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Once, about 17 years ago, I was walking with an 8 years old girl on a rural dirt road in India. All of a sudden, she stopped to watch something her face told me was the 8th. World Wonder. I looked around but could not enjoy the Wonder for there was nothing, absolutely nothing awsome for me to see.
– How beautiful, she said.
– What?, I dared to ask.
– That plastic bag!
Then I saw it. A dancing queen, filled with hot dirty air, flying across the road in total freedom. Then time became still, everything around me disappeard and I was that magical ballerina made of plastic bag, unfolding my mistery and beauty for those who really can see.
Even today, when I recall this experience, a sense of deep peace comes to me. But I don´t recall it very often, though. You might know why too: motherhood, writing, work, one car family, schedules. “Once again, my mind became a crowded, chaotic room with too many voices competing for my attention.”, says Eros-Alegra Clarke in her beautiful post.
Thank to her words that expanded unity consiousness came back to me. And left again. But now at least I remember it´s there.
