Who Are You Anyway – A Parable from the Red Thread Cafe
Dear Wild Soul,
It is a misty morning here in West Marin. The light is smoke green and you can smell Winter whispering in the grey tones, and Fall calling from the gold tones. I am in a two week journey of inquiry right now. Where every moment I ask myself, what I am thinking about and try to give language to it so I can discover some new ways of moving in the world. In my work it is of the utmost interest and importance to me how we access our OWN information. Sometimes when we hit it head on, we miss it. It may be better to enter in through the door in the heart to catch ourselves by surprise. Yes that is possible. My Muse lives from this space of surprise and courtship. While I was writing a post for my Color of Woman almost-graduate-teachers about how to LIVE FROM your own material, instead of writing an article I ended up writing a story. Go figure. I am an artist after all. Here is a page from that story.
Who Are You Anyway?
A Parable from the Red Thread Café
with Shiloh Sophia
One fine day a young woman
set out on a journey.
She traveled many days,
she was looking for who she was.
She was told it was time to wake up
and create her life. That she was too
old to be a dreamer any longer.
So off she went.
She traveled many days
where almost nothing happened.
She she began to look deeper.
She looked under rock
and inside of wave
and up in the trees
and talked to the birds
and smelled the wild roses.
She found parts of herself everywhere.
She kept asking, But…who am I?
Rock said, you are part of me,
you are ancient and forever.
Wave said, you are me,
you are powerful and ever moving.
Tree said, I am all that is, we are life.
Bluebirds of happiness said,
it doesn’t matter who you are,
let’s fly together and find happiness everywhere.
When she met Wild Rose,
something happened inside of her heart,
but she wasn’t sure what.
Wild Rose said, come closer and enter beauty,
I am you. You are me. I have thorns to guard
off those who would try to take my life.
I have seeds a plenty to make many many rose-filled lives.
I have the scent of heaven in my petals. Come and smell me.
I have the nourishment of the sun for healing if you consume me.
I have the color red to remind us we are made for love,
from love itself.
Each place she went she learned something,
about who she was but there was something
missing that she didn’t have words for.
You know how it is, when you
miss someone and you don’t know who.
That is how she felt, but who she missed
was herself. The self she thought she might be
but didn’t really know for sure, either.
She was neither happy nor sad,
she was just searching, and albeit
somewhat weary with the quest.
She wondered what she would
tell the folks back home about
talking to rocks and birds.
They would say,
You were born this way,
but it is time to grow up.
As she traveled along she gathered things
in her medicine basket. Tiny stories and heart
shaped stones and feathers…thinking
that at some point they would all fit together
and make some kind of sense. But, was a quest
supposed to make sense? She wasn’t even sure
Each day as she journeyed she found hope,
and often she found loss as well, but always
inspiration. She braided them together to
keep her faith in continuing on her path.
Some days she felt like quitting, stopping.
Going back to where she came from
and doing what was expected of a young
woman entering the world. But.
She kept going.
She was still a young woman,
but many thought she should marry
or have a good job somewhere.
The way they treated her was
as if time was running out.
She didn’t believe this or understand
it but of course, it caused her
anxiety. Which she was hoping
the quest would get rid of since
it made her clench her jaw together.
She wanted to be free,
wasn’t that an acceptable way
to live in this life? A free woman?
She didn’t know many.
Things didn’t turn out the way she
thought, it is true. She was somewhat’
disillusioned by it… life just wasn’t
what she thought it would be,
when she was a very young girl.
She wondered if other people felt how
she did. Open. Willing. Dismayed.
Hopeful. Anxious. Passionate. Surrendered.
And filled with longing.
To belong? What was that sense she had
anyway of wanting to belong?
One day as she was walking
she happened upon a café
at the edge of the earth where
the road seemed to meet the sky.
She knew it was time for a cup
of tea and some journaling
about everything that was written
in her heart.
The sign said: The Red Thread Café
The Café Between Tomorrow and Today.
She walked in and the little hairs
on her arm stood up to attention.
There was a very old man
and a very old woman standing there
having a conversation behind the counter.
They were so engaged in whatever
it was they were saying they didn’t even
notice her slip to a table in the back of the café.
She noticed then that the OPEN sign
had not been turned yet.
She wasn’t sure what to do
so she became as invisible as
possible with the hopes of hearing
what they were saying
which was more important
than being discovered or
They were drinking from
white cups with red threads
tied to the handles and talking
with their hands passionately.
“I have a question for you”
“I have an answer, in the form of question for you.”
He said: Who are you anyway?”
The young woman wrote
down everything she could
of their conversation.
Everything she needed to know
for this moment
was shared in this conversation.
After some time they looked at her,
and said – Who are you?
She said: I am Wild Rose
p.s. the Cafe between tomorrow and today was something that my former husband and I used to say all the time. Each day we had cafe – as if it was the most important thing in the whole world.