E-zine 1
May 2005

Soul Foraging:
Searching for self

Can a single person change the world? Well Jesus did, but that's not what I meant. We all matter. Everything we do has consequences. Humanity's consciousness as a whole rises whenever the individual strives to become a better person. We all matter.

I slammed closed my journal and jumped up. I had a gig. I slid on my leather pants, my little white tank top; my black boots and grabbed my guitar case while darting out of my front door. The chubby-cheeked little girl next door waved to me. What a sweetheart. I waved back as I jumped into my red Mustang, a '69, like me (but don't tell anyone my age!). I cranked up my music and rocked out. Some teenagers laughed when they saw me rocking out at the red light. I gave them a bright smile.

I drove downtown to a really hot club that featured live bands. On one of my city's poorer streets, I saw a homeless guy. I reached into the back of my car and pulled out a bag of oranges. I gave him the bag and drove forth. I would have to replace those tomorrow. I started humming out a tune, then hummed a little differently, yeah that was it. I was going to try it different tonight.

I pulled up to the club. People were lining up outside. I strode up to the door, and my best friend, Michelle pulled me aside.

"You have time for one coffee. Come on!" She dragged me next door. I was laughing. Over some spiced coffee, she told me about a total babe that she was going to leave her boyfriend for. She told me what she fantasized about doing with him. I gave her a stern look. I advised her not to do it. She asked me why in hell not? She reminded me about what I told her I did with my guy. She called me a wild child. She said I gave her ideas. My man had approached her smiling. She said that the smile had not left his face for a week, so I should not lecture her. I told her that he and I were in a committed relationship so why should I not rock his world? She asked me if I ever took any of the hotties from the show backstage.

"No!" I practically shouted. "I have class," I informed her. She sighed.

I was backstage with my band. I pulled out my black and white fender. I was just the rhythm guitarist but I sang a song or two.

My lead guitarist, Micky, approached me smiling, "L, you're playing this tonight," he handed me a 2002 Gibson. My mouth opened in surprise.

"This is a 2002, Gibson Digital Guitar. Will it be compatible with my equipment? "

"Yes," he smiled. "It has the HEX pickup. "

"What else?" I asked like an excited child.

"Eight outputs. There is one for each string, and a humbucking pickup output and pass-through for the microphone. There are two inputs that carry the audio back to the guitar for monitoring. A split mode assigns strings to different amps."

I gently ran my finger over the face of the lovely instrument.

Micky laughed. "Try it on, L."

I raised my brow and lifted the Gibson over my head. I shifted it around.

"What are you doing?"

"Patience, Micklelas," I joked. "The thing is going to be pressed against me for hours. I'm trying to introduce myself as a proper lady would! "

He laughed out loud. "We're almost on. Save your heat for the stage! "

I laughed and punched his arm playfully. I leaned to pick up his guitar, another Gibson. "Hey Micky, I heard a rumor that you and I were going out. How did people get that idea? I'm with someone."

He grabbed his guitar quickly. I frowned, suspicious. He pulled his guitar away from me quickly. I pretended that I was going to lift my shirt to make him drop his guard. It worked. I snatched up his guitar in a flash and turned it over. My mouth hit the floor.

He had a sticker on it that said "I'm doing the guitarist," and it had an arrow pointing my way.

"Damn you, Micky! I could lose my boyfriend! He may not think it's a joke! "

"I'm sorry. I promise not to flip my guitar over tonight."

"You had better not!" But then I chuckled. "Come on."

We heard a drum intro. I whispered to Micky as we ascended the stage,"one of these days I'm going to fall on my face in the dark! I'm a klutz!"

"Don't worry, someone will catch you, I'm sure."

I grinned smartly. When I was immersed in the music, I forgot my own name.
The experience was like nothing I can describe, well you know.

After the show, I mingled with the audience. I saw a girl crying in the far back of the club.

"Excuse me." I pushed my way through the crowd and approached her. I found her in a dark corner and put my hand gently on her shoulder. "Miss, what's wrong?"

She sniffled,"I got into a fight with my husband."

"Oh, is he here?" I was looking around.

"Yes."

"What's your name?"

"Wendy."

"Wendy, do you want to talk?"

"What, with you?"

I looked down, "I'm sorry, I have no right to interfere but I couldn't help it. I saw you and..."

"He told me I was fat."

"What?" I said, with irritation. "Point him out."

She did. I approached him. When he saw me, he stood up straighter and looked to both sides. Then he pointed to himself.

