move, transfixed by the memories
  of the love that was mine and that I gave away.

Through my tears,
  I see her spirit, feel her touch my heart.
  And I see for the first time
  that she is me.
  I am her.

In her shadow, I stand.
  In her eyes, I live.
  In her heart, I am
  Loveworthy.

The Birth and Life of Loveworthy

  'Damn you!' shouted the old woman quaking in her chair.  'How dare you steal the life from a young woman!  Who the hell do you think you are, pronouncing judgment on the innocent and guileless youth who dares to love?!'

  'You, with your cars and toys, and rules!  You know nothing of love.  You know nothing of compassion. You know only your own fear and ignorance.  Yes, ignorance!  And, don't you dare tell me to quiet down!  The gods will not smite me!  I am older than most of them!'

  Shaking violently, the old woman endeavored to quiet herself.  'Just what they would want...' she chided herself, 'for me to die right here so the truth won't be told!  They can't kill me that easily!' she laughed and then coughed, 'but I can kill myself if I don't calm down!'

  Smiling, she set again to the gentle rock that soothed her soul...and sometimes put her to sleep.   She was, after all, near 100 and she deserved to sleep when she damn well pleased!

  'So, where was I?' she asked upon waking.  'Oh right.  I am here to tell this story, to let all hear it.  For it is not just the story of one girl.  It is the story of many, so many, that suffer at the hands of fear and ignorance feigned as authority and wisdom.  And, somewhere, somehow it must end!'

  Silence filled the room, disrupted only by the quiet creaking of the rocker in motion.  Her eyes clouded with memories of a distant past.

  'The community was overjoyed when they heard of her birth!  I remember that day like it was yesterday!  Like a princess, she entered this world...all gooky, of course.  And, her cry filled the room near as powerful as the presence of her soul.  Most didn't see her soul, but me, well I see these things.  Never mind you, how.  I just do.'

  'Her father was one of my favorite human beings.  He was a gentle soul, wearing the simple garb of a country pastor.  "My princess" were the first words out of his mouth...that is, when he was finally able to speak.  And her mother, what an angel!  Any woman who could push out a screaming baby and then take it to her breast is crown royalty in my book!'

  'Outside the room, there was excited whispering, and the women were running to the phones to get word out to the congregation.  The Pastor's family had grown by one beautiful girl!  Me and the girl's spirit watched all the commotion for awhile.  And then, she bid me adieu.  She had a life to live here.'

 'So was born Loveworthy on that warm summer day.  She was the apple in her father's eye.  Could do no wrong, that one.  Course, he wasn't home during the day when she stripped off the dresses sewed by her mother and donned pants and tennies..."Better to climb trees with" she called to her frustrated mother.'

  'I swear that girl had more cuts and bruises than her big brothers...part cuz she was always trying to keep up with them, and part cuz she believed there was no tree she couldn't climb.  Worried her momma sick, that girl did.'

  'Now, don't you fret.  I'm not going to tell the whole lifestory of Loveworthy...not just yet, anyway.  But, I did want to share one thing about that girl spirit.'

  'She was raised in a faith community in a small town way out in the hinterlands.  Her parents being the Pastor and Pastor's wife and all, they were like celebrities in that town.  They were deeply religious, them folk.  And, they looked to her father for sage advice about all manner of things.  Her mother was the belle of the town, leading the women's groups, playing the organ for the church choir, baking the goods for the potlucks on Sunday afternoons.'

 'Did I tell you the town was way off in the hinterlands?  It was so far off, word of the outside world arrived there decades after the events passed.  Loveworthy used to joke that her brothers introduced the 60s into the town during the 70s.  Residents didn't pay heed to the workings of the outside world though.  There were crops to sow and cattle to milk.'

  'And, Loveworthy, well she escaped all the adult hullaballo as quickly as possible and retreated to her favorite hiding places deep in the bowels of the church.  I couldn't tell ya for certain where they were cuz I was old, even back then!  But, she told me stories of her adventures.'

  'Like the one of her friend, Wayne.  Wayne, she told me, lived in the attic above the sanctuary.  Now, Wayne would sit on an old chair up there.  Loveworthy swore to this.  Course, she never actually saw him.  Seems he was always away when she ventured up there.  But, she declared she had solid evidence.  The surface of the chair and the arms never had dust on them, but the sloping sides always did have dust!  That, she swore, was how she knew about Wayne.  Sometimes, she and her little brother would hear noises up there and come scurrying down, all outa breath and excited about their "near-encounter" with Wayne.'

  'The church was her second home, and she knew every inch of it, specially cuz she could crawl into the smallest, most out-of-the-way places.  And, she knew all the people - they were all like her aunts and uncles and cuzins...you have a lot of them when you are the Pastor's daughter...nearly everyone in town!'

  'But wait, I was gonna tell you this thing about Loveworthy.  Her daddy worked long hours, many times deep into the night.  So, after her momma tucked her in, she would wait in the dark for him to come home.  And when he did, she would have private conversations with him, exploring faith and philosophy and life and the universe...  Those moments, she treasured above all others.  All day, she would save her questions about life to share with him.  He was her first hero.  She, his princess.'

  'She figured out early on about people who preached "good stuff" and then did "bad stuff" when others weren't looking.  "Those people act like they are better than everyone else," she would say.  "But, they aren't.  Like that guy.  He preaches all about love on Sunday, but I see how he treats his family.  That's not right.  He's fake."

  'Likewise, she figured out the difference between knowledge and wisdom.  I think it was all those nights talking with her daddy taught her that.  "Wisdom", she told me "is what I want.  I like knowledge, yeah.  I want knowledge too.  But, I really want wisdom."'

  'She wanted three things in life, to be one with her God, to be a good person, and to grow wise like her daddy.  So she set about searching for wisdom.  She turned to the greatest source of wisdom she knew, the Bible.  She read it every night, talked with her daddy about it, attended Sunday School, listened as best a kid can to the sermons on Sunday, and read the Bible some more.'

  'When she got to be 12-years-old, her daddy and momma gave her a special Bible.  It had been developed especially for teenagers.  It was a proud day for her as she was nigh on being a grownup teenager!  And, now she had a Bible that spoke cool teenage language, not that strange language all the old people spoke.'

