BLOG HAS MOVED!!

Hey folks!! I braved Wordpress and switched my blog to a new address. From now on please look for posts at:

www.gypsygibbsy.wordpress.com

Seeya there!

Hello, again.

Why, hello again, pent up nervous excited energy. It's been awhile. So glad you're making a reappearance after being gone for the past 8 months.

Oh god, really?

Wow.

I don't know about you, but there's nothing more tragic/funny/mind-numbing than finding out people that have only known each other six months are getting married.

I understand that you are 23 and think that what you're feeling is significant and different than anything you've felt before...but getting married is not the way to prove to her friends that you meant it when you said, "I'll never cheat on her again. Like, I mean it this time."

The state of marriage in America is so unhealthy it amazes me that anyone bothers to even try anymore. Were it not for every woman's dream of being a bride, and every guy's relief at the tax cuts it will bring, I don't believe marriage would be high on ANY thinking person's priority list.

Say what you will about "love" being the reason people want to get married - but I for one plan on LOVE being the thing that keeps me with my significant other and not some $45 piece of paper and fear of divorce papers from my lawyer.

So, ya think you want to date online...

I've wanted to write something about this subject for a looooong time. So. Without further ado. (Note, this is going to be a helluva long post.)

I haven't made it a secret that I've used online dating in the past. When I moved to Portland I only knew one person - literally - just ONE - and he, to put it nicely, was an asshat. I was starting a job as a nanny that offered little to no connection with anyone my age and I was living in Family-ville Beaverton...about 15 miles from downtown Portland. I figured joining an online dating site (Match.com to be specific) was just as good a way as any to meet people - and wouldn't it be a pleasant surprise if I met someone worth dating? Well yes. That would have been a pleasant surprise. Over the course of the number of months I was on it, I met several truly fabulous men- none of whom I connected with in the necessary way to begin a relationship, but became friends with all the same.

I will soon be moving to Seattle. Thankfully, this is a city where I know more people than I did when I moved Portland - and one of my bestest friends EVER already lives there.

Grand total of people my age I know in Seattle: 12.
Number of those people I'd even remotely consider hanging out with: 4. Including said best friend.

While certainly an improvement, it is still a relatively small number of people to be acquainted with.

So I find myself joining the online dating realm once again. As per a friend's advice, I'm forgo-ing Match (which is predominantly filled with twenty somethings looking to buy a house, find a wife, adopt a lab named Sam, and drive a nice mid-sized sedan - nothing wrong with this...it is just the farthest thing I could imagine myself signing on for right now - or ever.) Instead, I made a profile for Lovelab, on The Stranger website.

The Stranger is Seattle's version of The Mercury (or vice versa). It is a free weekly alternative arts and culture newspaper. Its version of a dating profile is unlike any I've seen, and in short, is right up my alley - as are a number of the men and women signed up for it. It asks unusual questions, that while odd, if answered honestly give a unique and humorous insight into the kind of person you are dealing with. I can safely say that although many of the guys don't fit my prefered demographic for dating, some certainly do, and many do for friendships. Anyways. I'll stop defending my presence on the site. I'm having fun and making connections. I'm jazzed.

In short - previous and current experiences combined - I believe I have seen and learned enough to offer some constructive advice to any girl considering joining this site (as well as a few words to the men already registered.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

1.) People lie on their profile. Be aware of this. Men and women tend to lie about different things.

*Women: lie about their weight. Sorry honey, if you are 5'2 and 250lbs - you are not "Average."
Be proud of being big and beautiful - do NOT post pictures of yourself 30,50, 70 lbs thinner. Yes, your personality may be phenomenal - but your personality is attached to your body. Do yourself, and the guys a favor by being honest. They aren't being an asshole if they don't want to see you again after meeting - you lied about something pretty damn important from the get-go.

