Faces at the table

Our long-time friend came for dinner and a visit this week. We have known each other since the early 1990's when we were both very involved with workshop creating and facilitating; training the world for a living. Between us there have probably been many thousands of people who have sat around tables or clustered in groups to explore, delve or been subject to our brand of teachings. Many events have changed those roles for us as we are now crones in our sixties and seventies.

Pete, my husband and I are studying the teachings of The Second-half of Life as described by Angeles Arrien. Through this exploration I am meeting 'the face I had before my parents were born' Angeles Arrien reminds me about. It's the face, the role, the me, that is the essence of myself without Ego's Face and the one where all faces/roles are integrated. As I have written before, as grief works through me, life and death has taken on a deeper meaning in this summer. I have Big Teachers guiding in this summer of grief: Angeles Arrien, my Brother David, my Cousin Cindy (all three passed this spring-summer); Ross Moss leads me more confidently through the dream time; this place in the woods comes to be with me for a fifth season. I read the words from Arrien's books, reflect on her questions and let the work work me. I practice with the ancient and original tools of magic: rattles, sticks, and meditations and find the faces of the child (who wishes to play more regularly ... Pete wants to be there, too!); the adult who explores creative ventures is good at that (she just needs to have the child along so both are acknowledged without exclusion); the elder is comfortable with silence and the wisdom that comes from the wind, changes in tree color, the voices of feathered cousins. (She is also glad to be makua and not trainer); the essence face is getting more and more visible and I think I saw her at the table the other day when my friend came for dinner and a visit. There was an elf wearing a blue knit hat next to her. They made quite a picture. My friend talked of many things when she came to visit; she left many gifts in the telling of story. I had not been face to face with her for two years, I looked at her closely that evening, soft to the exploration of her nose that slopes and is peculiarly positioned; I inspected the texture of her face, and her eyes which are absent of creases; her large and generous ears wore a chandelier of silver and violet stones; her hair was, as usual, tweaked a fresh color very becoming the positive self regard she is practicing these days.

It was the night of Lammas Festival when we sat, talked, ate fruit, flesh and grains of a good first harvest. And, the faces that were at the table? I believe those were our 'first faces' comfortable in the skin of the present. Great gifts for a midsummer's evening.