  'She poured over that Bible, seeking wisdom, absorbing the words, melding her self to fit the ideas, shaping her thoughts to match...  It was her quest.  It was her life.  She believed everything she read in that Bible.  It was, after all, "the Word of God".  "How", she asked "could there ever be anything better than the Word of God to learn wisdom?"  She had it from the Source.  And, she stuck to it like glue.'

  'Now, that's what I wanted to tell you all.  Because, that's the stage for what happened later in her life.  But, I'm tired now, so I'm going to rest.  Later, I'll tell  you more.'

One Thousand Yeses

'I said "Yes", didn't I?'  she queried.

'How many times have I said "Yes"?' she wondered.
  Time and again for so many years, she couldn't even count them.
  But, why?

'Is there some magic number of "Yeses" that,
  if said, cleanse the unworthiness that is me?'

Can "Yeses" clean the unclean,
  create desire for one unwanted
  transform un, un, un, un to
  something
  something
  anything?

Or are they just more desperate appeals
  to an unforgiving audience
  for welcome
  for forgiveness
  for love?

I can be no other than I am.
  I twisted and contorted myself
  for you and you and you
  until there was no breath of life
  left
  only a shell
  and a memory
  of love.

And still, after
  one thousand yeses
  I am not welcome
  I am despised
  I am tolerated

All because I can not be
  who you need me to be

So, I have one final "Yes"
  That is to me.
  "Yes, I am."

Inside me,
  I am welcome
  I am loved
  I am venerated
  because I am.

Yes.

An Old Woman's Scorn

  'And did I tell you,' asked the old woman, 'there is no need for you to hold your hate for Loveworthy or your contempt for her or your anger at her?'

  'You see, there is no amount of hate or contempt or anger that you can direct toward her that she does not level in equal and greater measure toward her self.  None.'

  'Hopefully, you are satisfied with that,' she declared, eyes ablaze with mirth.   'Or do you need more?  Do you need to exact yet more vengence to heal your own wounds?!'

  'Tell me!' she shouted.  'What more could you possibly want?!  What deep chord of discontent inside you was struck when Loveworthy learned who she was?  And, why do you insist on targeting her as blameworthy for your own wounds?'

  'Do you really think this perpetual war against a broken woman will heal you?  Does it satisfy some deep sickness in you to see her anguish?!  When will it be enough?'

  Tears filled the lines that marbled her face.  'So old am I, and yet so astonished after all these years, to see the enmity that is humankind.  I wanted, before I go, to witness the love that Loveworth dreamed possible.  I wanted to take to my grave stories of human compassion and kindness such that the gods would smile.  Yet, I have nothing for the parting cept the dry bones of a long-dead child, whispers of dreams unfilled and dark contempt layered thick against my heart.'

  'And you,' she asked 'what have you?'

Living On and Born Again

  The soft patter of spring rain beat in tune with the rocker.  The scent intoxicating; flowers abundant mixed with the fragrance of fresh green melting into a sparkling mist that hugged the ground.  And to top it off, scattered rays of warmth shone from the sun, teasing like a lover to give more, maybe...

  This is the magic of living in the rainy country.  Life piles up on itself.  No sooner than a form starts to decay, another takes root in the nutritious rot and grows tall and proud...until it too succumbs to the master of time and gives itself over to yet another.

  Could it be that the people of this valley, too, follow this natural rhythm?  Not yet gone, but already providing the fodder for another's growth.  And some, long gone, still offering the much needed nourishment for those to come.

  These are the thoughts that wandered through the old woman's mind as she watched time pass.  Her wrinkled face wrinkled even more as a broad smile washed across her face.

  'Loveworthy is like that,' she thought.  'She's gone many years now, and still she reaches out to share, to offer life and hope.  Her life can nourish others, if her story be told.  That's why I hang on, to tell that story.  Then, I can go...when I know someone heard it.'

  So, wait she did for the people to come back.  And, eventually they did.  For something about Loveworthy caught in their throat, caused their heart to skip a beat.  They wanted to know what.  So, they came.

  'Somea you folks is those "born-again" types' started the old woman, peering into the crowd.  'I seen you at the tent the other day, heard the talk about the "day" someone was "born again".  I don't know bout that, see.  I figure you was born once and that's just about enough.  But, when I saw y'all out there, I remembered a story about Loveworthy.'

  'Now, Loveworthy's parents didn't raise her in that "born again" religion.  They was just regular Lutherans.  I think they believe you're just born once too, but don't quote me on it.  Better ask one of them Pastors.  Anyway, one day Loveworthy was late comin to my house.  When she finally arrived, she had this faraway look in her eyes.  I seen this a bunch of times with her.  She always seemed to be living here and someplace far distant at the same time.  But this day was different.'

  'This day she came with tears in her eyes.  "What," I asked her "got into you, child?"  The day couldn't be any brighter and I knew she was building a treefort that day.  "Why the long face?" I asked.'

  'As if pulling herself from a distant star, Loveworthy strained to focus on me.  With tears in her bright blue eyes, she told me, "Last night when I was waiting for my dad, I felt Jesus come into my heart."'

  '"But child," I challenged, "you always feel close to Jesus.  It's near all you speak about, that and that Bible of yours."'

  '"No!"  she cried.  "It's different!  I actually felt him next to me and then become one with me, in my body!  I can't even describe how it felt!  I've been thinking and the closest I can come is the time I jumped out of the tree into the leaf pile.  Well, of course, I'm talking about before I hit the pile...when I was still in the air.  It felt like I was flying, like I could go anywhere I wanted with just a thought, like I didn't have to pay attention to gravity, like I could soar to the stars!  That's how it felt!"'

  'I was taken back by that, didn't know how to respond.  Was her wild imagination taking her on another ride?  Was she slippin over the edge?  I wondered about that sometimes.  I couldn't rightly tell.  But now that I think about it, it might nota mattered what I said cuz soon as she finished telling me, she was so far away.  She changed that day.  She was always deeply faithful, like her daddy.  But, I think she really did see Jesus that night.  After that's when she started talking about being a missionary in Africa, about dedicating her life to God...'

  'And see, that's what she did, from protecting the boy that was slow in the head from the bullies, to singing at the nursing home on Sundays, to fighting for the earth, God save her.  That's what she did.  Many a one was touched by that loving heart, some of you too, I venture to guess.'