*Men: lie about their height, income, and often, hair: (I'll only address height - because to be honest, I don't care about the other two.) More than anything, dudes lie about height. Unless his height is over 6', I always subtract at least one to two inches from what they claim. I've yet to be wrong on this. Like women know a common standard of beauty=thin, men know a common standard of attractiveness= tall.
Not all women, but many, myself included, will date a man her height if she really likes his personality/face/humor etc...we will date our height. Not shorter.
So men - save us and yourself some time and be honest about your height (and for that matter, your income and bald spot.)

2.) This suggestion piggy backs on numero uno. Unless he is just crazy crafty - and is looking for a girl with a heart of gold that would love him whether he looked like Brad Pitt or Quasimodo - there is a reason he hasn't posted pictures of himself where you can see his face clearly. Same for women.
Online dating is glorified window shopping for a mate. People aren't stupid. If they are aware they are not conventionally good looking, in 4 out of 5 cases they will post pictures in which it's impossible to get a good idea of what they look like.
What is unfortunate, is usually these people are totally kick ass (well...that, or are total freaks) - but it goes back to number one. In my mind, not showing clear and accurate pictures of yourself is as bad as lying about what you do look like. You're banking on hooking someone with your amazing humor and wit - and then praying to god they don't run for the hills when you meet. It's just not fair. Be honest. If you can't find a date with an accurate picture - don't post 10 pictures of fields you've hiked, your motorcycle, or your cat.

3.) Speaking of cats, guys that post as many (or more) pictures of their cat as they do themselves are usually weirdos. Guys that post one or two pictures of their dog, along with pictures of themselves, are usually cool.

4.) Some people (both men and women) are just online looking for sex. Fine- whatever - I don't really care, but it'd be nice if they'd be more upfront about their intentions. Ladies, if you are not looking for quick sex, here are a few ways to recognize guys that are:

a. They are very picky about what they are looking for physically in a woman.
b. They say they're "not sure if they're looking for anything serious right now."
c. They throw out sexual innuendo on their profile, or early and often right after you begin talking with each other.
d. They blatantly say they love sex. (Um, yes, thank you- we all love sex. That's a given. It doesn't need to be said.)
e. They have pictures of themselves flexing without their shirts on (well...these types could also just be immature and lacking class or original thought...)

Obviously there are exceptions to every rule. But all of these combined in one profile is usually fairly telling.

5.) If he/she says they recently got out of a long term relationship - they either have an inability to be alone, or they're looking for a rebound.

6.) For the love of Mike, if they openly say they are shy, selfish, arrogant, short-tempered ("fiery"), love porn, drink a lot, sleep a lot, dislike sports - believe them. Even if any of those things are followed by smiley or winky faces - they are usually being serious. If you are not ok with any of the traits he lists for himself either change your mind, or keep looking. It's not fair to get into a relationship looking to change someone, especially if they were honest about their personality from the beginning.

7.) If a person does not spell/grammar check their profile and emails - it means something. Keep looking.

8.) Once you've started corresponding with someone, if you're interested in each other, set up a date to meet as soon as possible.
Everyone is at their best and brightest over email. Meet quickly. This keeps you from the inevitable emotional attachment and the pie-in-the-sky hopes they are exactly the same in real life. They're never the same. But, when you're lucky, they're better :)

9.) As an unapologetically, completely maternal piece of advice: Let someone know where you're meeting this person and who they are.
I completely defend online dating - but dear god, there's some freaks out there. Don't be a Dateline special.

Alright, that's "all" I can think of for now. As time goes on, there will likely be more to come....Cheers.

Love for Contagious Words

I'm an impressionable person. If I'm around someone who uses a word or phrase prolifically - it will be a matter of days before I too am yelling it out as if it was my first word.

When a phrase I "coined" or began saying out of sheer pleasure for the way it fell from my lips is picked up by another person and used in conversation around me - I'm thrilled.

I have spread the word "jazzed" around like a bad cold. My friends say it, my employers say it, and as of tonight - someone with whom I've never physically spoken used it in an email after only being in correspondence with me for 2 days.

