This is an excerpt from my journal. Something written immediately after class, uncensored. I find I edit too much if I just try to sit down at the computer and try to blog. Sometimes honesty trumps good writing and grammar.
It's from December:
Most amazing Imagination Workshop today. So much chaos and emotion to experience- or witness, actually. Esperanza is a family, a home away from home. So much intimacy. Tony did a mediation on ghosts and spirits today. After, Steve asked us if we'd ever seen any ghosts and Tony spoke of the Fairyman across the street- a mortician with a top hat- and when Tony saw him, the Fairyman said, "Don't worry, this coffin isn't for you, it's just for luggage."
Steve asked Jose if he'd even seen a ghost. Jose described touching this father's cold hands at his funeral. He broke down. We hugged for a long time. Layla came in 57 minutes late today, saw Jose and I embracing and immediately ran to him. She bent down in front of him and they spoke in whispers, bits of Spanglish further garbled by Down's Syndrome. She kissed his face, she hugged him. She touched her forehead softly to his. He brushed her hair out of her eyes and grazed her cheek with his stubby fingers. She made him smile. Like lovers.
I sat no further than 6 inches away, in awe. How gracious of them to let me watch this.
I wouldn't go so far to say that the Imagination Workshop taught me how to love- I would say that it taught me how to embrace and accept it fully and give it without hesitation. Love each other. Care about each other. Do it without questioning and it will heal you. We can't save everyone but we can let them know how much we want to.
The love here is physical, and immediate. It heals me every week.
And yet it's not entirely unconditional. We're all human, anyway.