Friday, May 28, 2010

Fish Fence

When I first moved to town, I noticed a lovely woman wandering down our street. "Who's that?" I asked my partner. There was something magical about this woman with her long brown hair, patterned skirt and purposeless meandering.
"Who? Oh, she's kinda weird," he replied.
"How so?"
"I dunno. She's just out there."
"Do you know her?"
"Not really."
"I think she's a witch." I pronounced, and strolled out to the road to talk with her.

Today marked 3 years since that day. I met my magical friend for tea. She was telling me how she's learning to ground herself "in this world of illusion". How she has learned to be really present, so much so that for some she is now invisible. Whereas before she might have stood out as odd, now she's happily unseen.

She recounted how last week she was working to build a fish fence with parents and kids from school as part of a river clean up. She found some parents had a lot of ego for driving process and that to them she was invisible. She sat back, twisted wire, and quietly observed.
She shifted the energy around her though. She's certain of that.

Her story made me think of Jesus and the loaves and fishes, the miracle of a few  fish magically feeding the mass assembled. Here my friend was making invisible miracles to feed others while they were feeding fish to the fish fence unaware of life force teeming around and through them. 

I like when the universe has a sense of humour like that. I know I'm being oblique, but Canmore's a small town.