mysterious gifts

I have a spiritual mentor that I do not know. Every year, just before Xmas, she sends a package of things. A book. Copies of articles. Newspaper cutouts. Little beautiful things cut from tea boxes, or magazines. Programs from plays. Brochures of architectural simplicities. Poems. I ponder each of these things and they feed my soul. They are just what I need.

It must have started the year I had brain surgery and everyone thought I was going to die. I did too. Word got around and this person sent me my first package. I imagine she must have a big box where she collects these treasures that can’t be thrown away, and then when the time is right, she gathers up just the right combination and sends them to the person that they will speak to.

warhorseThis year there is an article about Wendell Berry’s poem, “The Peace of Wild Things”. A program from a 2013 play in Louisville about Martin Luther King’s last speech. In that program there is an advertisement about another coming play, “War Horse”, that tells the story of the First World War through the eyes of a war horse, Joey. There is an interview with the 3 puppeteers who work the horse during the performance. I become fascinated with the art of theatre and story telling, and the incredible gift of animals. How did I miss all of this?

The last thing I looked at last night was “Untethered Soul”, a book by Mickey Singer with a wild horse on the cover. I read 2 chapters, then slept well with the insight and assurance that I, too, can find this freedom, and surrounding enchantment.

Thank you, mentor.



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