  'So, you see.  This is what I don't understand.  And, maybe you religious folks can explain it to me in simple language, language even an old woman like myself can understand...'

  'How is it possible that this girl who gave herself entirely to her God could be bad?  How does such a tender, loving heart suddenly change with the tide of hormones into the loathsome creature you all cast her to be?  Tell me that cuz try as I might, I just don't get it.'

Life is Sacred

     'I was thinkin' started the old woman.  'I was thinkin bout that time in the forest.  Loveworthy loved the forest.  A child of the great plains, Loveworthy yearned for the cold morning air tinged with the lush scent of pine, the towering trees pointing humbly to the magnificence that was the Rocky Mountains.'
     'She had it in her head that to be in the forest, of the forest, she needed only the bare minimum of things from the human world.  "Survival camping" she called it.  "What", she pondered "are the bare essentials necessary to go to the woods?"  So, with a backpack filled with the "bare essentials", she took to the forest. She would return from these ventures filled with stories of wonder...bears, eagles, trails that led to nowhere, sleeping under the stars, drinking from fresh mountain streams.'
     'So one day, filled with the magic of the forest, Loverworthy convinced me to go with her.  We drove into the country.  It was so beautiful.  I don't get out to see it anymore.  Loveworthy turned onto a back road and we descended into a deep valley.  Round the corner, we came upon a herd of cattle in the road.  Finally, a chance to show Loveworthy my skills!'
     'She parked the car.  Once she got me out, we walked among the cows.  I showed her how to call to them, to move them off the road.  Oh, how we laughed!  Cows going this way and that!  Cows looking at us and wondering just what it is we wanted from them!  Cows just standing there, chewing thier cudd, not at all interested in moving!  Finally, we made a small path through the herd and drove through it to the wondering eyes of all.  I was 98 then and hadn't felt so young in so many years!'
     'Laughing, we drove on, deeper and deeper into the valley till the forest stood before us, inviting and dark.  Without pause, Loveworthy drove into the woods, rolled down the windows and breathed as deeply as she could.  The pine scent was intoxicating.  The dark enveloped us and taught our eyes to see.  The quiet pierced by the occassional bird call.  The stillness rocked by the gentle breeze weaving its way through the trees.  It felt as if we had entered a space so sacred, so magnificent, that the only appropriate response was to fall to my knees in prayer.'
     'And, that's what Loveworthy did.  She stopped the car and without a word, stepped into the quiet, so full of reverence that it radiated white around her.  She stood quietly for a moment, her presence blending into the trees.  Then, she fell to her knees and bowed her head to the ground.  For several minutes, she kneeled there, the only sound the breeze through the trees and the beat of my heart.'
     'Then she stood to face the east and raised her arms to the sky.  In the silence, she reached to the gods.  I saw white light flow from the sky into her outstreched arms.  She gathered the light in her hands and brought it down into her body, then held it near her heart.  It washed clean through her and then gathered in her hands.  Holding her hands now in front of her heart, she opened them to the woods and the light flowed from her to all that stood in her path.  The light filled the woods, sparkling off the leaves, dancing among the trees, flowing, flowing, flowing deep into the wood.'
     'Then, she turned to face the south and once again stretched her arms to the sky.  The light fell from the sky and flooded her body.  She glowed.  And again, she opened her arms to the south letting the light shine to all in her path.  She turned twice more, first to the west and finally to the north, gathering the light from above, using it to heal and cleanse herself and then sending it out to all.'
     'Facing east again, Loveworthy brought her hands up into a prayer and touched first her forehead, then her chin and finally just above her nose.  Each pose, she held momentarily.  Though no words came from her, I could hear the prayer of thanks given in each move of her body.'
     'This prayer, she repeated in the other three directions until she finally came to rest facing east.  I felt a tingling and saw that my skin was alive with goose bumps.  As I looked into the forest, I saw the air alive with energy, a shimmer of white dancing atop the forest floor.  And the stillness was as nothing I had ever before experienced.  In that moment, I knew the "peace that passes understanding", I felt the universe in my soul, I was One with everything.'
     'We didn't talk for a while after that.  There were no words.  But, as we drove I saw God in everything, in the flight of the eagle, the rush of the rivers, the sweeping of the pine crowns in the wind, the laugher of a chipmunk...'
     'Loveworthy reminded me that day.  Life is sacred.  It is a gift.  We are part of that gift.  And, we can let that gift flow through us to heal ourselves and to send out to others in love.'
     'Life is sacred.'

Innocence

     'That was the thing about Loveworthy.  She never lost her innocence.  She looked upon life as a child, full of wonder and curiousity and reverance.  She could feel the sacred, always.  Sacred was not a thing she "did on Sunday."  It was a part of her walk, how she perceived the world, how she dealt with life.  To her, it was all sacred.'
     'Me.  I'm not so lucky.  I been through a lot in my years, seen a lot that I didn't want to see, you know?  And, seeing all that stuff has a tendency to put a hard coat around your heart that grows crusty and thick over the years.  Gets so you can hardly feel the beat of your own heart, so deep it is in that crusty black.'
     'So, I been wondering of late.  What is this thing "innocence"?  Is it a thing that you only get once in life, before anything bad ever happens to you?  Is it fated to be a mere memory of a distant past?  And, if that's true, how could Loveworthy hold it so long?'
     'I told this to some friends, and we decided to try to remember this thing innocence and see if we could feel it again, if it is possible to be innocent when you're an old woman.'

