I started reading this girl’s blog (http://www.kissesfromkatie.blogspot.com) , and what she said just hit home so many times I began to think we were soul sisters somewhere along the way. Then I found out all she was doing, and I felt so humbled and like “Man, no way am I catching up to her!” And then I finally read her book—and found it in Portuguese, so bought that as well. It takes a lot before I will buy a book. She has been a blessing to me spiritually, and God has used her words in my life. So, I pass it on to you. I sware, these are the words I wish I’d said first:

“People who really want to make a difference in the world usually do it, in one way or another.” –Beth Clark

“God reminded me again that l have one purpose, in Uganda and in life, and that is to love. I could ask for no greater assignment.”

“The contradiction comes when I realize that all these experiences and emotions were real. The happiness that gave me chill bumps was as deep as my loneliness. My sense of certainty about being exactly where God wanted me was solid, but just as firm was the fact that I wondered at times what on earth I was doing here. The frustration that threatened to overtake me on some occasions was just as deep and true as the unbounded joy I felt at other times. I loved my new life; I truly loved it. But compared to the life I had been living, it was hard.”

“I have learned that something happens when one makes herself available to God: He starts moving in ways no one could imagine.”

“I didn’t want to simply care for these people, I wanted to advocate for them. I wanted to raise more awareness for these voiceless, unseen children. I wanted people who were warm in their down-comforters to know that there were other children out there, all alone. I wanted to tell their story.”

“Adoption is a beautiful picture of redemption. It is the Gospel in my living room. And sometimes, it’s just hard. Adoption is a redemptive response to tragedy that happens in this broken world. My family, adopting these children, it is not optional. It is not my good deed for the day, it is not what I am doing to “help out those poor kids.” I adopt because God commands me to care for the orphans and the widows in their distress. I adopt because Jesus says that to whom much has been given, much will be demanded. Most days, that doesn’t include anything other people would find impressive. It simply means being faithful to the people and responsibilities God has given me.”

“I don’t believe it is possible to tell a child about the love of Christ without simultaneously showing her that love by feeding her, clothing her, inviting her in.”

“And when there’s nothing left, and we feel we’re all in pieces, God begins to make us whole. He makes us real… The more I love, the more love I have to give.”

(When visiting the USA) “I have stepped out of my reliance on God to meet my needs. I “miss” Jesus. He hasn’t disappeared, of course, but I feel so far from him because my life is actually functioning without Him…I found it strange when people looked doubtfully at me when I said “God will provide.” I knew He would; I’d seen Him do it. I wasn’t naïve; I was simply dependent on a God who loved my children and employees more than I did…I’m not running a business, so I can’t just ‘make some cuts.’ I’m sure everyone who suggested I lighten my load meant well, but I sometimes wonder what they would have said had I recommended that THEY simply discard one of THEIR children. All I had to do was look at what happened the previous year. Had God ever failed to provide exactly what was needed? No. Why, then would I ever believe He would fail to provide now, even though I was living in America?”

“I have come to the realization that I am somewhat of a nomad on this earth. I am learning to be okay with that. Human beings long for a place to call home. I have many and none. My heart lives in so many places. With so many people. But God whispers to me that I really have only one home, and that is with Him. I will never be content on this earth. I will always be a nomad. It was meant to be that way. And I will continue bouncing from one home to another, loing with everything I have in whatever location I currently reside, excitedly awaiting the day when I am called heavenward and He says to me, “Welcome home.”

“My five year old knows how to be Jesus’ hands to others. I can stand and watch the children I have loved and cared for turn around and compassionately love and care for others. My girls have come to believe that taking strangers, sick people, and outcasts is normal.”  (I desperately need this to be true of my life always)

“This has taught me one of the greatest lessons: the tension between inefficiency and faithfulness. The assurance that I must obey and be faithful only to what He has asked of me, even when tangible, earthly results or successes are not seen. I want to help them all, fix all their problems, and successfully find a solution to their horrendous living conditions. But often in an unideal situation, there is not an ideal solution this side of heaven. The projects started in this community are wonderful, but they meet the needs of only some people; they only scratch the surface of the problems. God assures me this is ok.”

“I was angry because I believed, and still believe, that the God who created the universe did not create too many children in His image and not enough love to go around. And I wanted to do more. I wanted to help them all. God whispered that one is enough. Because every time I stop for that one sick child, that one hungry old man, that one new baby girl, my mind races with the statistics of how many more I am not touching, not feeding, not saving. God whispers every time, though, that this one is enough. It is enough that this one is feeling His love and that love is eternal. Eternal. This is what I mean when I say I do it for Jesus. He loved me first; I love Him back. And sometimes it hurts.

