When you are a small business owner and mother in a family of four (plus three pets), sometimes the best possible gift you can receive is the gift of solitude and reflection. Today was such a day. This afternoon after leaving the store early around 1pm, I ventured down the street with no intention other than to arrive at my Thai massage appointment three blocks away sometime before 3:30pm. I entered a new second-hand bookstore a few doors down from Red Tent Sisters called Circus. There I indulged in riffling through used collections of poetry by both well-known and little-known poets, relishing the delicious taste of having nowhere to be and nothing to do. I stumbled upon two works that spoke to me: a collection of poems to the Goddess, entitled Her Words, and a book of Sufism with quotes by Rumi, among others. After leaving Circus with my two new collections in tow, I wandered further along the Danforth hoping to discover a quaint place to curl up with my new titles, lamenting the recent closure of our local cafe and retreat, Chocolate Heaven. In good birthday fortune, I stumbled upon a new Espresso Bar which turned out to be connected to a long-time family favourite bar and brunch space called The Only Cafe. On entering I confirmed the fortuitousness of this new find as I encountered a scene of comfort, intellect and community amid a chess tournament and comfy armchairs. I ordered a latte and before settling into my poetry paused to take in a scene I would love to have photographed - the beauty of the brown and white swirl of my latte in its wide-mouthed mug, the paisley pattern of my new Sufism book, the low lighting and electricity of friendly competition in the air, the subtle sounds of CBC jazz playing in the background. Every poem seemed to speak to me, but perhaps the most fitting for the day was "When a Woman Feels Alone" by May Sarton. After revelling in this scene of poetry for close to an hour, I headed out to the Riverdale Homeopathic Clinic where I was booked to see Elizabeth Ewanchuk for a Thai massage. Elizabeth describes her work as a moving meditation and her attitude towards her work is contagious. I spent over an hour and a half breathing into passive stretches and attempting to loosen my grip, both literally and figuratively. I suspect my thirties will be all about faith and surrender. My thirtieth birthday afternoon was like an "amuse-bouche" at the beginning of a long and delicious meal. When a Woman Feels Alone
"When a woman feels alone,
when the room Is full of daemons," the Nootka tribe
Tells us, "The Old Woman will be there."
She has come to me over three thousand miles
And what does she have to tell me, troubled
"by phantoms in the night"?
Is she really here?
What is the saving word from so deep in the past,
From as deep as the ancient root of the redwood,
From as deep as the primal bed of the ocean,
From as deep as a woman's heart sprung open
Again through a hard birth or a hard death?
Here under the shock of love, I am open
To you, Primal Spirit, one with rock and wave,
One with the survivors of flood and fire,
Who have rebuilt their homes a million times,
Who have lost their children and borne them again.
The words I hear are strength, laughter, endurance.
Old Woman I meet you deep inside myself.
There in the rootbed of fertility,
World without end, as the legend tells it.
Under the words you are my silence.
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