Wednesday Wish (41)

Somewhere way up north, where the blackberries ooze plump and the summers are almost all sun, is a little cove tucked inside a hidden curve of forest. And overlooking that patch of magic that so few ever see, is a house. It's small. And quaint. And it gives you an unexpected smile when you first see it from afar. Come…you have your suit on…dive in the water with me…let me show you something secret, a magical place for me…

You put your hand in mine when we step onto the rocky shore. You are cold from your swim but my hand, its warm and safe. You can trust me. You made a wise choice. You are already starting to warm up in the summer sun, enveloped by the trees, your hand the warmest, as you walk close to me.

The forest floor is soft, padded with pine needles and moss, ferns and salal. Birds twitter out of sight, a butterfly dances just beyond your reach and a single yellow orchid twists toward the sky. You smile to yourself because you feel hugged. Hugged in a foreign place with your hand in mine, your body dripping ocean on the muffled forest floor.

You breathe the judgment out. Acceptance finds its place. You breathe the worries out. Peace finds its place. You breathe the objectives out. Receptive-open finds its place. You look up and see a ray of sun sneaking through the trees. And when your eyes return to your Self, you notice your step is lighter, your mood has a scent of hope, and you feel more alive-awake than you have….well…in a very long time.

The house is a warm rust red with golden light kissing its seams. There's a vegetable garden with a pin wheel, a red geranium in a pot, and a big glass jar of tea, steeping in the sun on the porch. The screen door slams…

Darlin’? Is that you?

You are silent. Waiting for someone else to answer. But you look around. And there is only you. The old woman smiles, her eyes sparkling like diamonds, her warmth and welcome begging to be shared. With you. With you. With YOU.

Yep, its me! I’m coming! And so you do.

Music’s already on. I’ve been waiting for you, she says, and off she goes…

You step inside. Its nice. Its very nice. Not fancy. Or pretentious. But beautiful, artistic. Warm and gentle. The kind of place you’d expect a golden retriever and squishy couches and a swash of wild flowers perched in a jar. You take a cookie off the plate, little crumbs nestling into the ridges on your shirt.

Have a seat then! The next song is about to start. And I can tell by looking at you, you need it. So listen tight…

And before you can protest because you decided long ago you hated musicals, that darn wonder takes over and you begin to crack a smile. Not a shallow smile that feels like silly humor, a deeper smile, a happy that feels like hope. Hope in the goodness of life. Hope in the goodness of people. Hope that where you are is exactly where you are meant to be. You breathe…trust…believe…in the open heart of a stranger on the edge of the sea, in a hidden cove, with no where else you’d rather be…..

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When I was a little girl, my grandparents spent their summers in the Canadian San Juans, in a little town beyond all others, their house overlooking the sea. And every summer when I got to visit, I swam in the frigid waters, wandered beneath the lush ancient trees, and came home to their little house, to the sound of musicals singing through the eaves. My feet were bare, my body oh, so alive, and my spirit grew filled with hope…

...a hope that a lot of us seem to have forgotten these days. It was a hope that grew things like the American dream and the urge to marry, the hope that believed that dreams come true and that love can last forever, that people are good and that life will always show us something exciting and wonderful, just around the corner. The hope that musicals were made of, a hope, this week, that I wish for you...