I believe there is only one truly courageous thing we can do with our lives: to love unconditionally. Absolutely, with all of ourselves, so much that it hurts and then more.”

It is the day before Mother’s day, and I miss my mom more than usual. Because she was just here, and you miss things you have had recently more. Or something like that. I feel like it has been forever since I just sat down and wrote a blog. Something that was just my thoughts, instead of documenting past or future events. So be prepared to be bombarded with my thoughts from the past month that I am just now making official. But first, another documentation.

Exciting stuff: the 2013 Trek for Transportation (www.wribrazil.com/trek). This year is extra special for two reasons: Raising $25,000 is in sight! We have the $3,500 raised from last year, and a $7,000 dollar-for-dollar matching grant. Also, this year we have shirts: http://ministrymedia.bigcartel.com/product/living-stones-brazil. Not only are they a cool color, but the proceeds go towards Living Stones as well: win-win!

Please come for an awesome time June 8th, at 10am, to Southeastway park. It is a child and animal friendly park, and the path is paved if you want to ride your bike or rollerblade. You will hear stories and get information about what God is doing in Brazil, as well as get some exercise and support a great cause. There are prizes for the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd place runners! If you can’t make it, please donate to someone who is running: we really need this vehicle to reach the most impoverished areas of Northeast Brazil!   

…For now. They made it home safe last night.

I let Koral off the hook on writing a goodbye post, but here is from my mother:

So many thank you’s, where can you start? Obviously Rachel–for all she has enabled and provided and done for us here, as well as her roommate Suena and all her friends and their help. Thank you World Renewal Brazil (The Moraes, Jeff and Lindsay, and new friends Joe and Karen Turner), and Living Stones, and Athletes in Action (Suarez family and Luzinho). Thank you Massa Humana (Washington and Andrea, Stephanie and the Second Baptist church) and older friends, the Peres family.

Everything I wanted to see and do was made possible with their “feats.” We will take home memories of the children (Koral was hoping some of the children would fit in our suitcases, but Rachel overruled it) and their families, who we will be keeping in awe and prayer. They do so well under such difficult circumstances–we are so spoiled. I am ready to go, however, as I really miss my men (Anna has done so much extra for them, for which I am grateful, but I need them!)

Much of my time here ended up also being a retreat spent with the Lord. I had just picked up one of John Eldredge’s books, and read about seeing things from God’s perspective, that He is willing to push us to our limits to get us where He wants us, when I’d fallen and pulled muscles in both ankles. What can you do with such a wild Beloved? Rarely have I had sweeter time with Him or learned more that I needed to–so to Him, above all, I give thanks.

Our last couple of days with pictures:

May 3rd: We recovered enough from our sunburns to move without wincing and went to Cajueiro Claro church:

May 4th: Our last time at the dump

May 5th: Rebecca’s 5th birthday and monkeys

Koral: This week as either been very long, or really quite short…. I haven’t made up my mind yet. Between terrible sunburns and general sickness, I haven’t been able to really DO much, but what I have been able to do has been more than worth it. On Sunday, we met a family of eight girls living in a small house of cement walls and dirt floors and I was reminded of all the complaining I did about living in a perfectly good two bedroom house with six people.  Being here never ceases to remind me how absolutely spoiled I am back home, how spoiled we all are as Americans.

Brazilians are spoiled in another way however, with the sheer beauty of the land around them. I went to the beach for the first time I can remember on Thursday and I shall never forget it. The water that seemed to go on forever, slipping effortlessly from color to color, the fish darting between my leg and arms, the sun shining off the water and bouncing off their scales…. It was simply beautiful. I did pay for it with an awful sunburn, but it was more than worth the price. And I also got pizza with tomato sauce, which makes everything wonderful!

Mom: The first part of our trip was filled with firsts and getting to meet and see so much of what has been Rachel’s life the past 10 years or so, and getting to meet “her” children from all over and giving them love gifts.

This week has been filled more with what she does when on short vacations here. In the big town of Recife (3^rd largest city in Brazil) we first had an exciting opportunity of getting from point A to point B in the  “Venice of South America” (exciting, but then, I didn’t have to do the driving). We had a shopping day in Old Recife (overwhelmed with scores of stands, we mostly stuck with the ones Rachel already knew), Casa Cultura (an old 3-story prison converted to actual shops) and Olinda (hostels and shops wrapping around a large hill overlooking the ocean).

