Laura entered the Bellaire Senior Center for her weekly seated yoga class. She planned to focus on balance today, helping her students develop increased awareness of their body's position in space. Initially, she would use the chairs for support to focus while seated, and then, if members chose to stand, she would use the chairs to further their balance practice safely.

Members called out their greetings, and Laura conducted the class with quiet confidence and attention. She ended the session with gentle breathing techniques, followed by savasana and a restorative meditation.

As the breathing techniques concluded, Shirley reminded Laura of the group’s desire to hear more about how she met her husband. 

For a moment, Laura was reminded of her early days in New Mexico.  She remembered feeling overwhelmed at the prospect of meeting so many people and adjusting to a desert environment after her young life in the temperate green and blue rolling hills of Virginia. While she had been determined to begin a life on her own terms, learning challenging new subjects, she missed the early days of cozy family dinners with her parents and brother, Aaron. She recalled the safe and comfortable school days in which she was considered a bright and promising student. It had been a sheltered, secure life. In the vastly new desert setting as a young adult, she was no longer known as Dr. Marsh’s daughter. She was a stranger there.

Laura quickly came back to present.

It’s good to see you all today,” Laura said as the class members moved to the center’s kitchenette for coffee and pastries, provided today by Iona, the quiet, impeccably dressed, retired teacher, wearing yet another matched pastel knit pantsuit. Laura noticed the smell of vanilla with a hint of cinnamon, and the gooey richness of the iced sweet rolls on the pretty flowered tray stacked with brightly colored napkins. Members echoed her cheerful thoughts about treats as they gathered around the long table. Lorraine and Peggy began to serve coffee as they thanked Iona for her pastries.

Iona responded, “I thought I would provide a tasty food treat while Laura provides us with a tasty story about her history.”

“Well done. We’re certainly looking forward to it,” Eugene said, as he settled his long, thin body in a folding chair.  

“You’re right, we’re all ears, and so delighted that you agree to teach us and share your life story with us, Laura,” Peggy smiled, bobbing her cherry-red earring dangles.

There was an affirmative murmur from the members, which included an additional person this week, Bill Shaffer, a friend of Eugene. The sweet rolls made their rounds as group members got comfortable.

Settling into the coffee break, Laura smiled and asked, “Do you still want to know about how I met my husband, Sam?”

Shirley smiled and laughed her hearty laugh, “You know it!”

Laura began yet another episode of her life. “I applied to and arranged to attend a holistic health program in Santa Fe, New Mexico. My support contact, Mary Lynn, at New Mexico Academy of Healing Arts, wanted to introduce me to the Santa Fe Artist Collective, where a successful young painter mentored young artists in the area. I remembered being excited about learning new art techniques, becoming familiar with the palette of the southwest, and learning some of the designs and techniques of the indigenous people there.

I made an appointment at the artist collective, and when I walked into the well-lighted studio, I was stunned by the numerous vivid paintings displayed on easels and leaning against the walls. Their grand size and brilliant hues were amazing.

Although the paintings were extraordinary, the vision in front of me electrified my body from my eyes to my toes. My reaction was surprising to me. I was astounded by the tall, muscular torso and arms of a man with long, shiny, dark hair, pulled back in a rawhide lace, with tanned skin, intense dark green eyes, and a deep, rich voice, earnestly explaining to an admiring student how the use of shadow would add more dramatic effect to her work.

My eyes were wide, my breath halted, and I was stupefied as I drank in the sheer masculine appeal of this person, as if parched by the surrounding desert. As I stared, there was a huge crash as I banged into an easel holding a large painting, which toppled to the floor.

'What the hell?!' the dark-haired god yelled as he suddenly turned, rushing towards me.

My teeth clenched as I tried to stop my lips from trembling. My eyes squinted at the tears forming from the shock and horror of making a spectacle of myself, not to mention the real possibility of having damaged a valuable painting. I found it hard to breathe as I tried to squat down and, with shaking hands, retrieve the massive, heavily framed painting with a side of the frame detached and askew.”

Laura’s yoga class members were raptly leaning forward on their elbows, waiting to hear what came next.

“'I’m so sorry,' I cried. I had never cried in public to my recollection except at my brother’s funeral.

I felt a warm, large arm around my shoulders. 'Please, miss, it’s okay.'

