Hot and sexy, Grandmother?
After a 6-week jaunt of long, hard and probably overly picky revisions, I finally pressed SEND. The manuscript for my new book on Quodoushka* is in the publishers hands! If the last few days of this rather grueling process are any indication of its power, we are in for a magical ride.
For anyone who has been to a Quodoushka, (or has spent 4 days in a spectacular sexuality workshop filled with loving kindness and profoundly healing fun) you know what it feels like to go shopping a few days later. People come up to ask you where you’ve been because there’s this lingering radiance shimmering around you.
For me, this ‘Q’ workshop was a bit different. As one participant so nicely put it, “something broke lose during the weekend- a big physical release/purification happened’. In other words, lots of us got the flu.
After finishing my edits (in bed for 3 days) I finally ventured out to Whole Foods to get some makings for soup. I had just completed the books’ forward and while driving to the store I was reflecting about how remarkably perfect the very last pieces fell into place. It seemed rather exquisite that the first words of the book will be from our Grandmother, Dianne Nightbird, followed by Grandfather Thunder Strikes, who is the Grandfather and pioneer of the Quodoushka spiritual sexuality teachings. In this tradition,it is said that “All things are born of the feminine and seeded by masculine energies of creation.”
When I went to check out at the cash register I realized I left my wallet in the car. (not an unusual occurrence . I told the elderly lady behind me she might want to go to another register.
So I sauntered leisurely to my car, still a bit delirious and wobbly on my feet and I took my time returning. When I got back, this lovely lady was still at the same register standing behind her shopping cart.
I said, ‘Mam, you’ve got to be the most patient woman I have ever met.’
Her face opened with a wide grin. “Oh’ she said, ‘that’s because I got to spend time with my grandson.’
I looked over to the young boy bagging my groceries, “Are you really her grandson?” He smiled and nodded, “yeah.”
“Oh,” I said, is there anything else I can go and get from my car?”
“Anything you like” she said laughing.
We smiled for a quiet moment together at Whole Foods.
How beautifully grandmothers remind us to slow down, be happy with waiting and to cherish our families.
May you walk in beauty, Amara