seven beings

Early morning 

I was away all weekend at a women's retreat, in West Virginia. The area was so remote, there was no internet - which was sheer delight, to be honest. 

It was wonderful to be in quiet and beauty - and to be in the company of women of all different ages. 

I also came face to face with a few different non-human beings. This is the wonder of nature!

I have this (perhaps quirky) habit of googling "spiritual significance of [xyz]" when I have a surprise encounter with an animal or an insect. Today, I took some time to look each up in my habitual way - and I wrote a poem about these, just for fun. 

The poem presents the 'seven beings' in order of appearance over the weekend: a tick, a turtle, a red-winged blackbird that I saw numerous times, a snail, a whippoorwill, a flock of geese, and a spider.

(Oh, let me add - the tick did not bite me; shortly after I arrived, someone else was dealing with this. She was completely fine, the 'poppy seed-size' deer tick was found pretty much right away, having no opportunity to infect her, thankfully. With this as my arrival surprise, I kept myself lathered in bug spray all weekend.)

Hope you enjoy this!

 seven beings joined us

tick arrived so cleverly

nestled on the arm

suggesting the discovery

what undermines energy

reminding of equanimity

turtle stood to the side 

of the path uphill

and patiently waited 

for all to understand

our interconnectedness

red-winged blackbird 

danced across the field

greeting 

walkers

porch talkers

those in quiet contemplation

always dancing

filled with motion

kindling inner spirit

snail slowed midstep

stretched across the path

playfully whispering 

no matter where you go

home is always with you

whippoorwill was regaled 

by our laughter and memories

knowing these as well

and sang out the question

what do you hear within

flock of geese flying 

in formation as we sat

together on the porch

visually representing

disruption by the divine

in the midst of worship

spider suddenly appeared

circling scrambling emphasizing

birth growth death rebirth

demanding all be cherished

seven beings joined us

I have a few of their individual photos, lol -

I met this snail on a walk

this dear one joined me on my bench during worship - I was not impressed

there's a red-winged blackbird here somewhere, hahaha! 

turtle lumbering down the path from my bunkhouse

___________________

It's Tuesday and I am participating in the

 Slice of Life.  

Thank you, Two Writing Teachers, for creating this supportive community 

of teacher-writers!

She's here

I am participating in the
Tuesday Slice of Life.
All participants are writing about one moment, one part of their day.

A big thank you to Two Writing Teachers for providing this unique opportunity
for teacher-writers to share and reflect.

Sweet girl, so fragile, so impulsive. She's here. One small plastic bag of clothes, a laptop, and a phone. What are the five things you would grab if you were fleeing? She just took off. Hurt, frustrated, spitting angry, driving eight hours and mentally chewing through every slight, every unkind word, every thing her parents ever did or said. Of course, they love her dearly. Her Dad, so strong, always certain, always steady - he must be off balance now...thinking, what the hell? Where did this attitude come from? What was she thinking? How dangerous! To simply take off like that. Her Mom, like me, having had a troubled relationship with her own mother - now having to live out this dear child's rejection. Oh, I feel certain it is not a forever rejection. It's a heartfelt, 24 year old, nobody understands me period of rejection.

I'm in the midst of this mess. The thick of it. I feel strangely serene, sure. We need to shelter her for now. She needs to be here for a bit. The little girl in the spare room. Nothing fancy here. A bit of a retreat, I hope. A few days to look at things differently. Or longer? She spent less than an hour with us last night and went upstairs. I woke up thinking, she's going to need to wash those clothes soon and she doesn't know where our washer is. She knows not this house, she knows not the cereal, the downstairs shower, the toothpaste supplies, the dailyness. I'll be gone to work very early, without seeing her. What to leave a note about? We love you. Be well. It's going to be okay.