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My afternoon was spent on the phone.

First with a past student, soul sister, and dear friend Kate Brenton. We were speaking about how, as teachers, we try out different metaphors, until we find the one that sparks spirits and touches hearts.

Once we find that perfect metaphor or story or comparison, we use it over and over ’til it’s worn like a river stone by the flow of our words. It becomes something that we offer to class after class until our lips know the shape of those sentences, until they become not words, but wisdom.

As teachers, we each have this little bit of the world’s wisdom that is ours to share and we are always looking for the right way to bring people to it, to invite… well, invitingly.

I think of it as a house. What I want to show you is an inner room where I have lit a fire and set out tea.

But in order to show you that room, before I can invite you to that space, I need to create a path from the road where you are walking, a charming path, perhaps, that leads to a mysterious door. So you are both welcomed and intrigued.

Which brings me to my second conversation of the afternoon with a woman who owns a retreat center where I am hoping to bring the Witch Campers this fall.

The word “witch” gave her pause.

She explored my website, the pictures felt warm, my words inviting, but the word “witch?”

In the end, it was intriguing. She read up a little before she phoned me back and asked what, exactly, we would do on retreat.

Be with the land.

Smile at the moon.

Share what moves our hearts as we make s’mores round the campfire.

Make foot baths from flowers and play with tarot cards.

Read poetry as ritual.

A path. And a door… that she decided to open.

More retreat details as I have them.

hugs,

maiasig1

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