Crazy talk…

There is a hibiscus growing in front of my house in my neighbour’s garden…

This tree puts on a spectacular show in the Summer…

Every second person stops,

to remark upon it,

and then pauses again,

to remark  upon,

the contorted filbert,

which grows in my garden…

Both trees are a hotbed for snails…

I don’t remember seeing snails very much when I was growing up…

In fact my only memory of seeing a live snail as a child,

was on a trip to Germany,

when I was four…

It was a giant,

and someone ate it,

for appetizers…

Snails often wander up my front porch,

and hang out on the side of the house…

One day,

as I was running out the door,

to get my children to daycare,

and myself to school,

I stopped to pluck twenty,

or more snails,

off the snail trees,

and put them into a Tupperware…

Sticking the Tupperware into my schoolbag,

with no plans,

other than an intention for mystery…

After lunch that day,

I couldn’t get my class to settle down…

So I invited all my students,

to sit in a circle,

with their eyes closed…

I said,

I have a surprise for you…

But you have to be very, very quiet…

Each child held out their hand,

and in each small palm,

I gently placed a snail…

Even though some of the children screamed,

when they opened their eyes,

they quickly calmed down,

under this snail spell,

and their disgust turned,

into pure delight…

Snails teach us about balancing protection and trust…

They remind us that the childlike sensitivities and energies of heart,

and feelings that are often discouraged,

or ridiculed,

early in life,

are still there within us,

and need to be protected…

Snails are hermaphrodites…

When mating,

snails stick together,

and shoot a love dart carrying sperm,

into the other snail,

then they can both,

lays eggs…

My class played with those snails for weeks…

They wrote about the snails,

they made homes for the snails,

they made up games,

and they read to their snails…

Sometimes when I watch hockey,

I wonder if people forget,

that play is an important part,

of the warrior’s demeanor…

Under the pressure of analysis,

and production,

fun gets lost…

And we need to find our way,

back home to it…