As long as the effort is applied from a place of compassion and service, the cultivated skills of an artist can be a gateway to a higher understanding.
We are all in mourning for the journey we have been on to get ourselves here. In this wonderful and amazing moment in time, on our timelines, in her-story.
One of the older women rose from her chair and strode over to us. Her hair was stringy and greasy like Stinky Boy’s but she looked strong and confident.
I close my eyes as I lean against the tree, quieting my mind in silent meditation. I breathe deeply, inhaling the soft, earthy fragrance of the forest.