I'm. so. jazzed.

Works in Progress

The darkness is starting to lift. The soles of my feet dragging away from a life I thought I'd never leave ignited a spark that is becoming a flame.
Flickers of hope dance across the deep blue waters that surround me here
and cast dancing shadows on these walls -darkly illuminating a smile that is reaching my eyes after making my lips a false plaything for so long.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I'm genuinely excited to visit Portland this weekend. Not long before I moved out, three truly lovely souls moved into Hoyt House. Although I got to know them on a decent level - sharing bottles of booze, artistic hopes, and the occasional emotional outburst- I believe it's fair to say the girl that is returning Sunday is not the one who left - nor the one they met in June.

To think that I'll be meeting them again without being shrouded in the thick veil of sadness that clung to me for so many months...well, that's something to look forward to.

Not that I have no misgivings about visiting. I'll be entering Hoyt House with caution. The energies that reside in that house - and their ever raging battle for dominance - bring out the best and worst in me. I can only hope that my exit has done the house as much good as it has done me...and that I'm not entering a battlefield.

We shall see.

It needs to be said...

Ok. I'll admit it. One of my more glaring intense faults is the ease with which I let friendships go. I have the worst "Staying In Touch" skills of anyone I've ever met. When you combine my intense dislike for talking on the phone with having the kind of personality that makes friends quickly, I'll move and before I know it three months has gone by and I haven't picked up the phone to call someone who I used to consider a close friend.

This being said - it's only fair to point out the fact that it takes TWO people to make a friendship endure a distance and because I'm willing to own up to my poor communication skills, I frequently get the blame when a friend and I lose touch. I'm effing sick of it. The next time someone gets an attitude with me for "not staying in touch" or "being too busy" when they haven't made the effort to pick up the phone in 6 months either I am going to unleash verbal fire and brimstone upon them. It's the equivalent of copping an attitude with your car for dying when you didn't bother to fill the gas tank in 2 months. UGH. I'm so over being the bad guy in these situations.

That is all...

An open letter to The Giving Tree

I could not get this book out of my head tonight....and felt the need to write about it. Here's the story in case you've forgotten the details:

The Giving Tree
by Shel Silverstein

Once there was a tree..... and she loved a little boy. And every day the boy would come and he would gather her leaves and make them into crowns and play king of the forest. He would climb up her trunk and swing from her branches and eat apples. And they would play hide-and-go-seek. And when he was tired, he would sleep in her shade. And the boy loved the tree.......very much. And the tree was happy.

But time went by. And the boy grew older. And the tree was often alone. Then one day the boy came to the tree and the tree said, "Come, Boy, come and climb up my trunk and swing from my branches and eat apples and play in my shade and be happy."

"I am too big to climb and play," said the boy. "I want to buy things and have fun. I want some money. Can you give me some money?"

"I'm sorry," said the tree, "but I have no money, I have only leaves and apples. Take my apples, Boy, and sell them in the city. Then you will have money and you will be happy."

And so the boy climbed up the tree and gathered her apples and carried them away. And the tree was happy.

But the boy stayed away for a long time... and the tree was sad. And then one day the boy came back and the tree shook with joy and she said, "Come, Boy, climb up my trunk and swing from my branches and be happy."

"I am too busy to climb trees," said the boy. "I want a house to keep me warm. I want a wife and I want children, and so I need a house. Can you give me a house?"

"I have no house," said the tree. "The forest is my house, but you may cut off my branches and build a house. Then you will be happy." And the boy cut off her branches and carried them away to build his house. And the tree was happy.

But the boy stayed away for a long time. And when he came back, the tree was so happy she could hardly speak. "Come, Boy," she whispered, "Come and play."

“I am too old and sad to play," said the boy. "I want a boat that can take me far away from here. Can you give me a boat?"

"Cut down my trunk and make a boat," said the tree. "Then you can sail away...... and be happy." And so the boy cut down her trunk and made a boat and sailed away.

