Montana Wolf

Monday, November 15, 2010

On Target

I talk and teach of the confluence of the planetary and personal souls. Of intense times. How we are in this reckoning together. So why would my life be any different? I say yes to one thing that should be simple, even freeing, and just like that a wave of new details comes from out of the blue and swamps my life. As if one moment I'm standing outside taking in the spectacle of the backlit, snow-capped La Plata peaks and ker-plunk, a wave of the white stuff slides off the roof and buries me up to my crotch. Ya. Kinda like that.

Last week I spoke at the Mancos Libray on the subject of "Saced Place, Holy Wild: Caught in the Spiritual Crosshairs." I followed that up with a workshop for women in which we dove ever deeper into the call of the times; how to maneuver and cushion ourselves in the midst of muddle. The same week my x-husband took a stroll down flip-out lane and I found myself moving my things out of storage at our home. And as if the universe wasn't quite satisfied with the mix, I received an invitation to house sit and care for the beautiful farm home of two dear people. Thus, this past weekend I moved twice (from house to storage; from La Perla to house sit) and conducted the most amazing workshop I have ever done.

It is Monday morning.  I have claimed my writing space in the farmhouse. Green chili beef stew simmers in the crock pot (this farm raises organic beef) and a light snow falls outside, draping the earth in a veil of peace. I am cocooned in silence except for the occasional sound of the frig; the muted tic-toc of the clock on the wall. Down the road a bit is a wild turkey scavenging for acorns along the Mancos River. She has an arrow through her breast that protrudes several inches into the air  from both sides; compliments of an autumn bow-hunter.  She eats. She follows along with her flock.  She flies into the cottonwood trees to roost at night. In short, she carries on with pierced flesh, learning to live with her role of target.

She, the ultimate teacher. We must all learn to live these days with an arrow through our breast.

1 comment:

  1. OMG Christina!!! This story pierces my heart! AAARRGGHH!!!