Roasting Anastasia: into the fire with me.

Though it might not, initially, appear analogous to the untrained eye, that just as being blind made a shaman of me, our Abkhazian Dinner has taken me once again, into the fire of transformative change. And, believe me, it can be kind of hot in that fire.




Even if it gets hot in here,
I want to travel with you.

 This recent descent of mine into the underground of my psyche, destined to, in due course, raise me up once again, began on my drive home from the Abkhazian Dinner event, upon realizing that I was, indeed, quite hungry,. Now how could that have occurred, my having just left a scrumptious feast of food; Abkhazian, Indian and ordinary American, as well as other delicacies, with even a banana bread, identified as Abkhazian by its donors, though we have no information to date as to whether or not Abkhazia even grows bananas?

What was even more delicious, had been the assortment of people. Had I asked myself, before leaving the event, upon which would I have chosen to indulge, had I needed to make a conscious choice between them, it certainly would have been the people, first and foremost, I would have chosen ahead of the food for my feast. Now, I asked myself, how had it happened that I was driving home hungry, having had very little of either; people or food?

Well, that was the beginning of my next round of transforming experiences. I am presently into the fire, roasting, myself being cooked.

More to come.

From Anastasia