     "So what is innocence?" I asked.
     "Well" started Hazel, "It's my grandson in the playset.  He's innocent."
     "Yeah" joined Tomasina.  "My grandchildren are innocent too.  But, do you know any adults who are innocent?"
     'That stopped us all.  Course, we thought of Loveworthy, but who else?  Try as we might, we couldn't come up with anyone else.  So we decided to try a different approach.  Perhaps, we thought, we didn't remember the definition of innocence.  So, Hazel our book nerd, went and got her dictionary.
     "Innocent...not guilty of a crime or offense" she offered.
     "No, Hazel." claimed Rita.  "We're not talking about that kind of innocence.  We all have that kind of innocence, except Claire, of course."  To that, Claire laughed and carefully started rolling another of those special "cigarettes" she so loved.  "Yeah," Claire added.  "Give us a different definition."
     "OK, give me a second" said Hazel as she once again consulted her dictionary.
     "Uncorrupted" said she.  "Pure and uncorrupted by evil, sin, or experience of the world."
     Looking knowingly at Tomasina, Rita smiled, "You remember that time in the treehouse with Shawn?!"  While Tomasina blushed with a twinkle in her eye, Rita continued, "We've all had our 'treehouse' experiences.  That definition rules out everyone but the priests...well, maybe!  Try again, Hazel.  What else does it say?"
     "Naive....more trusting or naive than most people through lack of experience of life or failure to recognize the motives of others" continued Hazel.
     "Ignorant of something...having very little or no knowledge of something" she finished.
     'We sat silently for a while, pondering all those definitions, comparing them to our own lives, holding them as a flame to reveal the lives of others we had known.  The silence lingered on and with it, a sense of dejection settled upon us.  "How could it be" I wondered, "that among all us old women we couldn't find anyone aside from Loveworthy that stood up to those definitions?"
     'Finally, Tomasina stated the obvious.  "It's clear to me that innocence is something you are destined to lose.  You are born with it and it dies as soon as you experience life.  Some are lucky to keep their innocence longer, but others lose it just as soon as they enter this life!"
     "Yeah.  Just think how vulnerable you'd be if you didn't learn about the dangers in life" joined Hazel.  "Ignorance is dangerous.  You gotta know about hot stoves and dangerous men and dark alleys or you plain won't survive!"
     'Drawing deeply on her "cigarette", Claire considered the thoughts of her friends.  I loved the smell of those "cigarettes".  One time, Claire convinced me to try one.  I never laughed so hard in my whole life...cept that is, till the next time she offered me one!  But, that's another story...
     'Anyway, then Claire spoke what weighed heavy on all our hearts.  "How can it be possible that we was all destined to lose innocence?  The animals keep it.  The children is born with it.  We was all children one time.  It feels like a death to me.  I don't like that!  Maybe, we just haven't figured it out yet.  Don't you guys want it?  Do you even remember how it felt?"
    'At that, a light glinted in each woman's eyes as she reached far back to capture the long-gone feelings, to recall the innocence that was hers.  We sat quietly for a long time, just reaching back and remembering...and smiling.'
     "I remember" started Claire...

Claire Voyyd

This story picks up from ‘Innocence’, posted on June 24^th.

‘I lived in Southern California.  I was the classic “California Girl”.  At least I strived to be anyway.  And believe it or not, I had a figure to die for!

‘We had another bonfire party going.  The booze was flowing and there was a fog of MaryJane floating all round us.

‘I don’t know what it was.  But, something felt different.  I was just settling into the party when suddenly the voices and music were silenced.  It was really trippy!  I could see my friends’ lips moving, but couldn’t hear their voices?!  I knew the radio was still playing because kids were dancing on the beach.  And, I could see them laughing.  It was the strangest thing.

‘Then, I realized I could hear the ocean and the wind.  It was a gentle night, just a slight breeze.  But, I could hear the waves lapping against the shore!  And, I could hear the wind blowing through the trees on the dunes.

‘My friend elbowed me then. Apparently, she had been saying something to me, but I hadn’t heard.  Now, she was yelling at me.  I knew that exacerbated look.  But, I couldn’t hear her.

‘Any other time, this would have totally freaked me out.  But, it was mesmerizing…’

Claire emerged from her reverie long enough to see the smirks on the women’s faces.  She snapped, ‘No!  I wasn’t stoned!  Geeze, you guys!  Give me a break!  It’s not like I was always stoned!’  Flustered by Claire’s rebuke, the women sank into their chairs, tight lipped and stone-faced. 

She took a deep breath, and then a long, slow drag from her ‘cigarette’.  No one moved.  ‘Anyway, I left the bonfire.  It was the wrong energy.  Even though I couldn’t hear it, it was too noisy.  I wanted desperately to be away from all of it.  So, I left to follow the call of the ocean.

‘The closer I moved to the ocean, the louder and more insistent became its call.  Its pull was resolute, rhythmic, steady.  I walked along the shore, listening, watching the waves in the moonlight, feeling like I was finally where I was supposed to be.  Nothing else existed or mattered.

‘The moon set alight the water in front of me.  The light countered every step I took to move closer, drifting away yet calling always, and never, never allowing the gap to close.  I don’t know how long I walked that night. 

‘Suddenly, Mark was next to me.  I felt his arm slide effortlessly around my waist, his hand caress my bare stomach.’  Claire’s face reddened as she recalled the moment. ‘It…no, he, was an offense, an insult to the sacredness of that moment!’  Tightening her fist, she exclaimed, ‘It was all I could do to not belt him right then and there!  How could he be so arrogant and impudent?!

‘I cut off his dim-witted come-on before he could get it out of his mouth and threw his arm away from me!’  Smiling contentedly, Claire continued, ‘I told him to get the hell away from me…in no uncertain terms!’

The women giggled at this.  They loved Claire’s audacious and confident nature.  They wished they could be more like her.  They had grown reliant on hearing her stories for through them, the women could live for just a moment as a beautiful, outspoken, carefree girl…and never have to step outside their tightly-bound zones of comfort.

‘The moon on the water lingered, waiting for me to dispel the rude intrusion into our space.  When I turned my gaze back, it lingered still, whispering to me in the rhythmic pulse of the waves-on-sand.  “Relax,” it said.  “Breath, feel the flow, be one with the flow…”

‘And again, I was walking.  The waves lapped at my feet.  The water was warm, inviting, luring…’  Claire’s voice drifted as if carried by the sea, tranquil, quiet.  The women watched in the hush, barely breathing, feeling the sand beneath their toes, captivated by the light.

‘The next thing I remember,’ whispered Claire, ‘I was swimming along the shore, following the moon.  The water caressed my skin as I rose and fell with the undulating sea.  No longer was I Claire.  I was not even human.  

'I was the swell of the waves, the salt in the air.  I was every droplet of moist, warm water washing over the land, supple, lush and full, divine and succulent.  I was the sea.'

Mouths agape, the women stared into the vision, feeling alive in ways they had long since forgotten, desiring more...

