So, here I am, in Gainesville, Florida. Tall palm trees tower over me. Spanish moss dangles from the live oak trees and small acorn-like nuts fall noisily down, landing on the ground with sharp pops. I was running yesterday morning and I swiftly turned my head as the nuts fell behind me, thinking someone was chasing me down. Everywhere I walk, a nut cracks under my feet. And lizards, yes, lizards scurry out of my path. I saw one today standing vertically on a light post, and as he breathed, a red bubble popped out from under his chin. I am not sure what that was all about, but it was beautiful to watch. Another beautiful thing about Gainesville is the corn nuggets. Yes, corn nuggets. They are creamed corn, deep fried, served with creamy garlic dressing. My stomach is hurting terribly right now as a result of those nuggets, but boy were they good going down. And the sweet tea, well, let me just say, Divine.
So, why am I here in Gainesville? I am beginning a PhD program at
Wisdom University with a focus in art and healing. There are 25 students down here from all over the world. And after two long, rough days, I am beginning to sink in. As I was sitting on the floor today, listening to a speaker, I saw an inch and half long cockroach on the floor. He was lying on his back, all of his legs struggling in the air. I tried to flip him over, but I think he was dying. So, I left him in peace. Or in struggling. Either way, I left him. I have to say, I have felt a bit like the cockroach this week. I miss my family a lot. I miss my community. I miss Colorado and the cooler fall weather. I miss my tea, my sweaters, my knitting. It is 85 degrees down here, mosquitoes everywhere, I mean everywhere. I drank 3 teaspoons of vinegar because someone told me that mosquitoes don't like vinegar. Who does, I guess? They stayed away from me for the afternoon, but it could have something to do with the fact that I sprayed half a bottle of Off on myself, too. I have felt lonely in this newness. I have been wondering, what am I doing here? Until, this afternoon.
After the day, the students meet in what is called a process group, where we, of course, we process. There were about 15 of us there. I was sitting, or laying, on the floor, wrapped in my multicolored wrap, weaved with silver thread. When I wear this shawl, I can feel the Feminine, I can feel an inner mother inside of me who loves me, just holding me. The conversation began to turn towards topics outside of the room, and I felt fear come in. I can feel Fear blow in almost immediately. And then, I can't breathe for a moment. I have only know these people two days, keep in mind. And as I felt the Fear rush into the room, I felt Love churning deeply in my pelvis. It began to move up my body, to my belly, my chest, and my throat. And I could not contain it. When Love wishes for me, or any of us, to speak on it's behalf, IT SPEAKS. I began to let my body speak. I raised my hand and then began to cry. I mean, CRY. And I shouted, I cannot breathe in here. LOVE IS WAY BIGGER THAN ALL OF THIS, I said. We must breathe love back into our world, especially in the parts that are VERY VERY DARK. My judging them, and hating them, only hold me away from Love, away from myself. When all it wants to do, is move through me. Love wants to heal the world. Not by pushing the darkness aside, whether it be in hospitals, prisons, governments, our partners, our neighbors, and ultimately, in ourselves. Love wants IN. Love wants to mingle in our darkness.
This kind of Love actually includes our suffering.
This Love is so big, it can hold every part of us and our world. If only we can trust it. And I did today, I tell you. And I can also tell you, I felt naked. Vulnerable. And more alive that I have felt all week.
And as I sat on the porch in a a rocking chair, waiting for my new friends to go to dinner, one woman came out and screamed,
I want to do the Love dance! And did she ever. She screamed, danced, and got down with Love. And soon, another woman came out and danced with Love, then another and then finally, I got up and danced with them. Thank you God, for another day on this beautiful, broken, well-Loved planet. What a gift.
