The Hammer Struck Three Blows

Last week, I was in Mass, at Camp Hi-Rock (oh, my goodness, it's a beautiful place!!), with a few hundred other pagans. The event was awesome, in so many ways thought provoking and uplifting. It was hilly, required a lot of walking, a lot of awareness of surroundings, gave plenty of opportunity for introspection.

Introspection and interaction.

Can't be in a remote campground for five days with several hundred people and not interact...even if it is huge site.

I had quite a few conversations, most of them light, desultory chit-chat, but three of them struck me to the core.

The first was with a woman who mentioned that her life was good, now, in part because she loved and was loved in equal measure for the first time in her life. Out of the blue, she mentioned this. It was a hammer blow to the heart. I had to follow her back to her booth and talk to her about...well...what was churning in my mind, in my gut. I told her my story, and she smiled so sweetly, so gently, and told me I was telling her once-upon-a-time...and now she's happy...so very happy...

The second was with a woman who was on the other side of the coin - she loved her husband, but he stopped loving her. It was a hammer blow to the heart. I had to speak to her, to learn her story. It hurt, she said, to know she loved him and he did not reciprocate, but she knew it wasn't any way to model a marriage, to model love, for her child. She is with a man who loves her, now. She's happy - happier than she'd thought she could ever be. So is he. They raise their daughter together, make decisions together, and are happy.

The third was with a man who shared our cabin. We talked about how differently people receive love, and how some people don't believe they deserve to be loved, to be happy, can't accept it. It was a hammer blow to the heart. He said everyone deserves love, even when they don't believe it. If only they could learn to accept the loving, they could know what it is to be joyful. I couldn't speak to him, only listen as my poor organ, the center of loving, shattered and fell in pieces before me.

The hammer struck three blows, and my stone heart was turned to dust.