I just started reading The Elegant Gathering of White Snows by Kris Radish. It is a bit of synchronicity in my life. It is about a group of women who meet regularly - a support group of sorts. One night they start to walk, It turns into a pilgrimage. They begin to rip their hearts open for the others to see. They begin to affect and inspire the women around them.
One of the first stories is about a character being raped in her late teens. She doesn't talk about it. She feels bad and dirty. The writer nails it and it hit me hard.
I think this is a story of women finding their wild selves. Perhaps I have been led to this book to help me solve the riddle or maybe find the definition of wild. I talked to someone about that today. I tried to explain that at parties I am the one sitting quietly talking with one or two others. I am not the wild one dancing on the piano.
Still trying to define wild. I know wild has to do with my penchant for wandering barefoot in the forest. But I can't find a definition that fits. I will keep trying.
I walked to the store this afternoon. My body is changing. I am walking with more strength and flexibility. The word that came to me was: metamorphosis. When I talked to my son earlier this week he talked about the amount of respect he has for me. He said I wasn't perfect, but no one was, and my mistakes, my bad moments are far outweighed by my good ones. I may be beginning to believe him. I may be beginning to believe them. It is painful to accept though...aren't I screwed up?????
I'm going to trust that you are incredibly busy.
Love to you Maggie!
Clare
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