Another day we went to the Chicken port (porto de Galinhas), a gorgeous beach with yet another small town of multitudes of places to shop, but known for decorating with the base of old, cut down palm trees and painting the top portion white and like a chicken with enormous, crazy eyes. We were taken by a wonderful family and some other dear friends of Rachel’s, as they even brought a shelter and did all they could for my personal benefit.

I’d longed to see the fish they spoke of that people walk out to see when the tide goes out, but was grateful for the chairs they had carried in when we got to that part of the beach, as the walking was harder than I had expected. It was still lovely, but God wasn’t done blessing me as Rachel returned with a beach wheelchair! I was pushed to the shallows and lifted into a kind of raft with board seats and a sail. We went around the area, then stopped twice for the girls to get out with masks and see the fish that came for the fishfood. It was amazing!

The next day and a half were needed for rest, of course, as the girls’ sunburns were just as impressive as my many memories of the day.

Continuing with our picture review:

April 25: Koral’s Birthday was filled with flowers, as the kids wanted to do something special for her:

We then celebrated April birthdays at Guadalajara:

And last but not least, the surprise:

April 26: was our day to see Recife and Olinda

April 27: Koral and my mom taught the children colors in English:

and their first churrasco

April 28: We fought through the rain to get to these sweet girls:

 (the special princess tea set from Disneyworld)

April 29: Our only chance to get to meet the kids from Carpina, and celebrate the April birthdays:

April 30: At Guadalajara, we shared about how important mothers are, and to start planning how they can bless their moms this month!

May 1 was Labor Day in Brazil, so we were off to the beach:

And found mom a beach wheelchair:

 Had an amazing boat ride:

May 2: Burnt to a crisp

World Vision has 49 groups in Brazil, 3 of which are in Alagoas, the poorest state in Brazil (Pernambuco, my state, follows close behind). They sponsor/assist 85,000 children through 300 workers all over Brazil. At the group we visited in Alagoas, they have 27 workers for 3,500 children in 98 small rural communities.

(map of the 98 stations. Koral is pointing to the town we were in)

They started in 2007, after assessing the great need. Along with World Vision, they partner with Vivo, a telephone company that wanted to support a good social project: this doubles their resources and children that they can support.

Alagoas is part of the Sertao, the dry, desert-y area filled with rocks and a very hard life. The main problem is a lack of water. In the past, the government would only invest in putting in wells and water for large land owners, which created a political dynamic where only the rich got water and the poor spent all day (the woman and children) carrying water home on their head. In the late 80s and 90s, over a million Northeastern Brazilians died of a lack of water, food, or diseases that accompany deep poverty.

Fifteen years ago, some developmental groups got together and used updated technology and understanding to create household cisterns, collecting the water that falls off the roof for drinking water. They also developed other systems for gather water in fields and filtering it enough to use for animals and plants.

(the white tee-pee like thing is the cistern)

Unfortunately, the Sertao has not received the amount of rain needed to survive since 2006—continuing this year, it makes it the worst drought in 30-50 years (depending on the place). Cattle are literally dying in the middle of the field (we saw and smelled them), and no one will buy them because there is no food or water to give them.

World Vision is doing many things to help the community in integral ways. With the children, they have a wonderful literacy program, computer program, music and dance program, celebration parties, and Bible story/study time. With the women, they are teaching them some different trades working with sewing and art, such as decorating towels to sell at the farmers market.

They have a wonderful chicken program, where it costs less than $2000 to set up a family with enough chickens to provide a minimum wage income from the eggs—that they then pay back for the next family to receive. Same thing with goats (milk). They have organic farming tips and assistance, as well as a farmers market set up for all the families to come and sell their products. It is amazing to see the pride in the faces of these families that are now able to provide for their families!

Two especially interesting ideas I liked were the fruit cooperative and the seed bank. The women came together in a community and they bought things to make fruit juice and popsicles to sell. They bring their own fruit (which would have gone bad) to make products for themselves and the farmers market. The seed bank makes sure that the families will have enough corn and bean seed when planting time comes—and then they pay it back at harvest time.

When you support a child through World Vision, the money goes to provide these programs and support for them and their family. During times of emergency, like now, they also may come in with food baskets, until the people can plant and again be self-sufficient. It is so important to help the people be independent and find their own solutions.

