Unraveling Magic

How can we possibly unravel the package enough to allow the magic to weave each one of us together?

It doesn’t feel like it’s been two months since I have had to tell everyone to move their cars to the bottom of the hill but it does make me think of a common thread. Once more I’m trying to figure out direction. Where is this conference leading us? Where are we going as a community? Who will be our leaders and what do we have to learn from them? What do they need to learn from us? How can we possibly unravel the package enough to allow the magic to weave each one of us together?

Part of the conference is based on our diversity and what we create from that challenge. We come from so many different backgrounds, different rhythms, and different age groups. As community, we are exceedingly, exceptionally, outrageously blessed by these differences. Grandfather Robert decided that we needed to be together. He figured out a long time ago that we would come every year to learn together, to lean on one another, and challenge our world. Now all I have to do is let you expand, learn, hug, eat, and snore in bunks next to each other and we’ll have the 39th Annual Great Mother Conference. Right?

Robert’s lovingly grumbled words will be there in every passing cloud that darkens our eyes and blinds us with sunlight.

What I can say is this: the cars belong at the bottom of the hill and I can help you move them because that is one hell of a hill. I can also say that we will have certain teachers returning because they are part of the continuation of what Robert started. These core people provide the structure that the new teachers will rely on and trust. What I can’t exactly say just yet is who these new teachers will be because at this point only the goddess knows.

The goddess will be in the prayers of the yellowing cottonwoods trees in Vermont as the planning meeting gathers in September. Robert’s lovingly grumbled words will be there in every passing cloud that darkens our eyes and blinds us with sunlight. Every bird that calls out into the grassland and forest will remind us of the community that stands behind us, waiting for the right moment when we will swirl again like Starlings in the sky.

-Marie Ursuy

Photo: Marcus Wise