And the tree was happy.... but not really.

And after a long time the boy came back again.

"I am sorry, Boy," said the tree, "but I have nothing left to give you. My apples are gone."
"My teeth are too weak for apples," said the boy.
"My branches are gone," said the tree. "You cannot swing on them.”
"I am too old to swing on branches," said the boy.
"My trunk is gone," said the tree. "You cannot climb."
"I am too tired to climb," said the boy. "I am sorry," sighed the tree. "I wish that I could give you something------ but I have nothing left. I am just an old stump."
"I don't need very much now," said the boy. "just a quiet place to sit and rest. I am very tired."
"Well," said the tree, straightening herself up as much as she could, "Well, an old stump is good for sitting and resting. Come, Boy, sit down. Sit down and rest." And the boy did.

And the tree was happy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I'm not quite sure what brought this story into my mind this evening, but once it was there, I couldn't stop thinking about it.

I have warring memories of this book from childhood. On one side, I have the very charming, eye clouding nostalgic memory of adoring this story for the simple black and white illustrations that so beautifully exemplify the concept of self sacrificing love.

On the other side, I have the vivid memory of an indignant, overly sensitive 8 year old me fighting back tears as I hollered at my mom - "The Boy didn't DESERVE the Tree. How could he be so....so....SELFISH?! How could he cut! her! down!"

To be honest, knowing me, the latter is probably the accurate memory, and all warm fuzzy feelings connected with the story came about from later readings - but for whatever reason, I remembered the story tonight and was really troubled by it...and felt the need to write what my freshman English teacher called, "an emotional response," to sort it out before going to bed.


An Open Letter to the Tree:


Dear Ms. Tree:


Thank you for your cautionary tale. On behalf of all women who have been used by a man until they are little else than a lonely desperate lump, I feel your pain. I know what it's like to experience the honeymoon phase of a relationship - full of games, sharing, and laughter...the days all drifting together into one beautiful stretch of contentment that you naively believe will never end.
But as you know, they always do.
I too know the feelings of longing while you watch the boy, turned man, that used to enjoy only you- find joy in someone new...and the inner shivers of excitement and hope that course through you when they return in a moment of weakness.
Like yourself, I gladly offered my support and love hoping that I would find happiness in his joy - even if it was without me.
But I'm writing this letter to tell you in case no one ever has: The Boy was an ungrateful asshole. You deserve so much better than a man-child who used and ravaged you until there was nothing left of yourself for you to enjoy. You could have grown mighty and tall long ago. Given life to so many more thankful, kind people - had not your emotions and inability to let go of the past blinded you to your potential.
By the time you receive this letter, the Boy will most certainly have died. Good riddance. Please do not mourn the loss of said ingrate another day. Your story has inspired me to put an end to pathetic attempts at self sacrifice in hopes of winning back lost love - and I write this letter to remind you that tomorrow is a new day - and you have the ability to grow again and reach heights previously unattainable while pining after a dumb male. Your kind and giving demeanor will most definitely attract the right sort of man this time around - as long as you remember to respect yourself and not settle for the first thing that wants to climb your trunk and eat your apples.
Thank you again for sharing your story of years lost. Although I hurt for you that you suffered countless lonely nights, I rest in the wisdom of your age that you will do things differently this time around - and keep sharing your story in hopes that future women will avoid wasting their talents and gifts on awful boys.

All the best,
Esther

A Parting Ramble...

I know I will write more about Hoyt House...but these were some rambling lines I jotted down...and left on the fridge before I left today.

And we're all orphans in these rooms.
Wandering hopeful children we came here to mend what is
beyond repair, in search of the illusive muse we've heard
feels like "belonging."

And we've met Heartbreak on these streets and passed
Redemption on these bridges. Smiled with Despair and made
Chance our lover.

Drawn to each other through fate or karma -
our lives writing stories of truths and regret.

