As I dreamed of a happy future free of smells and spells they sat on my sacrum, looking out, watching my back. They said these things with thought and understanding but no words. Somehow I understood the language of silence between us and remembered forgetting that I was to protect a secret. A secret so secret that I don’t even know what it is. 

On my sacrum, on the edge of the cliff, the end and the beginning, every man’s happy place-they gathered and protected me and my work. I mean to say that these indios, short and stocky with shiny brown skin and hair, literally sat at my sacrum like soldiers protecting the fort. They let me go far with my dreams and wishes. I pretended it all came true and breathed life into my broken heart with a fantasy. A delusion of the best kind because it feels so equally impossible and possible. They heard my cries about my pain, my doubt about what was happening to me and why? It is all so misunderstood. I am however, remembering that this confusion is part of the gift of understanding. When I was ready to rest they descended, 11 of them, dressed in red cloth with bare feet, into my womb. They stood where I underwent inspection and clearing of my own self loathing and shame. They blew smoke and compassion. As they left one by one bowing with hand to heart to this most sacred cave, I felt saved.

The last of them pulled something out of me right before exiting. He lovingly showed it to me before tucking it into his pouch. He was the smallest and bravest, they all sported a pouch on their side, but he was the only one to open his. As he pulled the fish hook out of me his encouraging gaze asked me to look and see. It was a feathery and colorful one which wordlessly said, you're off the hook now. No trouble coming anymore, you're off the hook, out of danger. I know now I wasn’t really saved. We can only ever save ourselves and we know how but we usually dare not. And by we of course I mean me.  He also showed it to me so I would have no doubt later that what I saw was lived and not imagined. 

Would you believe me if I told you that months later someone would give me a picture of this very hook and I would not know it for days? I was happy to take this piece of art and accidentally hang it in my room upside down… Until one day I became so curious about the picture. I became a snobby art person, wondering what the image could possibly mean…what was the artist trying to express? As I asked myself this question coming up confused because of course this thing reminds me of something. I decided to check and see if there was a hook on the back that could direct the correct positioning of the art. Sure enough the picture was upside down and once I turned it right side up it was clear.

What my spirit team had pulled from my womb was in fact the hook hanging on my wall…

Confirmation.

I was not only off the hook but in possession of what I believed was hurting me. It was time to experience life without any hooks. It was time to heal money and men and my relating to them the way I was/am. My not so imaginary rescue team were all men, happy to help, serve and protect. Miracles. Ok, Sure, figments of imagination, coincidences of life and positive attitudes, but still pretty cool. To see the signs come full circle in so many loving ways confirms for me that every miracle I prayed for came true and its time for a bigger ask. The hook tells us this in the way it wounds.

For example, I heard that if you get a fishhook in you the best way to get it out is to let it go all the way through. Pulling the hook out the same way it went in only causes more damage and a deeper wound. We can’t come out of it the same way we got in. Doing things the same will not have this be different. There is a lesson here, am I learning? Instead of painfully pulling myself out of things and being self punishing, push all the way through and test the boundaries of love and faith. Do the right thing as you obey the call of the heart. Say yes to life as it is and take the blessings in the packages, they come in.  This marked a time in my life when I was crossing over from mother/wife to this. This what you get here is a work in progress feeling into the depths of freedom. It’s reckless abandon and sweet surrender. I am finding love in all the places it’s always been and letting go of anything that reminds me of a time when I didn't like myself. It allows me to matter as a mom and wild woman, of her own design, forging a unique path forward.

The meaning of the hook comes to me before my return to Costa Rica in what was my dad’s home. I often feel like I am disappointing many and sabotaging my own opportunity to be even more free. You have to know that something happens to me when i am here. I don’t want to know about any other life. Living here because my faith guides me to is the most joyous experience worth fighting for. And just like love these days, it’s everything it promised it would be. What wounds live here is healing. The hook has been pushed out, I let all those involved off the hook and dare to start over with renewed vision and trust in this body that communicates so loudly. The pain of my body being more than just me but of soil that’s begging to be tended to. My growth and vision unravels because of this place, not for it but because of it. At some point, I know, I will have to undo the tight tangle I have here but not yet, not now. If I had known that the lessons life had for me would come all at once and in devotion, I would have started sooner. A high school sweetheart melting the ice, hours in a hammock in honor of my dreams, faith in my efforts, daring to be alive and fail. Creating and forgiving all at the same time. If only I had known.

What else is there?