In the Atmosphere

Sitting in our favorite Italian sandwich shop, my roommate and I were only 100 yards from our dorm. The juke box was playing, Steppenwolf." I was off in a dream, an idea . . .

"What if, we could," I said to Susie. "What when we are teachers we could make it so that kids aren't afraid to learn? What then? Wouldn't it be fun? I mean, I learn so much more, so much more deeply when I'm confident and happy."

We talked all through our hot ham and cheese sandwiches on Italian bread . . . right into Neil Diamonds, "Forever in Blue Jeans." It was college. We were dreaming of the future.

It's hard not to be swept away with possibilities when my life is all about learning. Ideas that bring people up are euphoric. They should be.

I still remember the conversation and the exact smile I was smiling.

My dear roommate so knew me. She listened in earnest. Ah Susie. She and I agreed. Of course, she didn't suffer from delusions. Unlike her, I never let reality get in the way the potential that I might envision.

When I'd take such an excursion, my friend would smile and ride along, until the moment she made a motion of pulling in a kite string, and said, "C'mon, down." Then she'd point to the ground, still smiling. "C'mon, you can do it. You know where your feet belong. We have to walk back to the dorm soon."

Grounded.

I've always been lucky to have friends who kept my feet on the ground . . .

because the view from in the atmosphere is so much nicer.

I still believe that we can get there.

--me strauss Letting me be

Clear 'til Next Sunday

It was a backyard rule. We couldn't go past Rose's garden ever. That was our boundary. Never leave that part of the country without someone over 18 years old until we were at least 10 years old ourselves. So once we were 10, that summer going past Rose's garden was all that we ever did.

It was far further than that.

It was at least 20 minutes past Rose's garden.

No map could show the way there. You would need the services of a Lewis and Clark pair such as my best friend, Craig and I, to manage the way. To this day, I can barely remember, and I doubt whether Craig can either.

The trek was a long one -- past Rose's garden across the rest of the backyard and up the riverbank. We followed the bank left through the sun, then through the trees, around the end of the slough where the dead fish washed up in the mud. We called that "Fish Grave."

Our mothers could always tell when we'd been there.

Picking our way through the driftwood and occasional decay, we'd zag our way across to the pennisula where the "Forest of Mysteries" held the stories we made. As we walked through the underbrush, looking for flowers and signs of humanity, we once described an entire village and the events of a battle that took place to keep it safe.

A massive granite boulder stood, near a path we knew. That was the "Resting Rock," where we thought important thoughts of important days. It was there we decided who we would be. It was there we determined how the world worked. It was there that we deemed the best movie of the year.

When we stood on that rock, we could see clear 'til next Sunday.

Just beyond, "The Resting Rock," when we were lucky, if we looked at the right time of year, we could find a path to a tiny, leafy place. There . . . just about 20 minutes beyond Rose's garden, where we couldn't go until we were over 10 years old . . . is where the fairies are. That's where dreams and wishes are made. That's where magic and happiness happens. Smiles start. Hearts warm. Kids aren't afraid.

It's a real place where the fairies are.

When you've seen clear 'til next Sunday, some things you know never fade.

--me strauss Letting me be

Blurry Dots

I paint a dot. You paint a dot near it.
We talk about the dots we've painted.
I tell you what I see.
You tell me what you see. We trust.

Thank you for trusting me. What a graceful sharing trust can be.
Trust is a dance of faith, respect, and unconditional love.

Trust lights our faces with colors of possibility. It makes the colors blend beautifully as we turn.

See the dots, colored lights in an evening of a life are our thoughts hanging together. We trust, and we are better than we were alone.
I give my trust to add to the colors in your world.
--me strauss Letting me be

The Genius that Is You Returns

And it can seem that you've been in the place of darkness visible for almost forever, even though you only have been for a few days.

The light that you feel shining on you makes you realize that the deepest thoughts of you have always been where you've kept them safe, maybe too safe.

I don't know. Would you know? I don't know. It's not a knowing thing. It's a feeling thing in this matter.

Open up to the light, find your way out to the world. Come back into the colorful vibrancy that is you.

Please.

Find the purples and blues in the indigo. They'll help you. I know. I've been there too. Reflect a white shining in the light of the lookers on. Don't get cold. Your fragility a beautiful thing.

Oh please.

Genius is as delicate as a hibiscus flower in the dead of night. It is solitary and silent when no one cares for it. It's unshielded, unsheltered, but gentle beauty breathes through every cell.

If you shy from the light, you might become lost and invisible.

The rainbows and the people who love are where you see soft light shining in. It's the light, that soft light, that makes the darkness visible. It's the light that will bring you home to us again,. When it does, you will make the heartless darkness evaporate. You will make history a thing of the past.

We'll wait the future. We will wait forever. We'll wait for the genius that is you to return.

And you will.

-me strauss Letting me be