Nights composed of sighs and laughter melted down to a
slow steady note
keeping time with the beat from Burnside.
We're creating - building - praying to Art or whoever will listen
we're crossing bridges not easily burned.

And as the door closes behind me - it swings on hinges forged of
memory and Hope.

It's a sad sorry state of affairs, Batman.

You know you are having a rough night when a 20 year old homeless kid who has only eaten three times in the past week and girlfriend is breaking up with him tells you, "It's going to be ok. Things will get better." And when later thanked for the comfort says with a shake of his head, "You just looked so broken."

Circles of Hell

It's gotta be said: Dante was amiss in not including a tenth circle of hell.

Tenth Circle: Full of the wandering discontent Nomads of the earth. Their punishment? Eternally packing never ending ripping boxes of useless shit they "might need one day."

Love for Pinky Toes and Sleeping In

I was very excited last night because I had a random day off today and was going to have the opportunity to sleep in this morning. As is custom at Hoyt House, one of us having the next day off is a good enough reason to convince everyone to drink like they have the next day off - and we commenced early and went late. I wandered up to bed at some ungodly hour - stopping off in the bathroom to brush my teeth.

Not quite sure how, but in the relatively short time I was in the bathroom I managed to slice my left pinky toe to an alarming degree and not notice at all (thank you PBR - the poor man's anesthetic.) I got into bed and started to get comfortable when I noticed a throbbing in my foot. After reaching down to investigate, I turned the bedside light on to find my hand covered in blood.

Not extremely concerned, I limped to the bathroom and stuck my whole leg in the sink since I had managed to smear red goo (yeah - goo - not just blood) all the way up to my knee. After cleaning it off, I realized the source of all the gore was the tip of my toe- which looked like it was seriously considering falling off. If I still had my camera (next blog will be the story of its tragic death) I would take a picture of it to post.

Anyways, had I been sober, I would have realized that something as serious as a trip to the ER for stiches might be in order - but not wanting to deal with getting out of my PJ's, I puckered a baby round bandaid on the end of it after it stopped bleeding and called it a night.

To bring this anecdote full circle - I limped back to bed and instantly fell into a deep dreamless sleep - only to be woken up at 8am by the feeling of something trying to tear the end of my foot off. Nothing of the sort was actually happening - but in my haste to secure the tip of my toe back on, I hadn't done a bang up job applying the bandaid and it came off in my sleep - leaving my poor toe exposed and once again, bleeding.

With my ravaged toe, blinding headache, bruised shin (another mysterious injury), and raging morning heat all competing for dominance, I gave up the fight to fall back asleep after about 15 minutes and started my day.

Truly truly, there is no rest for the wicked.

*Side bar~ In lieu of a 9 hour wait in the ER for a "hurt toe" I am going to let it heal naturally and have a story to tell about my effed up looking little piggie.

Love for Comfort

In case you haven't noticed - the extremely trendy "Maxi Dresses" you see flitting down every street....

...are nightgowns you can wear in public. Not only can a woman wear this and be insanely comfortable and keep cool- but she can wear one and expect to be complimented on her "adorable dress." In past summers, if someone my age was caught going out in one of these they would have been stared and snickered at for wearing a glorified mumu .

Point being, if you are expecting to see me wearing anything else while this ungodly hot weather continues (and possibly even when winter comes) you will be sadly dissapointed.

Just a rant.

If you live in Portland and have kids, know anyone that has kids, work with kids, or possibly kidnapped a child for the day - you were at the Oregon Zoo last Wednesday morning. From now on, whenever I hear the phrase, "It was a zoo in there!" I will instantly associate it with the mayhem that I experienced there this past week.

Now, it's not uncommon for the zoo to be busy on a nice day in Portland. Wednesday was not only a nice day - but it was the FIRST nice day after about a week and a half of rainy days, it was pay day for many, and *Drum roll* the PBS Kids show Between the Lions was performing 3 live shows all before 1 pm.