As I looked into his worried dark green eyes, gazing into my teary ones, his eyes began to twinkle. With a mischievous grin, Sam Devane, successful artist and art mentor, said, 'That was one of my worst paintings … honestly. I was going to recycle it anyway.'

He stood and helped me to stand, simply letting the painting fall to the floor. 

After a pause, 'Hi, I’m Sam Devane, and you must be Laura Marsh, my new art student. You make a hell of an entrance, Laura Marsh!' With that, he handed me a well-worn handkerchief from his rear pocket to dry my eyes."

The yoga students laughed, and Eugene yelled, “Well played!”

Shirley fanned her face dramatically, saying, “He must have been quite a hunk!”

Laura continued, “He was. I was in awe of him for quite some time. There was a big age difference (ten years), and his status in the community, his talent, and his confidence and experience tapped into my insecurity at the time.  When I described him to my parents over the phone, they were concerned that there was too much difference in age and maturity. 

Over the next few months, we worked together as I absorbed as much new information and skill in my complementary health studies as I could. We traveled to various communities and scenic areas to paint, using a variety of techniques and media, and talked with local artisans about their artwork and traditional designs. I felt like a sponge absorbing as much new material as I could.

One day, I was surprised when Sam invited me to meet a close friend, Cal, a writer and popular tai chi teacher. Sam said he thought that with my energy and holistic medicine practices, tai chi would be a perfect complement to my studies. He jokingly added he thought the practice would improve my focus and body awareness, curtailing my tendency for any more highly dramatic entrances to new situations. Still embarrassed remembering the entrance he referred to, after meeting Cal and his wife, I firmly agreed that tai chi would be my next undertaking.

As we drove back into town, to my small apartment, Sam stopped his ancient Volvo and led me to a scenic sandstone formation with a distant view of the dramatic mountains. He turned to me and warmly held both of my hands in his. Unlike him, Sam appeared to be tense, shoulders raised and jaw tight. 'Laura, I hope you’ve noticed I find you delightful. You are beautiful, talented, and kind, and I want to spend more time with you and get to know you better. If I’m honest. I want to live with you, love you, and have babies with you.' He grinned warmly at me, and I felt myself acknowledge I’d fallen in love with this bigger than life man I’d been spending time with."

As Laura remembered that tender moment, her eyes teared and her throat constricted. She took a few breaths before she could speak again. “In six months, we had a simple outdoor wedding, with local friends and neighbors. Sam’s parents had a farm in Iowa and couldn’t leave their animals. My parents came to meet Sam and celebrate with us. I was delighted that each of them came to me separately and disclosed their belief that he was a good life partner for me.”

There was a brief silence as group members nodded and smiled.

“What a nice story, Laura. Thank you for sharing it with us,” Lorraine said as she lightly touched Laura’s arm. 

The group applauded and assured Laura they wanted to know more about her life and work in New Mexico.

“Next week, folks!”  And Laura, lost in tender memories of Sam, left the center. As she entered her colorful van, she considered how colliding with Sam in Sante Fe set in motion her collision with herself, activating all the talented, silly, and awkward aspects of herself she didn’t yet recognize. Finding that Sam cherished all of those, gave her incentive to examine and embrace them too.

Updates

Calli’s Friend, Stella

My 17-pound fuzzy gray sweetie has a special 120-pound fuzzy gray friend around the corner. Calli, my bouncy, anxious little buddy has found a friend in the gray shadow, Stella, who moves so slowly and quietly it’s often difficult to see her on a cloudy day unless you notice her taking one step at a time. As her owner reports, she’s afraid of bunnies and chipmunks, but she will very quietly and tentatively approach Calli when we walk by, if her owner is close by to protect her from the possible “boogers,” lurking just out of sight. Once she approaches, she likes to stay and have her back rubbed. It’s easy, as her back readily touches my hand without reaching on my part. Her snout can touch Calli who is in awe of her size and does not dart around her, causing her distress.  What a special moment to see these two carefully consider one another in a friendly manner without being overly aggressive or inconsiderate. Society could learn important lessons from them.

Stella is a Great Dane, and the breed is known for its friendly demeanor and ease of living in a family. While I have read that Great Danes love exercise, I have also heard personal stories and observed that this is not always the case, as they often are laid back and love to relax. A downside to the large breed is that they don’t typically enjoy very long lifespans. That provides a good reason to give them all the love and attention that’s possible to give them in the brief length of their lives.

Take good care, my friends,

Suanne