To find fellowship—isn’t that what we all want? Fellowship with our family, friends, neighbors, as well as with our larger social circle can provide a sense of belonging as well as a buffer zone to who or what might lurk out there.

            In the fall of 2003, after we lost everything in the Cedar Fire, we went to a meeting held in a dirt lot in Fernbrook. Our district’s County Supervisor, Dianne Jacob, was there to take note of the types of services we might be in need of. But beyond that, I felt such an overwhelming sense of fellowship with everyone there. We now all shared a commonality with each other. And that alone was a strong and palpable bond, even if we didn’t know everybody.

            But fellowship can encompass an infinite range of circumstances. I can take a walk up the mountain, look toward the sky, and sometimes feel bowled over from the connection I feel with the beautiful clouds dancing in the breeze. Sort of “being one with them.” Or if a squirrel is on the boulder just outside my bedroom window, looking in at me, and at the same moment I happen to glance out, this also provides a kind of connection. I smile and say, “Hi.”

            And then there are those training sessions through work or other organizations during which we’re sectioned into groups to practice together or perhaps to compete against the other groups. Then we are in a state of amity with each other. Sort of like, “We’re in this together.” Sports and tribal groups can fall into this category. It’s helpful to recognize that our involvement in these situations can lead to herd attitudes.

            But fellowship can also occur spontaneously like when we’re standing in the checkout line at the grocery store and engage with someone else—either a nod, a laugh, or just a few words exchanged. This alone can sometimes make my day and lift my mood for longer than you’d think.

            Just the other night we had a potluck dinner with a couple who are close, longtime friends. Anyway, as life happens it had been a number of years since the four of us got together to share a meal. Yes, far too long. But it’s so rewarding to have friends like this that we can feel like we can pick up where we’d left off no matter how long it’s been. Time doesn’t always have to feel linear.

So, where do you find fellowship? Today, I’m hanging out with my dog, Zelda. We started out with a walk down the dirt road, then later she kept me company while I took a sunbath (collecting vitamin D). Now she’s lying at my feet outside as I write this. A quiet camaraderie on a Sunday afternoon. We both know the other is there, and there’s a comfort in that.

Chi Varnado has published six books including fiction, nonfiction and children’s books. They are available on www.amazon.com. Her collection of essays, Quail Mutterings, can be found on www.chivarnado.com or www.dancecentrepresents.com.

She is available to adults and children for fun tutoring in writing. Her Outdoor Writers group is meeting from 10:00 to 11:00 AM at Dos Picos Park by the pond on Saturdays July 5 and 19. If interested just show up with a $10 cash donation and paper and pen (or laptop) to follow your creative muse.

           What does it mean to “fall from grace”? I suppose it depends on how you define ‘grace’, as it can have multiple meanings. It can simply refer to a pleasing or favorable quality; or to God’s love; to elegance of movement; a prayer before a meal; a period of time granted to fulfill an obligation… So you see, there are many ways to fall from grace.

            Losing status, respect, or prestige injures our egos. Losing a job, a relationship, an important contract, or failing a test can leave us crushed and feeling sorry for ourselves, but this can pass if we allow it. I think that can be the hard part. We tend to get stuck in how we feel about something, then find it difficult to let it go (as Elsa sings) and move on to more positive thoughts and feelings. After all, our thoughts really do dictate our feelings. It’s all up to us to rise from within. Nobody else can do it for us—each one of us has to take on the work. I realize for some this can be harder than for others, but the same still holds true.

            I suppose I fell from grace after dissolving my Dance Centre, ending thirty-seven years of teaching ballet and gymnastics. As I age, my once graceful body and limbs feel less and less so. It’s quite humbling, but I’m continually trying to make peace with it. And I guess another time I fell from grace was when I decided to major in Dance at SDSU instead of math or science like my parents expected. The result being that I had to fund most of college myself. But probably the worst kind of descent is when we disappoint ourselves and know that we haven’t done our best.

            The times I went against my better judgement and did something that someone else assured me was fine, left me kicking myself for not trusting or not following my own intuition. Like when my husband assured me that the snake right outside the door was a rattler, so the poor gopher snake died needlessly. Or when he convinced me that his ‘hairbrained’ route somewhere ended up making us over two hours late. Poor guy, I’ll try not to pick on him. Sometimes it can be uncomfortable to not go along with someone else’s idea, but important to do so anyway. Better to stop and think before reacting, then there’ll be less to feel guilty about.

