Today, I woke up and knew what I want to be when I grow up. I’ve been waiting for this day for a very long time.
For quite awhile I’ve wanted to be no one. Nothing. Dust in the wind. Yes, I have a purpose here on planet Earth, of course – we all do – but my grandest dream is to be absolutely no one. Untamed, unnamed, unknown, completely free, bound to nothing but the Spirit that moves from within.
As I’ve thought about the physical, practical things I know I am called to in this life – to mother, to create a home, to write and speak and counsel and teach, to dance and to play, the most important thing to me is that I am never defined by any of that. What I want most is to be so fully authentic, so fully free, that the one thing I can be counted on for is to be surprising, to be unpredictable, to be a contradiction.
The image that comes to mine is a dryad, a tree spirit who emerges to play, to teach, to comfort, to bestow dreams and blessings, but without warning to vanish into the mystery of her origin. It’s an appropriate image given my deep love of trees and the wildness, wisdom and feminine spirit I encounter in them.
So much of what I’ve learned about life that is worth remembering, I have learned from trees. A few in particular stand out in my mind. One has a story:
Over the summer as I floated through my neighborhood allowing beauty to jump out and surprise me at it’s own pleasure, I met a lovely tree I called the wild woman.
She looked like she had a head of hair that went in every direction and while wise and down to earth (literally), was a good bit reckless as well. A trait I deeply admire. I shared her photo with a friend who also appreciates these things as a sort of introduction to her. Several months later I came across her again, heavy with bright red, round apples. Looking just as wild but also pregnant with this harvest of nourishment. I shared this with the same friend who said simply, “She has good fruit.” I have been amazed at how simple statements from people of substance can become a structure in my life. It’s happened before.
As I have allowed all the experiences of my life to ripen and ferment under the surface, it has become clear to me that this is my one and only desire. To be a wild woman with good fruit. To emerge from the shadows when I am needed for anything whatsoever, and as soon as my presence is no longer necessary, to move onto the next adventure. To scatter seeds, provide nourishment, love, wisdom, mothering, friendship, support – and at any given moment be able to just be present with a stranger, a butterfly, a flower, or a snowflake -or perhaps just a dirty dish or pair neatly folded pants – as absolutely no one.
Here I come, world – I’m ready to play!
The Eye of the Needle 