Accidents

Apparently,  I was due for an accident. and, since I've never broken anything or ever been in hospital, this one had to cover both of those at once. A broken arm and leg, both left side. Thankfully, I will heal, my trusty K9 companions at my side, and hubby taking care of us all. A little rearranging, and all that I need is nearby!

Deep Within

Incredible. Awe inspiring. I will never again be able to walk Mother Earth without reflecting upon the beauty She holds within; birthed to us, gestated, menstruated, bleeding all the colors and shades of rainbow minerals, earthen glory outshining even the stars in Her diversity. Splendid. Magnificent. 

Deep gratitude for eyes to have seen within this immersion Her deep secrets and treasures revealed -- I weep in Her presence to know Her glory above and below.

I was able to shift my focus and receptors to enjoy the crowded sensation of going to the Tucson Gem Show and so glad I did! We were blessed by chilly, cloudy morning so the crowds were held off a few hours and I was able to thoroughly adapt to and enjoy the exhibits and displays of hundreds of thousands of gems, minerals, rocks, and fossils. 

From this immersion, I was gifted with not only a wonderful day of walking, exploration and delight in Ron’s company, but also a visceral connection with Gaia’s inner world of embodiment as Mother Earth. We’ve all been exposed to the beauties of silver and gold, emerald and diamond, of amber and salt crystals in smaller amounts, through shop windows, special jewelry. But how to experience the abundance and sheer magnitude that truly pervades the depths of Earth Mother? An "world's largest" exhibit that is spread throughout an entire city can express this to some degree. 

As I walked in reverence among the familiar and exotic unknown, I simultaneously gave thanks for the joy of Gaia’s splendor and offered healing for the penetration She had been subjected to by those who may have been thoughtless seekers of jeweled treasures. 

The sheer bounty and magnificence was nearly overwhelming during my first outing on Tuesday but yesterday, after shifting my perception and placing some conscious energetic boundaries, the day and its grandeur were amazing ... I was such a small piece of the macrocosm that is Gaia. “Deep in the earth I go...” indeed! 

I could imagine myself on a trail tunneling through cave after cave where She displayed remarkable wonders with infinite variety. At some moments I could know my shallow breathing as the awe swept away my air, and at others I was vibrating in rapid-pounding, pulsing, foot-tapping joy as Her gorgeous rock and ancient fossils surrounded me on all sides. 

Whenever and wherever I walk now I will wonder what beauty lies beneath the surface. Wondering, if I go deeply enough, beyond the soil that grows my food, beneath the water table that slakes my thirst, beneath the ever-expanding veins of Gaia’s blood, will I find new wonders? More beauty and heart-breaking magnificence? This is never to discount the beauty above, or the rich dark soil, or the broad expanse of sands that shimmer or the deep red rock of a mountain, or the warm brown tones of tile. These are gentle, soothing, life giving resonances that cradle and support. But now I also feel further and know other wonders previously hidden or felt they were ‘elite’ to a select few. The bounty of the rocks available shows once more that Gaia always provides enough for everyone ... and more than enough were we to be conscious of Her treasures. She is the ultimate artist and Creatrix. I was humbled by the artistry She holds within Her body earth. We take out and use these gifts -- shining, cutting, polishing ... but all begins with Her and within Her. 

She is creativity and inspiration and beauty beyond compare. I am but a unique cell among billions that grow out of Her. And the stones speak, the earth calls, Her voice crystal clear.

An unexpected experience was when we stumbled upon the African Art Village, see my post on Ancestors ... 

paradise

Striding along the walk, crossing over the lines, established trees with their white skeletons showing through thin skin provide spotty shade.
All flow is in one direction, a single purpose, we move toward stories and fun, footsteps rapid we are like letters streaming from fluid ink across thirsty parchment.
Feel our common intent.

Walking, talking, quiet voices echo the hush of library sanctity, and then other streams of equally eager yet more resounding voices flow into ours and ours into theirs, our creative juices mixing together as the pace quickens in anticipation.
My heart flutters--what will it be like?
Location unknown, grounds unfamiliar to my feet, and yet I hurry so as not to miss even a single moment.
Turn a corner, really a curve that is gentle and easy to navigate, and see a hive of activity with colors and textures clamoring for attention more loud than even the voices of swelling crowds.
This edge is only the beginning.
Shoulders bump and bodies collide.
Some hurry while others meander creating ripples among the flow.
A carnival celebrating words and stories.
I smell the kettle corn and my mouth waters with desire, filling with juices.
Balloons bob and weave as they are tugged along by eager children being themselves towed by book-loving parents.
The chaos, or what seems that way, is exciting yet overwhelming as I read signs and trace my finger along lines of a map.
Where is it?
A bump from the side and I lose my place.
Farther?
I continue, a slightly impatient air arises within as I feel my body tense. Release it.
Blocked ahead, go the other way, wind around and back again as a stroller nearly runs over my exposed toes. A close call.
There!
My gaze latches onto an arrow pointing to the large brick building to my left that is the destination I've been seeking.
Phew!
So close yet it seems to take forever to part the wide river of people in order to turn and swim in a cross-wise direction to the primary flow.
And finally, I arrive, plopping down on an auditorium seat in a moderately sized lecture hall; the perfect size, I thought, except that, as I watch the last few minutes tick away before the presentation begins, people are turned away at the door. 
Seating full. No more room. "I'm sorry ... fire codes ..." I hear only bits of conversation, the soft but firm voices of volunteers as they transform into sentries.
And that becomes the pattern for these two days, class after class.

No time to wait in long food lines though as an amazing class could be missed.

People scurry in and out of bathrooms faster than I've ever seen!

Thankfully, the majority of people seem to be here for the tents housing books for sale in all genre, or simply to soak up the atmosphere of a festival on these bright, warm days so normal here yet still a wonder to any recent transplants like me.
A rare opportunity to hear so much great experience, advice and wisdom coming directly from the voices of authors who have traveled the writer's path and had their work recognized.
In every class, there is near-silence until Q&A at the end. 
I can feel myself, along with everyone else, leaning forward with attentive energy if not actual body.
Well-known authors mingle with first-book novices and the joy of stories is a bubble enveloping the entire campus this day.
I am grateful for the event and the timing; the joy of immersion in activities so precious--writing and reading--helping to ease the past week's grief.
Yet it is neither escape or distraction from loss but rather filling each moment with presence and content that is an expression of life in another one of its many aspects.

Happily exhausted.

The End.

_______________________

The Fourth Annual Tucson Festival of Books, over 100,000 attending last year, was held on the University of Arizona campus (the photo is of the building called Old Main). All the presentations were free (as was parking which was great). If you are a writer or avid reader, go HERE for my notes on the authors and classes/presentations that I attended; they were amazing.