Remembering Innocence

this story continues from Claire Voyyd, October 13, 2013

Eyes closed, breathing deeply to center herself, ‘OhhhKayyy then,’ started Tomasina.  ‘Thanks. Claire.’  Pausing, ‘I’m having a hard time seeing how this story fits with innocence.’ 

‘I don’t know,’ laughed Rita.  ‘But I’m feeling like I need to go off and finish this in private!’

‘Rita!’ gasped Hazel.  ‘I swear, you can take the sweet out of chocolate!’

‘What?!’ retorted Rita.  ‘Claire shared the chocolate!  I’m just savoring it!’

‘I’m sorry!  But I just don’t see how sexual escapades have anything to do with innocence!’ objected Hazel.

‘My dear Hazel.  You really have to live a little before your tired old body can’t rise to the challenge!’ challenged Rita, laughing.

‘hmph…,’ sighed Hazel, rolling her eyes in exasperation.

‘Hazel,’ Estelle chided, ‘You know better than to goad Rita like that!  She gets your goat every time!’ Rita smiled smugly.

‘Well, I don’t get it!’ insisted Hazel.  ‘Will someone please tell me what sex has to do with innocence!?’

‘I’ve been thinking,’ stated Tomasina, unruffled by the exchange.  ‘Sex does have to do with innocence.’  Pausing to reconsider… ‘Yes, it absolutely does.’

‘What?!’ asked Hazel and Rita in concert.

‘Well, think of it this way.  We were all born sexual beings…’ she started.

‘Cept Hazel,’ teased Rita.

‘It’s part of who we are,’ continued Tomasina, ignoring Rita.  ‘It’s our physical make up.  I know sex can be used to hurt people,’ she continued, glancing at Estelle.  ‘But, in itself…and between people who love each other…it is a beautiful thing.’

‘You don’t have to love someone for sex to be beautiful' challenged Rita.  'God knows there’d be a lot fewer divorces if people could just get some without having to make all kinds of promises to boot!’

‘Rita,’ scowled Estelle.

‘No, I mean it,’ claimed Rita.  ‘I’ve had plenty of experiences where we didn’t play that game.  We were just horny…okay, sorry Hazel.  We were aroused.  Is that better?’ she asked with a wicked grin. 

‘That’s not what I was taught!’ retorted Hazel, growing ever more uncomfortable with the exchange, but unable to stop herself.

‘But, you don’t get it, Hazel,’ explained Rita.  ‘Just because we didn’t love each other didn’t mean we were perverts.  We had physical needs and we were attracted to each other.  We had some fun and then moved on.  I’m still friends with some of those guys.’

‘Yeah, I guess I’ve had a couple of those experiences,’ Tomasina reflected.  ‘The sexual act was beautiful…but for me it was only when there was a shared respect for the other person.’

‘hmmm,’ she continued.  So…then, are we saying that sex can be an expression of innocence?’

Estelle turned to Claire.  ‘Claire,’ she said.

Claire’s eyes reflected the sea, her ‘cigarette’ smoldered in her hand.

‘Claire…’ spoke Estelle again.

Jolted from the dark wet, Claire struggled to refocus in the present.  ‘Yeah?’

‘Claire,’ said Tomasina, gently.  ‘Can you tell us how your story relates to innocence?’

‘That wasn’t the end of it,’ whispered Claire, eyes turning inward again.

‘Eww!’ started Rita, grinning mischievously, to which Estelle threw up her hand.  Rita sat back, knowing better than to push Estelle.

‘I was swimming,’ offered Claire after a moment.  ‘It was dark except that patch of moonlight on the water.  I was following it, thinking that if I swam far enough I could finally catch it.

‘It was so quiet out there.  The birds were asleep.  No one was out there cept me…  All I could hear was the splash of my arms against the waves.  For awhile, I practiced dipping my arms into the water perfectly, so that I could swim without sound.

‘And then, I heard a big splash.  It broke me out of that trance.  You know you’re in trouble in southern California when you hear a sound like that!  I have friends missing arms…’

The women gasped as one, ‘Oh my god!’ whispered Estelle.

‘So, I froze, partly cuz I thought that’s what you are supposed to do, but mostly cuz I couldn’t move. I, literally couldn’t move!

‘And, I couldn’t think. I couldn’t get my brain to work and I couldn’t move my body.  I was really starting to freak!

‘In the moonlight, I saw it touch the surface of the water.  It was swimming circles around me!  It was then I had one of those moments you’ve heard about…you know, when you see your entire life in 2 seconds?  I was sure I was gonna die…and I couldn’t do anything to stop it!’

Claire paused, frozen in the moment.  The women held their breath, waiting.

‘Then, it turned.  Started coming directly at me.  I was trying desperately to get my arms to move, to clench a fist.  I thought if I was going to die, I was going to go out fighting.  I was going to punch that damn shark, right in the snout!

‘But I couldn’t move.  And, it was getting closer.

‘And then I felt a spirit surround me.  I realized it was the spirit that had lured me into the water.  It was the light-on-the-waves.  And, I felt a sense of peace that I can’t even start to describe.  You know the one described in the Bible…the peace that passes understanding?

‘Well, that’s what it felt like, anyway.

‘And as that peace surrounded me, it melted the freeze that had captured my body.  I could move again.

‘The shark was getting closer, but I no longer wanted to hit it.  I just waited, feeling total peace and quiet.

‘At the last moment, I closed my eyes.  I could see the moon-on-the-water inside my mind.  I felt the wave from the approaching shark and heard his fin gliding through the water.

‘I waited…’

‘A moment later, it brushed against me.  It was sleek and smooth and cold.  I opened my eyes just as it turned its head.

‘We stared into each other’s eyes.  It smiled at me.  Then, it gently nudged its head under my arms.

‘And, I finally realized.  It wasn’t a shark.  It was a dolphin.  It was holding me up in the water, making gentle sounds that I knew meant, “It’s okay.”

‘I held on to its fin, and feeling my grasp, it slowly started swimming, carrying me along in its wake…

‘It was the most incredible thing.  I felt like I was flying, but in water!  I was in the stars, gliding through the Milky Way, sliding down the rings of Saturn, perched on the North Star…

‘The dolphin brought me to a landing and after watching me climb to shore, it smiled again, that dazzling smile…and it left.

After a long, enraptured silence, Tomasina spoke, ‘Innocence…’

‘Yes,’ whispered Claire.  ‘Innocence.’

