Tapdancing
To: ms_allthat@hotmail.com, loveisarose11@hotmail.com, dee_offner@hotmail.com, mystree_1@hotmail.com, lorelis@hotmail.com, decafi@hotmail.com, someone_new1@hotmail.com, RTMW62@cs.com, jae7244@hotmail.com, patty757@aol.com, _denae65@excite.com, charma@leaco.net, ip253406@ip.pt, ladyelan@angelfire.com, themissright@yahoo.com, oklahomalady@excite.com, wahine10@hotmail.com, chantellspring@hotmail.com, jcbinks@msn.com, sierra34@angelfire.com, lighthouse75@hotmail.com, ksotulsa@yahoo.com, darcysmail@yahoo.com, tlfie@groupz.net, poetinmotion@hotmail.com, chart13@excite.com, clavonec@excite.com
Subject: Tapdancing
Date: Tue, 28 Sep 1999 15:34:10 CDT
There has been some movement in the dance of my life of late. Yesterday, moved the tent and all my belongings into Nancy's garage, where neither the wind nor the rain penetrate.
There's an easy chair there, also, so I can sit with a light on and read. I finally finished "Winesburg, Ohio" by Sherwood Anderson. There are stories in there which touch me so deeply. Surely Eleanor Rigby knew the town well.
There was rain all last night, pelting the roof, and I was grateful to be out of it. The seams on the little Dharma Tent need to be treated and they leak to let me know that. I would have spent a wet night last night were it not for the move.
And Nancy showed up as I was in the midst of moving. A quick close embrace. Ohhhhhhh, she said, I am sooooooooooooooo glad you're back!!
She has work for me, and her husband Steve, weather permitting, wants to begin the front deck to their new house this weekend. If the weather cooperates, I will probably ride the 17 miles out to their 43 acres and spend the night in their stainless steel Pullman Dining Car.
No joke. It is such a strange thing, to come out of the bush and suddenly come upon this full-length railroad car sitting there. It's a lovely place. A dear artist sister of mine went in and turned it into something marvelous to behold. Chairs hanging from the ceiling and all about wondrous things she has created from that overflowing cup of her talent.
Weather permitting, I will spend Friday and Saturday nights there, then return to Lawrence and come over here to the Computer Center and bring you all up to speed
.
This morning, sitting about the round table there in the anteroom of the club, Ruth talking about coming out of a drunk once out on 23rd Street and not being able to figure out where she was. Sober 13 plus years now, she tells that story haltingly, with still a touch of wonder. Lost in Lawrence. I will sign my name to such a confession.
So I tell anyone who will listen, Lawrence is a magic place. I must stop by the Prayer Stone soon, as that is *my* stone, and I need to nuture that relationship.
I talk to things. I talk to stones, to trees, old buildings, clouds. I tell them just how perfect and wonderful they are, how they have brought their gifts of beauty to one who both sees and loves their loveliness. They speak back at times, although in words other than any language yet written.
Sister Mary there at LINK today. She wants me to give her a bid on painting her house, a smallish two-story affair. Well, yes, I can do that. I can see myself up a ladder, scraping the dead paint away, prepping it. Hard work, yes, but honorable. To take something with makeup faded and apply new. I would like that.
So between Nancy's basement, Steve's deck, and Mary's house, it appears I shall be kept busy enough.
I have received such incredible letters from so many of you. Magic documents of the heart, your ephiphanies shared with me, your hopes and sometimes your despairs. I feel I have permission to do the same.
Didn't make the 7 o'clock meeting last night as the rain was just coming down "pretty good hickory," as Grandpa used to say. I was thirsty and held a plate out beneath the runoff from the garage roof and drank. Rain water. Delicious.
I asked someone if CC made the meeting, and she did. I was glad to hear that, my friend of the shakes and tremors. It *will* get better if she continues to come, if she continues to resist that first drink. Just as I begin to feel I once more approach the boundaries of the land of the living. Hel-looooo...what's this? Sanity? How droll.
Soon I want to begin sharing some stories with you, true stories from some back chapters of my life, stories which might shed a bit of light on what forces propell me thru this life.
I remembered, sitting at lunch, that I'd "loaned" Mary a buck here and there numerous times, so I felt no hesitation in asking her for one. She gave me ten, so the ravens continue to feed this old Elijah. Miracle continues to happen.
Soon I will cut this list down a bit, as there are people here which probably don't really want to be. For them, just more Spam. And that is beautiful, also. Maika'i?
I have all that I need just now, and there is a sense of holiness about me. Not that *I* feel particularly holy, but more along the lines of my feeling *surrounded* by holiness, by something numinous. Last night I was fretting about the aging process, fretting that I didn't have enough time to finish my Purpose, Mission. And today I know that everything is already here, coming on an "as-needed" basis.
When I look back on that recent time we got to share together, the Streets of Tulsa (and, for some of you, things before that, also), I am so grateful I did not have to do that alone, that you were with me. That makes you very, very special in my book of life.
Does anyone know the city LLT lives in? I'm concerned about her. I do have her last name (I think), so I want to contact her and find out if all is well. Let me know.
Luvya's.
Dickens
