The Beauty Catcher

 


The Beauty Catcher

I made a dream catcher in girl scout's camp once. We collected short sticks and wove yarn around them until a very simple and clear web had formed. I had chosen two colors: hot pink for the center with baby bird blue concentric squares surrounding it. Some kids dangled feathers from their dream catchers, but I didn't want them. They just seemed like too much. We also added a few beads here and there as our special touch. I don't remember how we wove them in, but I do remember how they sparkled as I held the dream catcher up to the sun.

I was fascinated by what I had created. I wonder what happened to it...I could sure use it now. I think I should make a new one.

Now I imagine myself approaching the world with my arms and legs wide. My heart is a pink center while baby blue emanates from my skin. I wait for my hands to finger silk, my ears to vibrate from a tantalizing interval, my eyes to absorb a fluctuation of color, my nose to tingle from a tangy odor, or my tongue to be surprised by pungency.

Two days locked up in a hospital is enough to become a beauty catcher again, to remember my dream catcher from long ago. It's the not having that brings us back to the having, that makes us so much more intent on the remembering...

If we could only see that we are always beauty catchers...


Text: Kristen Mastromarchi

Photo: "Native American Dream Catcher" by Image Catalog is marked with CC0 1.0.

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