‘Totally giving yourself over to life, right?’ posed Rita.

‘Allowing the possible to unfold,’ ventured Hazel.

‘Letting go old ideas,’ shared Estelle, ‘so you can see things fresh.’

‘Can we recapture that?  After so many years?  After all the heartaches and the sharks that really did bite?’ pondered Tomasina.

‘I guess that’s the question, then,’ stated Estelle.  ‘Can we remember and bring back our own innocence?’

‘And one more question,’ offered Tomasina.  ‘Assuming we want to bring back our innocence, how would it benefit us now, having most of our lives behind us and feeling more vulnerable than ever…’

Estelle

‘That was the other day!’ shouted Estelle.  ‘It don’t matter to me today!’  Turning, she stomped off.

‘To where?  To where am I stomping?!’ she chided herself.  ‘I can’t stop now.  Have to keep going or they gonna pester me some more!’  Stomping, slamming a door for good effect… ‘Okay, guess I don’t have a choice.  Have to go to my bedroom…again.  Damn it!’

‘For once, I’d just like to sit in the living room without them forever nagging me to “open up”!  I open up every day, don’t I?  I say “hi”.  I say “thank you”.  What more do they want?!”

She slammed her door…for more effect, and sat heavily on her twin bed.  ‘Now what?’ she thought.  ‘Suppose I could read that magazine again.  Trouble is,’ she thought looking at the 1999 date, ‘it’s a bit old.’

‘Oh well, nothing else to do.’  So, she gathered up the magazine, found her rocker and wrapped her shawl around her shoulders.  It was going to be another long day and at some point she was going to have to venture out to get her soup.  ‘I’ll deal with that when it gets here’ she thought.  Turning the page on her magazine, she promptly fell asleep.

‘One of the blessings of age,’ she would say upon awakening.

Things Didn't Turn Out the Way They Was Supposta

'For the lifeame, I don't know why you is always pestering me!' shouted Estelle, emerging at last from her bedroom.  'Can't even come out of my room to get cereal without your.."Estelle, are you okay?"  "Estelle, how are you feeling?"  Estelle, this...Estelle that!' she snorted, winding up her legs to shuffle to the kitchen. Muttering to herself, 'Can't get a moment's peace around here.'

The women, gathered around the kitchen table for morning coffee, watched Estelle's entrance in silence. Rita grinned to herself, for she knew this was the opening to yet another Loveworthy story...soon as Estelle could get out of her own way, that is.

Tomasina walked to the cupboard for Estelle's favorite mug and met Estelle at the stove.  'Would you like some hot water, Estelle?' she asked.  'hmph...yes, of course I want hot water!  How else would the tea leaves steep?! came the retort.  Tomasina smiled and set the water to cooking as Estelle found her private stash of tea, black tea...not that new age tea with all that stuff in it that shoulda stayed in the ground where it came from...

Finally, tea in hand, Estelle eyed the women and as was her custom, decided to sit down with them.  Her chair was open and waiting, her newspaper folded on her placemat.  As she tottered to the table, the women returned to their morning chat.  This day, the focus was on Hazel's granddaughter, who despite years of education and experience, could not find work.

Puzzled, Tomasina asked, 'Hazel, they say the economy is better than ever now.  Unemployment is down. People are spending more.  The housing market is stronger.  Certainly, there must be work out there for Jen.'

'I know.  I don't get it either' worried Hazel.  'I don't keep up on the news like you, Tomasina.  All I know is that Jen is really smart.  She got top grades in her school.  She is applying for jobs all the time.  But, nothing comes through?!'

'Well,' started Rita, 'has she tried different kinds of work, or working for companies that she normally wouldn't consider?  What I'm getting at is, maybe she needs to be creative about this.  If the companies she is used to working for aren't buying her skills, maybe others are.  Maybe, she just has to repackage herself' brainstormed Rita.

'She was doing that, Rita.  Seems all last year, she was coming up with different strategies,' explained Hazel. 'That is not so much what worries me.'

'What is it then?' asked Tomasina, bringing muffins to table.

'It's that she's getting so down.  She's losing her confidence.  She told me the other day that she feels like an outsider, an outcast.  She's embarrassed to be around her colleagues.  She's avoiding getting together with friends because she is afraid they will ask her what she does and then she will have to tell them.  She said she feels like a failure...' Hazel's voice trailed off as tears welled in her eyes.

Taking it all in, Estelle finally commented, 'Well, it don't always turn out the way it was supposta.  It certainly hasn't for me!'

'What do you mean, Estelle?' asked Tomasina, the only one brave enough to approach Estelle on these occassions.

Shooting a firey look at Tomasina, Estelle held back her desire to leave and took a drink of her tea.  'I mean,'  she stated with  measured patience, 'Life is fulla disappointments.  I woulda said "just deal with it and get on".'  She paused.  'But Loveworthy...well, she thought differently.'  Rita grinned and sat back with her coffee, ready for the story.

Kentucky Fried

this story picks up from Things Didn't Turn Out the Way They Was Supposta, October 12, 2013

'Loveworth was always having get togethers,' smiled Estelle.  'I loved em cuz I didn't have to cook!  And there was always such a bussle about, kids running this way and that, dressed as Supergirl and Peter Pan. That Peter Pan outfit...' she laughed.

Rita, seeing the imminent detour in Estelle's story, asked, 'So, Loveworthy invited you to dinner?'

'Oh right, yes.  Welll, you know Loveworthy was not what I call a cook.  I mean, the kids was well fed and all.  And, she tried really hard in the kitchen, but well...it's better soma us just don't set foot in there.  But, like I said, I didn't have to cook, so I went.'

'This day, Loveworthy got it in her head to cook a chicken...whole.  My ma taught me how to do that when I was just a girl, but I think Loveworthy's ma never got around to teaching her,' Estelle recalled.  'Oh oh, I know where this is going!' laughed Rita.

'So, Loveworthy announced that she was doin a experiment,' Estelle continued.  'She was gonna roast this chicken whole, complete with stuffin.  She got the stuffin made and was goin about cleaning the chicken. They is really slippery, ya know,' she said, to which the women nodded in agreement.  'So, she couldn't get hold of it and kept dropping it in the sink.  I was tryin to tell her, but now her hands was all greasy and this time the chicken bounced in the sink!  That was too much.  I started laughing so hard, tears was rolling down my face.  And Loveworthy, she was laughing too, grabbin that chicken everywhich way and dropping it,' laughed Estelle.

