This short story was written on retreat at Tiratanaloka Retreat Centre for women over Christmas and New Year 2017/18. Inspired by my habitual morning walks in the Brecons area it was an opportunity to reflect upon my sense of connection within myself and as an experience of the natural world. I've had several requests to share it and so here it is, in a fairly raw state... It's probably appropriate that it is something of a work in progress.
The Girl in Pieces
Once upon a time there was a girl all in bits. It’s not that she was broken, just that her mother and father (who had been a bit broken) didn’t really know how exactly to make a girl. They had been very careful and done their research. They had tried hard. They bought a house and made it as nice as they could. They made sure she was able to learn lots and have things called Opportunities. Then they got all the pieces of a girl and put them in all the right places. She had two eyes, two hands, two arms and legs, two ears, just one mouth and quite enough hair. Sadly, her mother and father hadn’t known what to do with their love, though they’d had plenty of it, as broken people often do. They had bundled it all up tightly like a tangled ball of string and locked it for safekeeping in her heart. She definitely had a heart, too. If only her mother and father had known how to sew all her pieces together with it then they might have done really a very good job indeed.
As it was, every night, all the girl’s pieces would wander off, with nothing to hold them together. This was very troublesome for her and life was difficult indeed. Happily, the Earth Goddess had taken great pity on this poor, scattered being (as she is wont to do when watching over all the land of suffering) and knowing how dangerous it was to have all your pieces wandering any which where, every night, the Earth Goddess would safely hide each of the girls pieces in a different place, to save them from being eaten up or lost forever. Sometimes, a foot would go in the folds of her hill-skirts, or maybe the nose would be hidden in a cloud-pocket where it could breathe good, fresh air. The Earth Goddess was clever like that. Every morning, when the girl awoke, she would go outside, thank the earth Goddess and gather in all her pieces. Sometimes they were hard to find but some days, when the sun was out, they rushed out to greet her happily. Some days she completely forgot to find herself. Those were not good days. Sometimes, a piece would stay hidden for all the searching in the world. Those days could be difficult.
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One day, when the girl had been living far from green things and had forgotten to find her pieces for more than ten whole years (fast becoming a broken person herself and not even so much of a girl any more), she was lucky enough to meet a beautiful, radiant being with one thousand arms. He reminded her about finding her hidden parts and told her where her thread of love was. He also told her that her old feeling that it could one day be untangled and brought out in the world was the truest feeling of all.
Last I heard, she had started learning to sew.
Last I heard, she had started learning to sew.