Posted on by Jessica Dofflemyer · 1 Comment

Divining Water

I have not lost my voice.  Clearly my typing fingers still work too, as I continue to tap away about intimate details in this public forum.  I experience with certain posts (such as At the Altar) something I can only liken to buyer’s remorse. Dare to publish a soul-exposing piece, then question my better judgement and resist all urges to log in and hit delete before anyone reads it.

I take my discomfort as a good sign.  If I were witching for water my dousing tool would be moving.  I sense there is a wellspring below the surface and through the words and honest sharing a rich resource may be divined.

Years ago my father shared a book with me called The Moon Under Her Feet by Clysta Kinstler.  Through Kinstler’s bibliography of history, myth and literature, she crafts a narrative of Christ through the voice of Mary Magadalene.  The read was rich with fresh perspectives for me at the time and one idea persists to this day.

In the bible’s version of the crucifixion story, Judas accepts money from the authorities in exchange for revealing Christ’s whereabouts, then seals the deal with a kiss in the ultimate betrayal.

In Kinstler’s story, Judas was Christ’s twin brother, appointed the task of helping him fulfill his destiny on the cross.  It was from Judas’ deep love for his brother that he agreed to be the one to appear as though he had betrayed him with that kiss.  When in truth, he was simply playing his role in moving Christ toward his transformation.

What if I could think about a hurt that had come from the actions of someone close to me and imagine that our two souls had made some silent pact?  Between us some long-forgotten, cosmic agreement had been made to help each other as humans learn love’s greatest lessons. What if we agreed that one of us were going to do something that seemed the very opposite of loving?  It was going to look bad, it would certainly feel painful.  But the greater truth was that this betrayal was necessary in order to grow. The hurt inflicted would ignite the fire that would raise the phoenix from the ash.

One step beyond forgiveness, this perspective (real or imagined) can actually create a gratitude towards the one that ‘did me wrong.’  There never was transgression.  Every one played their part in the story to perfection.  How radical is that?

Just like that dousing tool pointing me towards water where it looks like only land, I trust that beneath the surface of my Judas there is a spring just waiting to be tapped.

Posted on by Jessica Dofflemyer

At the Altar

I wake at 5:17am sensing instantly that today I will lose my voice.  My head cold makes its way into my throat and chest.  It is here where the words live, the feelings reside.  I can feel the undoing.  I am being rendered silent.

There is both fear and relief in the dark morning.  All is quiet but for the crickets.  Jeb sleeps.  I grab a lozenge and catch a glimpse of a huge planet in the sky.  I’ve never seen one so close, so big.  I do believe it’s Venus.

Osho Zen Tarot

I linger in the solace of this silence.  A soft cushion of spaciousness that sifts the air and opens my mind.

Should I stay silent about what tosses with me on this morning’s pillow.  Will giving voice to it (or keyboard letters) somehow set the story free?

Or are some things better left unsaid?

If the Archives are about chronicling the story, then where else but here to express the quiet thread that sits below the surface of these last days?  Last week in Lulu’s letter there was reference to a follow up to the love story with the rocket engineer (The Private Door Swings Open).  For now I could skip Part 2, and even 3, because presently this script is in the Final Scene.

Osho Zen Tarot

For those just catching up, the plot summary would go something like:

Woman sings eighties love song in steaming moonlight (reference Love and Woo Woo with INXS) and instantly meets dashing gentleman (the rocket scientist) who asks her to travel the world with him.  Long-distance love affair ensues spanning California, India and Hawaii.  Enter woman’s six year old son for intense dramatic tension.  Exit dashing man who continues loving from a distance, climbing mountains round the world while woman stays at sea level.  Google chat provides comfort and frustration.  Woman ends remote relationship with love and good wishes, completing the decision with a ceremonial fire on Independence day. Read more

Posted on by Jessica Dofflemyer

All Good Things…

I try to squeeze a moment of writing in this morning before the pancakes, vitamin C and bed making.  Jeb’s home from school all this week.

We pulled the suitcases out of storage yesterday and cut the airline luggage tags off the bags from last year’s delayed flight.

Friends tease me that I pack two weeks ahead of time.  I don’t want to forget anything.  I hate to wait to the last minute.

I scan random lists I have scrawled, all the things that need to be done before we leave.  Items to take, people to call, mail to hold, bills to pay.

I’m not complaining.  This trip is the beacon of light at the end of my tunnel.  Each year I get to exit my remote little paradise and change the scenery.  Take a pause and turn Jeb over to a new tribe – my blood family.  I sit back and breathe.  Smile and watch him from a distance with new eyes.  Fall in love with him all over again.

And quietly I’ll slip away, alone, to the coastal forest and sink into the wealth of my own deep well.  I will languish in the space of simply being.  Make no promises except to breathe.  I’ll sit in steaming water and let hours pass.  Move in slow motion.  Feel my footsteps in new ways.  Remember myself again.

With this light beaming in the near but distant future, I remind myself to stay present.  Breathe deeply now.  It’s morning and Jeb and I can start the day with a walk in the thick dew.

There is no rush.