I arrived to the zoo parking lot a mere three minutes after the zoo was scheduled to open. After racing three minivans, two suvs, and one god awful huge truck thru the lot of compact car spaces, I squeeeezed into one of the only remaining available parking spots at the very back of the lot.

For the first time ever, I decided to forgo the bane of my existence (a.k.a. the double stroller) and storm the zoo armed only with a backpack of snacks, diapers, water, and my own two (already sweaty) hands. This. Was. A. Horrible. Mistake.

We trekked across the lot only to arrive at the entrance to the zoo where every line - all eight of them - was backed up so far people were waiting in the loading zones in the parking lot. Looking around at the other parents' faces I realized I was not alone in my belief that the gates in front of me were actually leading to the mouth of hell - not a fun filled morning with the kids.

Cursing every person who ever felt the need to remind me how lucky I am to have such an easy job, I got in line. Within seconds, there was a troop of six more behind us: 2 six year old boys (twins), 1 young girl (probably 8 or so), a frazzled mom, and a grouchy grandma pushing a screaming shoe throwing 2 year old.

I inched forward, attempting -unsuccessfully - to gain a foot of much needed personal space from the madness behind me. Apparently I need to work on my stink eye, because whatever look I was shooting over my shoulder at the grandma pushing the stroller so far forward she was on the back of my flip flop, was NOT working.

Discontent with merely irritating me through poor stroller driving, bitch grandma made it personal by attempting to push me out of the line and cut in front of me not five minutes later. At this, I grasped Noah and Hayden's slippery hands firmly and said loudly enough for her to hear, " Step forward boys - WE're in this line, too."

Hoping I had made my point (passive) aggressively enough, I bent down to get the boy's sippy cups out of the bag. No sooner had I taken her out of my range of sight, said awful human being pushed forward AGAIN trying to force me out of line.

I shot up and spun around, opening my mouth (fully preparing to say something worth getting fired over) but before I could get anything out, the little 8 year old turned to the bitch with the stroller and said, "Grandma - be careful - we don't want to cut in front of them!"

Polite kids rock my socks. Especially when they have such poor examples of common decency to learn from. It never ceases to amaze me when I meet a rude old person who expects respect merely because they've managed to stay alive so long. The idea that they deserve leniency in their old age, and that their impolite behavior should be excused, is ludicrous. The elderly, of all people, have had more time on this planet to learn the value of kindness and patience.

Thankfully, Grandma was shamed into a grudging courtesy, and I spent the remaining 15 minutes in line only having to worry about the wild animals attached to my own two arms.

I could labor the nightmare the rest of the morning at the zoo was - but I won't. At the end of the day, the stress of the outing was balanced out by the fact the boys were so exhausted they crashed out for three simultaneous hours and I got to mellow out and regain my sanity. Thank goodness for naps.

And...I'm done.

Thank you Douglas Wood!

In my line of work I read many many many children's books. Over the past five years I've worked for several different families, each one differing in the values and beliefs they want their children to be raised with. Guaranteed, if a parent wants a certain belief or moral code built into their child, there will be multiple kid's books laying around that present the message in a way that not only conveys the beliefs in a simple, easily understandable way, but also with a air of truth, guiding the child to believe the principles/stories are Truth (capital T) from the beginning.

Because of my very intense aversion to organized religion, I've struggled with reading some of the stories I've found on these children's shelves. I take my job very seriously - I work with children during very formative years of their lives, and its hard for me in good conscience to read them books that present make believe as fact, and fiction as history - a history worth building their life on.

When one of the kids toddled up to me with this book in their hand, and I flipped through it only to see GOD sprawled across every other page, I was inwardly irritated. Having had a rough morning battling multiple tantrums and hot sticky weather, I was looking forward to naptime. But, knowing that refusing the book might induce another fit of tears, I sighed and snuggled the munchkin on my lap, opened the book, and prepared to present another set of ideas that I staunchly believed he'd be better without.