'I'm amazed she didn't tear it from limb to limb!' started Rita.  'Or strangle it!' Claire added, choking on her laughter.

'Well, she couldn't strangle it, cuz it didn't have no head,' Estelle corrected.  'That was a good thing!' laughed Rita.  'Imagine what she would have done with a head?!'  The women were on a roll now, savoring the levity of the moment, lusting after the freedom to simply laugh.

'You is right bout that, Rita.  Loveworthy woulda had quite a time with a head,' Estelle reflected.  'So, then what happened?' encouraged Tomasina.

'Well, eventually the kids had to come in to see the bouncing chicken and the crazy ladies laughing.  They danced around for a bit and then ran off.  Last I heard, the girl was telling the little boy they oughta name their pet chicken.'  'Pet chicken??' asked Hazel.  'Why would they call it a pet chicken?  It was dinner?!'

'But mind you, they was used to Kentucky Fried,' Estelle explained.  'So, anyways they left and me and Loveworthy finally got hold of ourselves.  And Loveworthy finally got holda that bird.  It was right clean by then.  So she stuck it in the pot and stuffed it full othat stuffing.  She didn't know nothing bout tieing the legs and I didn't want to boss her, so she stuck the whole thing in the oven, just like that.

'We set the timer and went to find the kids.  A little later, the timer went off so Loveworthy went to check the chicken.  She was gone a long time.  We was playing Monopoly - I hate that game?!  And, it was her turn.  So, the kids started calling her.  They was getting crazy cuz she wasn't answering, so I went to get her.

'When I got to the kitchen, I saw her standing in front of the oven, staring.

'"It's alive," she whispered.  "What?!"  I asked.  "What's alive?"  "The chicken," she whispered, staring into the oven.  "Whachu sayin, girl?" I laughed.  "That bird is dead as a doorknob!  If it weren't dead when you got it, it was by the time you wuz done washing it!"

'"No, Estelle!  It's dead?!  Look!"  So, I leaned over and looked.  There it was, plain as day.  "See," pointed Loveworthy.  "Look, it's breathing..."  Sure enough, the chest was rising and falling, just like it was breathin?!'

'No way,' started Rita.  'Yes, it was breathin!' countered Estelle.  'But that always happens,' offered Tomasina.  'The liquid was boiling and causing the skin to rise and fall.'  'Yes,' agreed Hazel.  'I've seen that.' 'Me too,' agreed Claire.  'But it really does look like it's breathing.'  'Now, that's a picture!' laughed Rita.  'A headless chicken, half cooked, in the oven, breathing!'

'Well, Loveworthy was just starring at it, not movin.  And, as I watched, the breathin was regular, steady, just like normal,' Estelle mumored.  She sat silently, as if watching that chicken breathe.  'Pretty soon, the kids come runin in.  They was tired of calling their ma and was arguing over who would take her turn.

'They saw us standin there, so gathered all around us and looked into the oven.  The biggest boy saw it first, "Ma, it's breathin."  "See, I told you she is alive," said the little guy.  "She is Chicky.  And, she is alive."  The girl just stood there, staring like her mother.  "Ma!" cried the little boy, "We have to get Chicky out of the oven!  She's getting too hot!"

'At this, Loveworthy broke out of her trance,' recalled Estelle.  'Without closing the oven door, she gathered her kids asked about the Monopoly game.  "No, we can't play!" shouted the little guy.  "Yeah, we have to save Chicky first!" agreed the girl.  "Yeah, mom.  That is pretty weird," agreed the oldest.

'So, Loveworthy took the chicken out of the oven as the kids watched.  Then, relieved that Chicky was safe, we all went down to finish Monopoly,' Estelle continued.  'Monopoly never ends!' claimed Rita.  'I've been in games that lasted days!'  'Me too,' agreed Claire and Hazel in chorus.

'After the kids got goin in the game again, Loveworthy snuck into the kitchen and put the chicken back in the oven.  Later, when I was bout to explode from that damn game, Loveworthy called us all into dinner, thank god!' smiled Estelle.  'What Loveworthy couldn't do in the kitchen, she made up for in her table setting.  She used her momma's dishes and silver and a pretty lace tablecloth she got from Goodwill.  It was a right pretty table.  There was sweet potatoes and stuffin and greens and milk for everyone.  We all sat down.  The kids was hungry.

'Then, Loveworthy went to the kitchen.  She came back with that chicken on a nice dinner plate and a carving knife.  The kids was chattering bout who won the game when they all saw the bird.  The older kids stopped talking.  Then, the little guy recognized it and said, "Chicky?"  The older kids looked from Chicky to Loveworthy. The little guy asked, "Mommy, why is Chicky on a plate?!"

'Loveworthy didn't respond.  We all just sat there in silence.  "Why isn't Chicky moving?" asked the little guy. Chicky just laid there, all dressed up and not breathin.  Loveworthy weren't doin nothin and I was hungry, so I grabbed the carving knife and pulled Chicky to me.

'Just as I was bout to carve up dinner, the little guy screamed, "Don't kill Chicky!  Mommy, don't let granny kill Chicky!"  The girl said, "I'm not eating Chicky!  How can I eat our pet?"  And the oldest boy said, "I'm no really hungry, ma."  The little boy was crying now, "Chicky, don't kill Chicky," he kept sayin.  Estelle paused, lost in the memory.

'Well?' prompted Rita.  'What happened?  Did you cut up that old bird?'  'No,' said Estelle.  'I didn't cut it up.'

'What about dinner?' asked Hazel.  'Didn't you guys eat dinner?'  'Yes,' Estelle said, 'we ate the taters and greens.  But we couldn't eat the stuffin that was in the bird cuz the biggest boy said we'd be gutting it if we did and that set the little boy to cryin again.'

'But, what about the bird?' insisted Rita.  'You didn't eat the bird?'  'No,' said Estelle.  'We never ate the bird.  It just sat there in the middle of the table while we ate.'

'And then what?  What became of the bird?' asked Hazel.

'We had a funeral,' stated Estelle.  'Chicky is buried in the backyard next to the bird and fish and cat...and whatever else is buried back there, stuffin and all.'