(Ronivon is on the left)

Our tour guide was Ronivon, who himself had grown up as a World Vision sponsored child. His family had been a part of the goat program, allowing him to go to school instead of work on the farm. At school, the educational programs assisted him enough to be able to pass the hard college entrance exams. After that, he became a field worker with World Vision, and is now one of the regional workers—a true success story.

Our trip began with a bus that dropped us off in the middle of nowhere at 3:30am. As Ronivon picked us up (I had only met him on the phone), I had the fleeting thought of “Oh dear, what if he isn’t really with World Vision?” But he was and we were dropped off at the local “pousada” (family style hotel) to rest and have breakfast. Four hours later, he picked us up and took us to the World Vision office to meet everyone. They had a special presentation and power point that ended in a snack the size of a buffet. They also invited Jane, a missionary from England who was doing an internship nearby, to help translate.

 (Jane is in the green shirt next to Koral)

Everyone was overwhelmingly kind. They took us to the town center, where they have a beautiful literacy program (that I can only dream of having one day with my kids), music program, and computer program. In the city, they offer the kids a class every week for 2 hours. Each day there are four classes, so about 300 children a week. In the more rural areas (they have a total of 98 “stations”) they go once a month to provide these services, with the field workers (hired locally) visiting more often to make sure the families are getting all they need.

We then visited two chicken farms, where they also explained to us different water systems and agricultural advancements they had brought in to help the community.

(the picture to the left is the cistern for the animals and plants–water collected from the large skating rink like cement put in a field. The picture on the right shows the water collected (for drinking) from the roof.

After lunch and a siesta, we went to visit Koral’s two sponsored children. This young family lives in the middle of nowhere down roads our 4×4 truck could only slowly pass. They kindly invited us in and we talked and laughed for almost an hour with this couple and their children who work so hard to make the barest of living off of planting corn and beans.

(their field to plant/supply their livelihood)

The day we arrived was the first good rain of the season, so while we were wet—everyone was rejoicing. Now, if the rain continues, they can begin planting. We then visited (and ate at) the juice and popsicle coop—delicious!

Our last stop was the organic farm of one of the families that brings their produce to the farmers market World Vision has set up. In a dry desert, this place was a beautiful oasis where Koral saw her first “sanguine” (spider monkey). We ate oranges off the tree and saw her many different plants, as well as her obvious joy and love of planting and being able to provide for her family.

(this cactus-like plant is used for cooking and animal food)

The next morning, Ronivon picked us up and took us to the bus station for our nine hour trip home, but not before offering me a job with World Vision.

It was so encouraging to see so many programs working—solutions in progress. Many ideas I had heard about, but it is so much better to see in person. Many of the things they are doing I hope we can offer one day through Living Stones. If I had another life to live, I’d be very tempted to take Ronivon up on his job offer. But for now, I have my own 300 children to take care of.

From Koral:

Brazil has been a wonderful experience so far and I’m learning and seeing new things every day. We broke from the normal schedule this week to take a trip to the next state over to see two children my family sponsors through World Vision. It was nine hour trip, but worth every moment of it. Not only did I get to meet two of the most adorable children that have ever walked the earth, but I got to see a way of living that is different than that even back here at Living Stones.  

That area is suffering from one of the worst droughts in over forty years and driving down the road you can count at least a dozen different animals in an hour that have simply dropped over dead from the heat and lack of water.  You can hear about droughts and famine and a single farm loosing over 100 cattle, but nothing makes it quite as real or makes you realize just how good you really have it than to see a field of dry bones dotted with a few….more intact remains.

In other news, I want to kidnap at least half the children here, or at least hug them until my arms fall off, and I almost die of an adorableness overload at least twice a day. I FINALLY made a basket while playing basketball with the children from Guadalajara, an accomplishment I never thought possible –insert cheers and standing ovations here, accompanied by a marching band and confetti-. I’ve also learned I fail at bubble blowing, but the kids forgive me for that and have a good time laughing.

From Cyndi (also known as my mom):

Having slightly twisted both ankle in a fall last Wednesday night, I am keeping things to a minimum of getting out right now—but enjoying a wonderful retreat with the Lord in Rachel’s lovely apartment. What I have been able to do has been to watch her ministry in singing, serving, and teaching character, hygiene, and English all over the area.

