Supernatural

When you say goodbye to friends and family, it’s always difficult. Sometimes we know they will be leaving us and sometimes we don’t. Delphine was a beautiful young woman. Her hair was long and chocolate brown, she had soft doe eyes.  Big brown eyes that had specks of gold in them.  She spoke perfect French and English.  She traveled between France and America and everyone loved Delphine.  The problem was Delphine never loved herself.  

No one was sure exactly what happened to her.  She never spoke of her suffering. I knew it was there. Delphine began to withdraw.  She would disappear for hours and those hours became days and then became weeks. She would return exhausted and gaunt, her face and clothes dirty.  She would show up at my front door and just say, hi. She acted like no time at all had passed. Her chocolate brown hair matted, clumped together in knots.

I would feed her, give her clothes and try to help.  I asked about where she had been and would she like to stay a while. She would sleep and shower and leave again. I never knew where she was or when she would be back. She refused intervention and rehab. 

The wise women always dress in white. They don’t advertise, you know who they are.  Their shawls over their heads and shoulders, protecting sacred thoughts. Sweet florida water, orange flowers and cloves. They understand universal law. 

We always believed in spirit and knowing.  Understanding will automatically occur in your daily life when you are aware.  You have to be awake, eyes open to see. You can not read a book to find it. The priest at church will only read you stories and give you rules. He will keep you from the truth.

My grandmother’s friend Zazee would come to the house to visit.  My mother told us she was wise, that she could see without looking.  She knew things.

Zazee would come for a meal and stay for hours. My grandmother prepared the food for us. We were quiet while we ate. Later, she would sit with my grandmother in the kitchen over tea or coffee discussing the things she “just knew”.  We always asked what she knew about Delphine.  She would say very little which told us a lot. 

We listened and shared stories.  Many stories were of faith and miracles. But there would be none for Delphine. The magic of prayer stayed with us though.  We understood through intention that we could direct and change ourselves.  We understand the illusion this world creates for us and the thin line between this life and the next. 

There is a lot of distraction.  People are absorbed with their devices. They don’t want to feel. They like to occupy every moment with chatter and things far from human emotion and thought. It is up to us to share stories and experiences, to remember, to acknowledge, heal and grow.

Life is imperfect and people are imperfect. There are painful experiences as well as happy ones. People push down and reject the stories of mental illness, alcoholism, drug abuse and pain. But this is what makes us human, what makes us able to convey and understand the complexities of life and people. No one chooses suffering but sometimes the experience chooses you.

Delphine left us not when she died but when she became addicted. The years she was absorbed in the pain, we sought advice and extended it. Offering a safe place when she needed. Opening the door to change if she was ready. She left us before she decided to be ready.