Hi, honey. How are you today?
What can I do to help you, honey?
25 years ago, I would’ve said, I’m not your f-ing honey!
Now I think it’s sweet. They charm me, I charm them — and then becomes a full fledged charm fest. My friend said, Those men probably think you are some exotic bird who landed in their midst. Whatever the reason, I don’t feel threatened at all. I appreciate the help. I listen to their stories. I ask for their recommendations. I imagine every one a long-lost friend I haven’t seen in centuries.
I’ll take sweetness now, even if it’s fake (tho I can sniff that out for miles). I feel the genuineness. I don’t try to act anything other than who I am — other than to slow down a bit, listen more and enjoy my time here. There is a warmth and generosity of spirit I haven’t found as much in other places; a graciousness. Perhaps it’s how I’ve grown as a soul that I can now accept this type of being into my life and not feel superior or impatient. I enjoy the beautiful strangeness of it all.
And the mountains — oh, the mountains. My ancient friends who surround and protect me.