Zen and the art...of life

Hey Mags,

You are not crazy. You are zen.  You are in the moment, and dealing with each surprise the universe lobs at you.  And you are most likely doing it all with grace.

Physical play...I still roll down the hill out front.  I still like to sled with the grandkids.  I really like going to the creek and looking for crayfish or building dams.  I like being outside.

I like walking in the trees.  I like singing loud outside.  I love hanging laundry...

Little joys...the ways we let sunshine into our souls!

I like harvesting and cooking and wildcrafting herbs.

Life can be light and playful...

Unfortunately, I don't let enough play seep into my life...

The gift of a day like today for you, is that everything happened at once.  You are now good for months.  Wondering how your son is going to pay for this latest accident...life is interesting some days!

I had an interesting chain of events that has opened life to possibilities.  The editor of a favorite magazine invited reminiscences.  I emailed a note.  He responded.  It was very friendly. A few weeks later I got an email from someone else in another department asking for my hometown because they wanted to publish my note...which I did not write with that in mind. I was surprised.

But the other night, when I couldn't sleep, I wondered if they needed writers.  I sent a quick email to the editor, and asked. He responded immediately and asked me to make some pitches to a specific editor, but copy him in all my correspondence.

My brain is buzzing and bursting and bustling with excitement, with potential!

I haven't been sharing my bus stories.  I shared a seat and some deep conversation with a young man, who told me that for the sake of clarity, he wanted me to know he was trans.  He was born intersex, and had to make a decision.  He liked stones and herbs, and shamanistic type stories and experiences.  He had been through a lot of abuse with his family of origin, leading to even more chaos in his life.

He said he felt like he needed to write his story.  And we talked about stones. He gave me one to pass onto my youngest to help her sleep.  He was working intuitively.  Then I asked him how far he was on his book.  He said two pages.  He stopped because he was having a hard time remembering and retelling the stories of abuse.

And I felt like Spirit took over. I began to speak, and he was looking into my eyes. He was listening with his Spirit.  I was a sacred moment.  I told him he had to write the story. He had to write the story sooner than he thought.  There were young people like him who needed to hear him. They need him.  I told him that his fear of the abuse was simply a wall of fear.  He just had to step through it, and he would be fine and whole on the other side.  He is no longer that young person who was abused.  He repeated that line. Then I told him I wanted an autographed copy of the book as soon as it was published.

He promised.

And we are Facebook friends.

How has the rest of your day been?

Sending many hugs, much love,

Clare