(Accelerating...)
I am excited to bee here, now,
typing this
because, truth be told,
when I reflected on how I had not yet posted for today, I realized that
I missed "you." You who are a collective consciousness with your own beautiful face and powerful name. "You" receiving my typing on this screen right now and who has become flesh and bone.
I know this, because one of "you" just left Las Raices only minutes ago,
after a wonderful stroll to my outdoor office
where we spoke about our individual strengths as well as to your feminism.
You shared about your commitment to addressing all systems of oppression and dominance, including 'rape culture' as I just marveled at how a big, 6' tall white bear of a man could bee so courageous.
I was sure to laugh uproariously loud and to marvel in the sweetest fruit of these shared moments in time as a means to continue to encourage you. "You're so alive!" you said. "What else is there to do?" I asked, shrugging my shoulders, and waving my hands.
And as the events and circumstances flow all around me, spiraling me up and away into a vortex of healing then spitting me out into the fiery flames of LOVE,
I sit still in the knowing that "THIS IS IT." ~
Your smile; our knowing glance;
our hands touching; my reassuringly patting your leg; your showing up at my door willing to inquire; your song strummed softly on a guitar; our soft whispers and raucous conversation; your steady pulse knocking out a magical rhythm on the drum; our sitting in circle together, knee to knee; our dancing across the river of time, together; Buckbeat, the "undernourished and beak-twisted" chicken, being laid to rest under the Tangerine tree; people coming and others going; experiences ending and new tales beginning.
"Story IS Medicine," I told A.L. at the front door tonight. "And, you're a great story teller," he responded. "AS ARE YOU," I replied.