            Holding grudges is another one of those things. They don’t do us any good. They often don’t make any difference to the other person. Therefore, the only one they have any real effect on is ourselves. It brings our energy down and we fall from grace—over and over and over again. Every time we think about it.

            In a lot of ways, animals can be light years ahead of us, at least in the way some of them handle their outward emotions. I remember when my mom was nearing the end of her life and confined to her bed. Referring to her dogs, she often commented how much better they were at being in the present moment. “They’re so accepting of whatever is.” She was wishing she could be more like that and not have such fear. Don’t we all?   

            To me, it seems that living with grace goes hand-in-hand with being grateful—all the time. It elevates the mood and makes us and those around us smile. I’m trying to hold this in mind as much as I can, especially when things happening around me make that difficult. Stop, take a deep breath, remember the things I have to be grateful for, and elevate myself above whatever situation is pulling me down. Anyway, that’s what I’m striving for. Does anyone want to join in?

Chi Varnado has published six books including fiction, nonfiction and children’s books. They are available on www.amazon.com. Her collection of essays, Quail Mutterings, can be found on www.chivarnado.com or www.dancecentrepresents.com. She is available to adults and children for fun tutoring in writing. 

           Does it seem to anyone else that rats and mice are everywhere now? In our sheds, garages, under car hoods, inside our vehicles, and yes—in our house. I suppose it’s not that surprising considering we live out in the country. A while back I started to move a bird house fastened to the top of a 4×4 beam. Upon tipping it I let out a shriek even though I’m far less squeamish than most. A tumble of young hairless rats fell out onto my chest and grossed me out, more than a little. Not what I was expecting at all. 

            Cute little mice often join us when we watch Netflix in the evenings. They scurry over the mantle and around the rock hearth, sometimes pausing to stare at us. “What?” I ask. I feel bad, but occasionally we do catch them in traps. However, mostly they just keep outsmarting us. After all, we are a relatively young species compared to them.

            I remember many decades ago, when my sister still lived in the canyon. She’d set live traps and then release the rats down at the end of the dirt road on her way to work. Later, when I drove out to take kids to school, I’d often see them running back up the road—heading to home sweet home. Those ridiculous, yet hilarious sightings happened multiple times.

            Some people keep rats for pets. We had an albino one when we were kids. And a guinea pig, chickens, ducks, finches, a goose, rabbits, donkeys, pigs, a cow, goats, horses… Our family consisted of a menagerie of species. I suppose it was part of our training to be more inclusive.

            Kent just came back inside after digging trenches along the side of our dirt road in the pouring rain. He looks like a drowned rat. Zelda helped, but the wet dog is out on the porch—for now. I’m sure all the rats and mice are finding nice cozy places to hunker down, chew wires, and make messes in what we’d like to claim as our own. So much for that concept.

            But there’s another kind of rat. A very dirty one indeed. This one is a neighbor who is actually a pack rat. His entire yard is filled with stuff—a total junkyard. The once beautiful piece of property has become a complete eyesore and environmental disaster. I think y’all could definitely smell a rat there. How do you rat on someone like that? Some things really can make my blood boil. But enough on that.

And then there are those desert rats who come up with some interesting shenanigans to pass the time. Like shining a laser beam at the mountain behind the campground or designing weird experiments in the sand behind buildings or— At least they’ve managed to remove themselves from the rat race, both mentally and physically. A real win for them.

            Pitter patter, what’s the matter? Is it Town Mouse or Country Mouse? I’m pretty sure ours are country mice. But if they fall out of the car when I’m in town—well…?  

Rats, I almost forgot. Spring is almost here! I know, even with the spring equinox, the weather can still be wet and chilly. But on this special day the sun shines directly on Earth’s equator, creating nearly equal amounts of daylight and darkness. Now that’s something to celebrate. Bring out the drums! Have a dance party and live it up good. I think that’s what we ought to do. Enough belly aching about the rats in our lives!

Chi Varnado has published six books including fiction, nonfiction and children’s books. They are available on www.amazon.com. Her collection of essays, Quail Mutterings, can be found on www.chivarnado.com or www.dancecentrepresents.com.