Beverly's Blessing

Meegwetch, maarsii, thank you for being a part of my circle for the month of October and for welcoming me into the Open Book circle.  After my initial nervousness at clicking the ‘Send for publishing’ button, it’s been a wonderful and inspiring time.  

There was more that I wanted to get to, like . . . 

Growing up as a queer little kid in a small Ottawa Valley town.  When Hockey Night in Canada was on Wednesdays and Saturdays, and bath times were on Sunday evenings before Walt Disney.  I remember trying to find words to describe how I felt, in amongst the romance novels my mom read, and there weren’t any.  There wasn’t anyone who looked like me that I could ask, but then again how would I have even recognized them?  How about lesbian palm tickles?  I write about this high school rumour in Horses in the Sand.

Introducing my sisters, Fat Chick and Skinny bitch.  I first talk about the twins in First Gear – A Motorcycle Memoir.  I was riding down the main drag of Dryden, the aroma of fresh baked bread wafting.  My mouth watering.  Chick was trying to get me to pull over until Skinny got in the way.  It wasn’t pretty, but to be clear no one was harmed during the rolling disagreement.

Understanding the world doesn’t revolve around me.  When I am fatigued, I can get jiggy.  An unanswered text or email can send me into doom and gloom thinking, especially at the end of a day.  I obsessively look for something I may have done, some aggression or harm I may have caused.  When I relax, get some sleep, it’s clear to me people have lives beyond getting back to me.  Like really?  I need to get over myself and out of my way. lol

Leaving you with the story of Beverly’s Blessing as a closing prayer.  An Ojibway Grandmother and Elder, Beverly came to me at a gathering.  She was carrying a stick and had a request.  She offered me tobacco and I accepted.  Beverly explained she’d seen a light within me, a talent that I didn’t know I carried.  The transformation of wood and stone into sacred objects.  I was taken aback, and it took a couple of months to fully process and accept her gift.  I am full of gratitude for her offering, and I’ll spend what’s left of my life learning, enriched by it.  

I use the story of Beverly’s Blessing as a teaching, a reminder that we all carry gifts, talents and skills, smouldering embers that just need a soft whisper of breath to ignite.  A nod for us to honour ourselves, our communities by looking for the blessings and gifts carried by our neighbours.  

Chi meegwetch, maarsii, merci and thank you,

I’d like to acknowledge with much gratitude the well, wise and loving ancestors, spirit guides and helpers that came from all four directions to be with us this month.  Until we meet again.  All my relations.

With love, 

Lorrie xo

And about those sunsets I mentioned in my first post.  I did a word find just yesterday named SUNRISE, SUNSET.  Some of the hidden words were pastel, scarlet, purple.  But sunrises and sunsets are so much more than words, even a well written collection of them.  They are life, a cycle welded together to be experienced, felt.  An unbreakable spectrum that is all - the present, past, and future.  A circle of darkness, lightness, inspiration, and motivation . . . to go on would be endlessly silly.  Maybe I have already?  Here’s some pics to enjoy instead.

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