By the end of the book I was so relieved I could have cried. It's an amazing book - a beautifully illustrated story presenting the even more beautiful truth of God's presence not being confined to one entity or philosophy - but part of everything on earth.

I was so jazzed about the book in fact, that I copied it out and posted it below for you all to take a look at if you are so inclined :) I can't recommend this book, or this author, more highly!

Old Turtle by Douglas Wood

Once, long long ago…yet somehow, not so very long…

When all the animals and rocks and winds and waters and trees
And birds and fish and all the beings of the world could speak…and understand one another…

There began…AN ARGUMENT.

It began softly at first…

Quiet as the first breeze that whispered, “He is a wind who is never still.”
Quiet as the stone that answered, “He is a great rock that never moves.”
Gentle as the mountain that rumbled, “God is a snowy peak, high above the clouds.”
And the fish in the ocean that answered, " God is a swimmer, in the dark, blue depths of the sea.”

“No,” said the star, “God is a twinkling and a shining, far, far away.”
“No,” replied the ant, “God is a sound and a smell and a feeling, who is very, very close.”

“God,” said the antelope, " is a runner, swift and free, who loves to leap and race with the wind.”
“She is a great tree,” murmured the willow, “a part of the world, always growing and always giving.”

“You are wrong,” argued the island, “God is separate and apart.”
“God is like the shining sun, far above all things,” said the blue sky.
“No, He is a river, who flows through the very heart of things,” thundered the waterfall.

“She is a hunter,” roared the lion.
“God is gentle,” chirped the robin.
“He is powerful,” growled the bear.

And the argument grew LOUDER and LOUDER and LOUDER…

Until…

STOP!

A new voice spoke.

It rumbled loudly, like thunder. And it whispered softly, like butterfly sneezes. The voice seemed to come from… Why it seemed to come from…Old Turtle!

Now, Old Turtle hardly ever said anything, and certainly never argued about things like God.
But now Old Turtle began to speak. “ God is indeed deep,” she said to the fish in the sea; “and much higher than high,” She told the mountains.

“He is swift and free as the wind, and still and solid as a great rock,” She said to the breezes and stones. She is the life of the world,” Turtle said to the willow. “Always close by, yet beyond the farthest twinkling light,” She told the ant and the star.

“God is gentle and powerful. Above all things and within all things. “God is all the we dream of,
And all that we seek,” said Old Turtle, “all that we come from and all that we can find.

“God IS.”

Old Turtle had never said so much before. All the beings of the world were surprised, and became very quiet. But Old Turtle had one more thing to say.

“There will soon be a new family of beings in the world,” she said, “and they will be strange and wonderful. They will be reminders of all that God is. They will come in many colors and shapes
with different faces and different ways of speaking. Their thoughts will soar to the stars,
but their feet will walk the earth. They will possess many powers. They will be strong, yet tender, a message of love from God to the earth, and a prayer from the earth back to God.”

And the people came.

But the people forgot. They forgot that they were a message of love, and a prayer from the earth. And they began to argue… About who knew God - and who did not; and where God was, and was not; and whether God was, or was not. And often the people misused their powers, and hurt one another. Or killed one another. And they hurt the earth.

Until finally even the forests began to die… and the rivers and the oceans and the planets and the animals and the earth itself...Because the people could not remember who they were, or where God was.

Until one day there came a voice, like the growling of thunder; But as soft as a butterfly sneezes,

Please, STOP.

The voice seemed to come from the mountain who rumbled, “Sometimes I see God swimming, in the dark blue depths of the sea.”
And from the ocean who sighed, “He is often among the snow-capped peaks, reflecting the sun.”
From the stone who said, “I sometimes feel her breath, as she blows by.”
And from the breeze who whispered, “I feel his still presence as I dance among the rocks.”
And the star said, “God is very close.”
And the island said, “His love touches everything.”

And after a long, lonesome, and scary time…

..the people listened, and began to hear…

And to see God in one another… and in the beauty of all the Earth.

And Old Turtle smiled.

And so did God.