"Me?" I nodded, took him by the arm and pulled him aside. He was grinning widely.

"What are you doing?"

"Hopefully going with you."

I clenched my jaw and mentally counted to five. "What I mean sir, is what are you doing mistreating your gorgeous wife? "

He frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Wendy, damn it! Look at her! She's obviously in love with you!"

"No, I don't think so."

"I can tell. She is. That's why it hurt so much when you called her fat."

"She is a little heavy."

"I am trying to be nice. Go over and apologize to her or I am going to help her lose weight, dress her in vinyl then take her on the town to meet men."

His eyes grew dark.

"Well?"

"I just visualized Wendy that way. I don't want other men looking at her! You're right, she is gorgeous. "

"Only a blind man would miss that. She's gorgeous as she is now, right now."

He sighed. "Yes, yes. You are right. Thank you." He went over to Wendy
and her face lit up. I stared at them until he kissed her.

A crowd was pushing toward me. Micky and the others in the band ushered me out. We had promised another slightly younger band that they could use all of our equipment tonight for their debut if they promised to pack it all up.

Micky pulled me into the street. He stared at me under a streetlight.

"What are you looking at Mick?"

"L, you are strange."

I scoffed. "You just noticed that?"

"You are so far from ordinary."

I smirked. "Okay, Micky, now you border on insulting me. I know, I know, I'm a weirdo. "

"Marry me, L."

I stepped back and looked at him, stricken. I turned around and darted. It started to sprinkle. I ran and ran and ran. Now I was in a bad part of town. I walked into a coffee house somewhere around 2 am, drenched, my black bra showing through my white tank top, my leather pants clinging to me. Good that these wet things could not come of off me. That kept me relatively safe.

"Good God," I heard a man say as I entered the café.

His angry wife called me a harlot. She told me that I needed to find God. I gave her a passionately sad look, bent on one knee and made the sign of the cross.

"I love God with all of my heart." Everyone in the place was staring at me.

"You don't look it!"

I studied her for a moment. "All the best to you ma'am. Christians come in all shapes and sizes. If it were a one size fits all, there wouldn't be enough of us by a long shot. We are all so different. I am free. I celebrate who I am. I rejoice in the way God made me, and I praise him for it."

"You are a blasphemer!"

I shook my head sadly and sat down. I ran my fingers through my long wet hair. I muttered a silent prayer. I felt warmth and comfort. I heard the rumble of my mustang outside and glanced through the window. Tristan, the bassist in my band approached. I waved him over. He tossed the keys on the table.

"Thanks Tristan."

"What are friends for? I have been searching for you! This was the third café I've been to. I have a gift for you."

"Oh? What is it?" I breathed out.

He pulled two books out of a bag. "You have inspired me L. I want you to see something and remember a very important point. "

I was intrigued. He put the two books on the table. One had a nice, somewhat flashy cover. The other had a paper bag on it. "Which one would you want, L?"

"I don't know. What's inside of them?"

He grinned. "That kind of thing has always been important to you. "

"Thanks, Trist. The one with the silver cover is beautiful. It couldn't possibly be the right choice, could it? The better book?"

"Why would you say that? Does something have to be plain on the outside if it's beautiful on the inside? Ever hear of celebrating what you are inside?"

"What's in between the covers of the plain one?"

"Well, not all plain-covered books are like this one. Some are absolutely wonderful and have so much to say. But not this one. This one is... "

I opened it. It was a picture of a judge pointing forward.

"L, this one has nothing of value to say. This one has the purpose of bringing others down. The plain cover does not give it righteousness does it? "

I smiled sadly. "No. What's in the sparkly one? "

"Well, some books with sparkly covers have nothing of value within. Some are frivolous. Then there is a third kind of book, like this one. It has great things to say and the cover has lead many, many people to pick it up and take a look. This is a book that has touched the lives of many intrigued people. They have been drawn to it, opened it and have become comforted by it's words of wisdom."

I was deeply curious. I opened it up and sighed.

He touched my arm. "L, make a difference in any way you can. Don't change who you are just to put people in their comfort zone for the three and a half minutes that they cross your path. This is your life and you have a right to enjoy who you are. You have a right to draw people near you."

"I alienate some."

"Not the ones who actually talk to you. We are all here to learn and teach others. "

"I don't know what I can teach anybody. People look at me and judge me."

"When you leave this planet, L, there will be a few less judges."