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"Dizzy with the Fragrance of Lilacs"
I grew up in the rural Minnesota, moving to Phoenix, Arizona while still in high school. What a change and an eye-opener for a country farm girl! As the fast pace of city life swallowed me up, I realized that many of my values were different from those of my peers. My needs were simpler. I had close friends but often felt like I just didn't fit in.
I recalled my childhood when I disappeared into my own world of nature on the farm. I made castles in the woods out of leaves, branches, stones - whatever I could find in the forest and pastures. I played with the fairies, my dolls, my cat, and make-believe friends, who were very real to me. I danced with a whirlwind of leaves and floating, white, wisps of dandelion puffs. I felt like I was one with nature and all her gifts.
I had a secret room in the center of a maze of lilac bushes where I drew pictures and wrote stories that only I would read. I tied ribbons on branches and propped my special treasures into bunches of leaves, making this my inner sanctuary. The smell of lilac perfume made me dizzy. I spent hours by myself, but was never really alone.
Traveling from childhood through teenage years into adulthood, I often wondered where I should be or what I should be doing with my life. I sensed there was something meaningful waiting for me, something I was meant to do.
I settled in with a family of my own and as my three beautiful daughters grew I told them, "you are only limited by yourself." I finally decided to listen to my own advice and took a long look at my own life. I made a list of what I liked and disliked about it and it was clear I was not living the life of my spirit. I'd limited myself. I'd put my creativity in a glass jar. I could see the outside, but could not breathe fresh air or touch blossoming flowers that grew outside invisible walls.
I recalled my childhood when I often disregarded doing things "the right way." When I disappeared into my own world. I longed for that realm of innocence again. I could hear my inner child calling me. I knew I couldn't step back completely, I had wandered too far. But I felt a tug on my soul until finally I answered a resounding, "YES! The child is still in here!"
That's when I began to live from the inside out.
At 40-something, I began to listen, to honor my inner voice. I realized my soul's purpose was to be a messenger. I learned to follow my own drumbeat, dance my own dance. I discovered a road of adventure, cultural richness, intrigue and spirituality. My creative soul was freed as I realized my passion.
I began to travel the world and through my journeys experienced a common thread of unity that wove its way around the earth. Like an enormous human tapestry, it begged to be admired for its fine detail, and to be loved for its individuality. I learned to touch the earth, to feel its pulse, to smell the fiber of its roots. To respect the life and cultures of all lands.
My own spiritual center developed out of experiences with Aboriginal elders, Amazon shamans, rainforest bush doctors, nuns, Tibetan rinpoches, Buddhist monks, priests, nomads, visionaries, psychics and, most significantly, the simple genuine wisdom of other women.
I saw how people in other cultures survive and thrive. I felt the similarities and differences that unite women and grow them strong. I encountered shy smiles and hardy handshakes, long conversations and bold eyes that challenged mine.
I listened to women taught to be submissive to men because of religion or cultural standards. They shared how their spirits were longing, fighting to be free. How they worried for the future of their children, for the safety and security of their own lives.
I learned from women who were in positions of deep respect and power. They spoke their fears and hopes. They also worried for their children. I felt their frustration, their hope, their pain...and their strength.
The people I met and photographed, whose images you see on this website and in my "Tribe of Women" book, taught me to honor and respect the beliefs and disbeliefs, the differences and indifferences of other nations, other people, and of other women. They represent how important it is to honor and respect all sisters and brothers, all neighbors – every gender, color, culture, creed, being, and creature - and to celebrate and care for our earth.
Life depends on it.
As I journeyed I knew I had returned to the forest. I was again dancing in the whirlwind with the spirits of my youth. I had worked my way back to the inner maze of my childhood sanctuary...and was again dizzy with the fragrance of lilacs.
Dance with me through the photographs on this website, through my Yatra - my journey of life.
- Connie Bickman's "Destiny" photo w/camera age 3. (cbickman@frontiernet.net)
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