Deep Water

June leaned over to throw another pecan log on the fire. She had just listened to a five-minute voicemail from her friend (who just called her last week to tell her she never wanted to speak again) who listed in detail all of the reasons why she believed June was a horrible person. I blinked hard and noticed all of the embers looked like tiny Buddha faces. I haven't known what to say to any of this. It is painful when friendships that have been deeply rooted, begin to unroot.

I always wonder though, what June's friend witnessed growing up as a little girl. What did she witness between women? Did her mother have many close friends? Was there an intimate circle? Was she blessed with mentors? Had someone listened to her? Did she know she was valuable?

She was failed first by her mother, while being abused by her stepfather instead of being protected. It reminds me of Toni Morrison's essay Cinderella's Stepsisters and these lines from it, "What is unsettling about that fairy tale is that it is essentially a story of a household—a world, if you please-of women gathered together and held together in order to abuse another woman."

Who teaches us to communicate with each other? I mean, from whom/what do we as women learn to communicate with each other? Are the lessons we really need to understand going to be taught from our families or communities or are our families and communities gatherings of women held together to abuse one another? How is our worth/value taught to us? Is it only in relation to an other? Are we taught, as women, that we are enough simply as we are?

I have this vision for the future of having a compound. I have a million details in my mind that collide with each other and keep me up until three in the morning with notebook pages divided into sections of the compound, sustainability, and functioning. The vision includes intense mentorship. I started by writing a sign-up sheet for the positions that would be required for this wonderful place run by a collective of women. I thought of every amazing woman in my life. Whitney just graduated with a background in choreography and she'll be done with her dance therapy master's by the time this all manifests. She will be perfect to teach free-flow dance classes and healing through movement. Amanda loves literature and is passionate about teaching women to find their voices again. We have facilitated together before, I will have to snag her for writing workshops. She has worked for a long time empowering young girls through programs at Girl Scouts, and she always challenges me to think harder...or softer.

When I began to think of the women in my life, I created different fragments of the compound. I know it is fantastical to create this place and call all of my friends and tell them to leave what they are doing to live on the compound and do what they love day-in and day-out (I may be surprised, though, in fact, I know I would be), but keeping their passion and talents in mind and witnessing all they individually offer the communities they live in seemed to help. I have visions of gathering around the fire, of festivals to groups of creative people, of extending farming knowledge to the local community, of creating scholarships to women can come to live and learn skills that will teach them to lead their own communities as well....and the visions are beautiful! But structure can be very beautiful too!

Structure, for example, would help me get to a point around now instead of repeating manifesto notes into a journal entry. The point is that...let's say a woman wanted to come to the compound to learn how to create a program in her own community that she could use to teach women there how to heal through movement, through dance, through yoga, through feeding themselves right - then she would come to the compound and whoever was responsible for that fragment would be a woman experienced and passionate about that task. It would be a dancer who danced to live. I write to live. I know women who garden and farm to live. I know a woman who can spend all day in the greenhouse, feeding chickens, and sorting seeds - wake up the next day and do it all again, always carrying extra scissors and gloves. This weekend she taught me how long to wait before bean seeds sprout, where to keep them to make them sprout faster, and the most inexpensive and natural way to nourish the soil for the season. "The soil is like your body," she said, "And you feed yourself certain things to stay alive, don't you? You will do the same thing with your garden beds." She teaches me to be lavish when planting morning glories and purple corn, and to place bell peppers next to oregano for added humidity. It amazes me, every day! Did you know boiling a pot of water and adding apple cider or white vinegar and then adding it to your garden gets rid of flies who want to dwell in your soil? I needed to know that...

And that...is what I mean...by mentor. Next week I am teaching a program at a LGBTQ drop-in center and I found myself feeling nervous! I have had close friends tell me before that I am their mentor, and have even responded by saying, "Be careful with that! You think I am wonderful, but I'm really just human too! One day you will see a side of me you don't expect and then all of your ideas about how wonderful you think I am will crush you. Always make sure you are listening to you and not me."

But, I think that instead of feeling nervous I should really use that advice in a different way. I am human and have many different aspects of myself. I'm bringing them a film and introducing them to topics such as religion and oppression in the LGBTQ community. Understanding the scriptures commonly used to conjur concepts of deviation and being immoral, can actually lead to not feeling as offended by them. I always knew when people were shouting "God hates fags!" that they didn't really understand what they were saying. But I was also torn away from my second girlfriend because her mother was very homophobic and that experience left me feeling so alienated. I never questioned myself or my sexuality, but I really began to understand that there are people in the world who will hate me, blindly, because of one little part of me, a part that I can't change.

I think being a mentor includes sharing yourself. When I was facilitating workshops for women...I asked myself a few times how much of me they needed to know. And I found, in every session, that when they could connect to me, they opened up more themselves. I wanted them to know I was a woman who had been taught silence and found my voice again and that speaking for myself was liberating. I think once they understood that they trusted me.

I have even witnessed, by sharing ideas about the compound that many women already have this vision! They want to live more naturally. They want to leave legacy to their daughters. They want to share themselves, their wisdom, and impact their communities and the world with stronger frequency. They want to invest in the education of girls by teaching them what they know - whether it is a community in another country, or the girls in their families.

By the time the log burned down, June sat back in her rocker and sang "Deep Water" by Jewel. We talked about how important it was to know ourselves and be at peace with who we are. I accept that I am the only one with me my entire life, so I have to be my own best lover and friend. I can't seek outside that which is already within. I hugged her long before I hopped on my bike to come home. I gave her one of those squeezes that would pop something back into place in her back or release tension somewhere, wished her sweet dreams, and reminded her she was loved. We agreed to coffee and bird song in the morning.