This is Bo Lebo writing on Leslie's site about the garden that I am looking out from. Today my friend, Dana lost her niece in a sudden, violent and unexpected manner. I am writing about my emotions in Leslie's cyber-journal to perhaps connect to my niece, Lindsay Beyerstein, who is writing a popular blog in New York City.
At the same time, our enchanted gardener has just brought me into present time smelling fresh lemon grass, that felt warm to touch and calmed me.
I can hear jazz rocking at twilight and we are surrounded by friends, getting last minute funereal plane tickets, and feeling a chill on the air.
Next week is the ALA, and in four weeks a fourth of July fundraiser where Menc will come and capture a Music Tutor singalong with William Elliott.
All because many Americans can no longer remember or have ever learned the words.
Words lead us back to values and sometimes like now back to our selves.
Everything I am doing with reading centers around feeling safe enough to hear the phonemic elements from which we build words, works, feelings, and our p.o.v.
Sounds, flute, murmers of talking, chewing and conversation weave a tapestry of present time.
Just the kind of ambiance from which Leslie weaves his enchanted garden. Honoring the woman and the man. Honoring the moment where we reach out towards light and each other. Like seeds that reach towards nurturance and towards self-expression.
Blogging is like journaling and dreaming out loud....only public instead of in a closet.
My day had lots of breakdowns and a great necessity for patience.
What a treat to hear conversation that flows over the soul back to source to forget the rough moments of the day for others .....for myself.
A chance to write and to share. A new experience.
Bo
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YourEnchantedGardener
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