The first thing I attended was where she helps with a World Renewal Community English class outreach where Tele Moraes preaches as his son David interprets, and they all singing before they teach English to the students in their classes. During the week she works in both Guadalajara and Carpina (like everything else, a long bus ride and a walk) various times a week with Glory Sports, where first the girls get over an hour of basketball training and a character lesson with Rachel, and then the boys are treated the same. They are a part of the Living Stones program, but the main projects are continuing at Mussurepe (at Grandma Bel’s, who makes them lunch) and Cajueiro Claro (the church where Flavio pastors and lives in the back, and where Marlene—the mom of the home where Rachel stayed some—does the cooking).

They all sing together and then Rachel takes the girls (Pastor Flavio takes the boys) for lessons. There are more intact families at Mussurepe, so they are able to do more teaching with them: Flavio and his wife, Mercia, have the awesome responsibility of showing the families of Cajueiro Claro what God can do in a marriage and family.

Her other Living Stones ministry is with Massa Humana at the dump, where she (and other volunteers) sing, tell a story, and do a craft with all the kids while Washington drives back for donated soup to pass out into all the pots the kids bring to take back to their homes.

In the city, traffic is contained by using “Lombadas” (giant speed bumps everywhere), but at the end of town they—and all the houses, streets, and pavement abruptly end. The families that live at the dump are Brazil’s “recycling program”-using and selling out of all they pick through, often even making a place to live.  Some do have normal, Brazilian homes right there and even travel in boots, but most have sandals at best, and not even gloves or any protection from the potential disease, buzzards, or smell of the place. But the children generally notice none of that, smiling and creatively making toys in it all.

In keeping up our account of the days, April 18:

Mussurepe

Guadalajara (home of Koral’s infamous shot)

April 19th:

Koral’s first experience of playing soccer in the rain. I find it funny that Gustavo did the same hand gestures as I did.

Church in Cajueiro Claro and passing out the presents

April 20th:

An amazing time at the dump

April 21st:

traveling to Amaxias for church and (not eating) the decapitated Tanajura

April 22nd: After traveling all night by bus, getting to Alagoas, where Koral’s World Vision children were:

The workers–27 works helping 3,500 children in 98 small rural community groups (on the map)

They have incredible agriculture assistance for the families, making sure they get water in this dry area, can be a part of a seed bank, fruit/vegetable cooperative, raising chickens and goats, and many other programs. For the children, they also have great literacy, music, and computer classes.

Koral’s World Vision sponsored children: such cuties!

April 23rd: A nine hour bus ride back to Recife where we went to the new (largest in South America) mall:

When you have two worlds

And someone comes from one into the other

It feels a bit like breaking the rules

The rules you wish no one wrote

It feels a bit like magic

and you wake up in the middle of the night

To pinch yourself

Is it really true?

The things you wait for the longest

When they finally happen

Leave you in half a daze

Trying to reconcile the new reality

The present that has never been before

And the unknown futures this creates

They are experiencing layover

And I feel a bit hung over

With the happiness of a dream

Come true

I asked Koral and my mother to give you some of their thoughts about their first 5 days in Brazil:

Koral: Brazil is beautiful, as I’m sure many have said before me.  The landscape is breathtaking of course, but for some reason I find the towns with their depilated houses and cracked roads and leaning fences more beautiful still. It wasn’t until yesterday looking out the window on a bus that I figured out why. Back home we strive to take the struggle out of everything, to hide the imperfections and remove even the smallest flaw. We have towering skyscrapers of convenience and precision, but that’s not life. The beauty in life comes from struggle and those who overcome it. Every crack and crumbling wall and patched roof is a testament to this hardship.  But this is alone is not where the beauty comes from. An abandon ghost town has all of these things, yet it gives off a feeling of foreboding and unnaturalness. It is the people who make all the difference. They’re everywhere, working, playing, fighting their circumstances. They haven’t given in, they haven’t given up. Life goes on despite the extra effort it requires. There are still smiles on their faces, still a laugh in their soul. It is from the people that the beauty comes.

Cyndi (Mostly called Mom or Grandma here): What a wonderful time we have had! So many firsts (trying more than 12 new fruits, a manicure, flora, fauna, and friends here) and things I haven’t done in years (push my way out of a bus, ride a motorcycle, try to understand sermons based on the reference and the half dozen words I understand)!

God has multiplied and blessed from the plane coming directly to Recife and their trying so hard to get me through in the wheelchair that we never even did go through customs, to my occasionally tearful excitement at finally seeing so many people that have meant so much to my daughter. And it is only day 5…

Day 1 (Saturday): Arrived safe in Recife, rested, and went to English class where Rachel shamelessly kept introducing us to everyone. Then met big frozen fish at the grocery store.