The women laughed, their faces lined with puzzlement.  'That's a great story, Estelle,' laughed Claire.  'Yes,' agreed Tomasina.  'And, the moral?' asked Rita.

'Well, it's what I said in the beginning,' reminded Estelle, 'Things don't always turn out the way they was supposta.'  Looking at the confused women, Estelle continued, 'We was supposta have chicken for dinner!  Me, I woulda told those kids that Chicky was dinner and cut it up.  But not Loveworthy.'

'Yes,' said Claire.  'I think Loveworthy saw something more in that situation...more than dinner.'  'What do you mean?' puzzeled Hazel.  'She saw her kids facing death for the first time' stated Claire.  'Woah!' started Rita, 'That's intense!  It was dinner, for God's sake!'  'But, I think Claire's on to something,' said Tomasina. 'If all you ever saw was Kentucky Fried, would you know you were eating chicken?'  'Good point,' Rita agreed, 'and...'

'And,' continued Claire, 'correct me if I'm wrong here, Estelle, but I think Loveworthy decided that guiding her kids through their introduction to death was more important than eating that chicken.'  'So,' pondered Hazel 'the way things were supposed to go was to eat chicken for dinner.'  'Right,' said Claire.  'But,' chimed in Rita 'the way things went instead was a lesson in life.'  'Right again,' smiled Claire.  'So,' offered Hazel 'Loveworthy had the wisdom to see that this lesson was far more important than the money she spent on the chicken.'

'Yes,' I think that's it' affirmed Claire.  'And, she was able to step back from her original plan and allow a different course of events to follow,' added Tomasina.  'I think I get it,' reflected Rita.  'If she had stayed focused on chicken for dinner, she would have missed something else that was even more important.'

In the following silence, Hazel ventured, 'So, do you think my granddaughter might be missing something different...' she started.  'or more important,' interrupted Rita.  'if she stays focused on job search?' Hazel finished.  'Perhaps,' agreed Tomasina.  'Or....' pondered Claire, 'if she gets too focused on feeling bad and like a failure, she might forget that she really is a kewl young woman, and talented...'  Pausing, Claire turned to Estelle.  'What do you think?  Are we understanding what you meant?'

'That's all too deep for me,' bristled Estelle.  'I just know that things don't always turn out the way they was supposta.'  With that, Estelle pushed herself up from the table and tootered off, muttering....and, when her back was safely turned to the women...smiled.

Pausing for a Breath

I'm finding this story very hard to tell.
  It sends me into a place dark and dreary,
  tearful and forelorn.

So, I must break from it for a moment
  to remember the bright of day
  to feel, once again, hope
  and to rejoice in it all...
  especially that which is hard to face
  and hard to tell.

Namaste to all this day.
  turn your faces to the sun
  feel the warmth
  know that you are loved
  for All that you are

without reserve or request

to my readers

There is a bit of a story unfolding as I write.  However, because of my technical UNprowess, the 'chapters' (if you will) show on this blog from last to first.
So, if you are interested to see the flow that this story is starting to take, please read the first post and work your way backward.
The first post is 'Today, In the Shadow of Loveworthy'.
namaste to you all on this precious day!

Echoes in the Universe

Stilll

And in the profound quiet, a whisper
  then another
  and another

Whispers floating through space
  gently meandering
  no course
  only being

'What,' say I
  'do you bring?'

Whispers so far from
  the lips through which
  they gained their form

Detached now
  partial thoughts
  unembedded feelings
  fleeting brilliance
  disembodied consciousness

Listening, I hear
  the silence is alive with the whispers
  the commotion verges on chaos
  the possibilities infinite
  the future, the past, the now
  All One

Creation in a whisper
  lives completed in one breath
  worlds born and collapsed
  with a whisper

Reaching into the depths
  the whispers reveal
  the memories
  the ideals
  the thoughts
  the feelings

of so many
  of my self
  echoing through the universe

Stepping back from the self
  in this incarnation
  quieting the mind

to hear the silence

to witness the All

Echoes in the Universe

I am Fire Without Need

I felt a profound silence all about me.
  Looking into the darkness,
  I saw the firepit...empty
  the firecircle absent the souls
  so much a part of the magic

Silence

Beauty in the void

Stillness

Tranquility

And out of nothing
  there burst a fire
  white hot
  dancing
  shooting to the sky
  alive without fuel

She stepped from the fire
  white hair to her shoulders
  white leather covering her slender body
  the embodiment of All

'I am Fire Without Need'

My hands aglow
  the energy sparking, flowing
  one with the fire
  making the fire grow, fade, disappear, emerge

Connecting me to the All

I step into the fire
  white hot, but without menace
  flames dancing around me
  images of 'reality' fading

I am captured in a flame
  bursting to the sky
  letting go
  the flame separate now
  from the fire in the pit

I am Fire Without Need

Transcending material
  All spirit
  Only spirit

Merging now
  with souls torn and broken
  healing, loving, compassion
  exquisite, perfect love, grace

All is well

Invitations

You know that feeling...
  When you chance encounter
  a person or group of people

And  you realize...

'I already know you.
  We were to meet now.
  That was our plan.

We have work to do together
 and it is time to begin.

Namaste, my friend.'

So, how do you know when you
  are face-to-face with souls to whom
  you are pledged,
  with whom you have agreed
  to walk a certain path
  in this incarnation?

I would venture to say
  the knowledge is within you.
  It is couched in  the emotions that emerge
  as you stand in the presence
  of these other souls.

I would attune to the strength and veracity
  of the inspiration or ardor or ire you feel.
  Yes, ire.

For it is the authenticity and depth of the emotion
  that matters,
  not the particular emotion.

The work we are invited to initiate in this life
  is ultimately all within ourselves.

Any strong emotions, especially those that
  represent the dark within us,
  act as a harbingers of potential growth
  and healing.

And if we choose the path through that growth and healing,
  we can move more fully into our own potential
  and we can bring peace and healing to this world.

So, when you have those moments of recognition
  or when you feel a particularly strong emotion
  in response to someone,
  stop a moment.

Go inside your self
  to learn about this emotion.
  If you choose to follow the path
  of growth and healing it offers,
  then walk gently with a humble heart
  for you are on the path of the sacred.

Namaste