Day 2:

 Sorting over 312 presents for the children and 50 for the mothers

 Church at Paudalho

Cheers with good friends

Day 3:

 Meeting the children in Mussurepe

 Finally meeting Karine and Edward

Day 4:

 the girls from Guadalajara

The boys from Guadalajara:

First manicure for mom:

Day 5:

How we get to Cajueiro Claro

 teaching the kids some English

I just watched “New Girl” and ”Modern Family” instead of working on blog postings. It has been a long day, and I am tired. This morning Pastor Flavio’s car broke down so I went to Mussurepe alone and ran the program with 20 kids. I got a free ride over the bumpy long ride into the small town, but had to walk the rest of the dusty way. I visited Arthur, who broke his leg and so hasn’t been to Living Stones in a couple months.

My feet turned brown and I’d forgotten sunscreen this morning. Getting a ride home was another problem. After walking the long way through the town, there were no motorcycles to be found. I was glad I’d brought a book. Until it started raining. Then I was glad I’d brought a poncho. The men sitting at the bridge with me had never seen a plastic poncho: congratulations, the American just got weirder. But, she stayed dry as she rode the motorcycle in the rain. 30 minutes to wash my feet and eat lunch and off to Guadalajara.

20 girls is fine, but almost 40 boys for two workers? A mess. And it was one of those days when they just can’t stop dribbling to listen or pass the ball that doesn’t smack someone in the nose. And Daniel, with Downs, kicking everyone he could reach. The boys I had to ask to leave didn’t, they threw rocks at the door instead. And I have to act all tough with them and sometimes I need to stop and listen but it is hard to know when and I made the one little boy cry instead.

And I want to relax and do nothing but I feel guilty. I want to do so much more. I want to be so much more than this girl sprawled out on her bed, tired. It has been a good week, working with almost 300 children now, planning ahead to have things just right when my mom and friend come. Who am I fooling? I can’t plan anything! Just the other day the Kombe stopped and they told us to get out. This is what I saw:

The main road cut off by protesters because there were no doctors or supplies at the hospital. It was a royal mess that ended up with me getting a popsicle and then walking through town until I found a motorcycle to take me around and through side roads since all the main ones were blocked. After going on trails you couldn’t even call roads, we got through to the other side where I got a ride from someone else who had given up trying to pass through the city. Hum. No, I can’t control things. And sometimes, I just get tired.

I love that I don’t have to know what time it is or what I look like. At the beach there are no mirrors and no watches, just endless waves that make my stare at them hypnotically. What am I looking at? I haven’t seen it yet, but it isn’t my reflection, and I am glad.

I watched a video that said we know 3% of the ocean. THREE. We know more of the moon than of the ocean. And every time I get in that ocean, I wonder about that 97%. Mostly, about if it will eat my toes. I have an irrational fear of being toe-eaten, probably a combination of one scary movie, one dad who would bite my toes when we swam in the lake, and one jellyfish that stung me last year.

That and cows. I’m also afraid of those big beasts that loom on street corners and low at you menacingly. One passed by the beach house twice last night, lowing extra mean. These are not your average black and white pretty-eyed cows; they are the tough Brahmans, the get-out-of-my-way cows that have chased me before. Enough said.

The sky never stops thrilling me-the morning colors, the actual appearance of the sun, the diamond rays it casts early morning, the heated afternoon hidden by sunglasses, the blinking twilight. And then the moon. Rising out of the ocean, it has made no less of an impression than the sun. The full circle glows orange until you see Saturn rise above it, and then it regains its grey/white composure.

David has this computer program to identify the stars from your specific location and time. Click a button, and you transform the night into myths and legends. My two faithful constellations in the southern hemisphere—southern cross and Orion, have now been joined by friends as I find Gemini from Orion’s arrow, and Cyrus from his feet. The main star of the Southern Cross (which reminds me of a kite), is actually the crotch of the centaur, and above it all is a huge ship constellation—the body of which is called Carina.

Dancing in the moonlight—not knowing what I looked like and not caring. Forgetting I am made of different pieces and legs and awkwardness—I was suddenly one: movement and wind and water kissing my ankles coming in and out. The rhythm of waves and music pulsing in me and I was free—free from self-consciousness, 100% whole. No motives or effects or perceptions or expectations. And it left quickly, I couldn’t hold it long.

I returned to thinking of my posture and individual parts that make a whole and what song was this and all the scattered normalness. And I miss it already.