The water, indeed, felt delicious. It happened so suddenly. Ohdonna kissed her. Then she kissed Ohdonna. They giggled. Ohdonna splashed her. Keara reached down to fill her hands with water. Ohdonna grabbed her and they both fell into the stream. “Oh no!“ They both realized with wet clothes they would be in trouble and at the same time, neither wanted to stop the play.
“Let’s kiss some more,” said Ohdonna, and before Keara had time to think it over, they were embracing with the full thrust of newly discovered hormone rushes. No schooling was ever going to compare to this. Keara, having forgotten everything she knew about life as a child was overcome with passion.
Bicycles, books, schools, parents, rules, time schedules, shoes, socks, all were washed away in the stream of new consciousness. Womanhood was born that day. Ohdonna suggested they take off their wet clothes and lay them in the sun to dry. They could crouch down behind the weeds and not be seen. It was the only choice.
They chose the best spot for comfort and safety and snuggled into each other. “Let’s always be friends,” said Keara.
“I don’t know if we can, Keara. I mean we are both girls and people might disapprove. I mean, you know, if we are more-than-friends. Keara could see the problem, but wanted it solved.
“We could form a club and have meetings. Creek Guardians. How about that? We would have to come here, get wet, check in on all the fish and creatures. Make sure everything is as it should be.”
Ohdonna laughed, “That’s a wonderful idea. We’ll do it. You can be president. We won’t have any other members. We will have meetings every Thursday after school. Right here. Deal?”
“Deal.”
And they kissed again as the sun dried their clothing and the shoes waited patiently, in no hurry to go anywhere at all.
The Keepsake
Keara opened the keepsake box she kept in her dresser. Letters from Ohdonna. Shoestrings. A bottle cap with the words “effervescent formula” on it. That is what the whole experience had been for her, the effervescent rising of her sensual capacity, the formula - privacy, time, resplendent nature - for great sex.
She and Ohdonna had kept their Creek Guardian club going for the entire year. They learned all about flow and feeling. They even pretended to be creatures of the creek, modeling their lovemaking one day after frogs and another after fish and sometimes pretending they knew how turtles would do it or crayfish or snails. This way, they told themselves, their club would be legitimate and their relationship would never become boring.
After thoroughly exploring creek critter sexuality, they became even more interested in biology and the environment. Ohdonna is now the head of the Coral Reef Restoration Society. They still chat and send photos online, but it is not the same as laying in the creek together.
In their second year, they knew more about creek life and girl life and kept sharing their latest information with each other. Eventually, they each discovered a growing interest in the males of their species. This, too, they shared. Yet, it could never be the same as that wonderful year of innocent explorations.
As Keara lay down by Roan, she wished that they could have all the loves they ever had, hold everyone dear, welcome all the kinds of sexuality that life had to offer. But, they were cautious now, having been through other relationships where emotions, as Roan said, got sticky. After Ohdonna got her job protecting the coral reef, Keara involved herself in numerous sexual liaisons. Some pleasant, some not.
She had tasted the nectar. Not everyone offered it. She would wait. She had learned that sexual love is a gift, not a practice. It has its own life, its own vitality. She spent the next nineteen years learning this. Doing yoga reminded her of Thursday afternoons with Ohdonna. The Fish pose. The Heron. The Bridge. And one called, camatkarasana, the Wild Thing, described as “the ecstatic unfolding of the enraptured heart.” She became determined to become limber and balanced enough to try this one for sure. That’s when she met Roan. He was teaching a class during the one time she was free.
Back at the Hill
The four monks were surveying the hill near the Shemaya river. They were made aware of the site by Saffi and Yaro’s ritual. As they looked through Time, they could see that the hill had been held sacred in many hearts for centuries. There seemed to be a balance of gentle wind, high elevation, water nearby and a good mix of wildlife and plants.
Kunchen suggested that it may need to be left as it is for awhile in order to generate the emotional shock, grief, anger and intention needed to elicit a strong desire for restoration by the human beings.
Chewa imagined prompting a group of her students to organize a pilgrimage to the area in order to practice specific rituals of preparation she had taught them.
Jampa said that his doves would be glad to communicate their idea to all of the local animals.
Kalden projected an image of the future temple onto the site for their approval.
Yes, they agreed, The Temple of Love must be built here. With this decision, they proceeded to engage in animated discussion of how to generate inspiration in the humans who would need to be involved, how to channel the resources needed, who to choose as leaders and guides for the many tasks ahead, and what to have for dinner.
They walked and chattered, here and there stopping to pray, sometimes dowsing to make sure they were on the right track, and by noon, they were exhausted and decided to attend a nearby yoga class for a mental rest.
The Class
Roan’s voice was confident and clear. His energy easily moved through the realms of life, thus it was easy for the four monks to find his class.
“Take a deep breath,” Roan said to his students. “Send it down through the soles of your feet. All the way into Mother Earth. Feel her nourishing energy rise back up into your body, traveling through every muscle..." he continued his meditation induction readying the class for stretches, yogic breathing and asanas.
Keara was fond of rituals to keep in shape and in good health. She preferred a life with routines she could trust to keep things in order at a basic level topped with a dollop of total sexual freedom to balance it out. She was not promiscuous. Her lovers were by no means random, but carefully chosen by the Higher Presence to suit her exact needs of the time.
She felt that she had the right of refusal of any such gift from the Divine, but was very pleased to be offered such a fine selection of lovers throughout her life thus far. Now, as she stretched and relaxed to the sound of Roan Vodin’s voice, she knew, he was a gift.
She began to come to class twice weekly and would have attended more often if she were not working at the Women’s Health Clinic, repainting her bedroom, cultivating exotic hoya plants and maintaining her daily meditation and journaling time.
Roan’s voice surfaced again in her consciousness and she relaxed deeply into the idea of invitation.
Tastes
The four monks enjoyed the respite of yoga, afterwards embarking on a stroll down Fourth Street to take in the smells of several ethnic restaurants. Kalden was drawn to the building with the limestone elephants out front which served Thai cosine. Chewa was in the mood for a simple sandwich. Kunchen suggested that an Indian dish of milk sauce and steamed green vegetables would perhaps soothe their emotions further after the earlier period of intense concentration and excitement. Jampa was distracted by the flight of starlings.
Eventually, they decided on ice cream, walked to the Chocolate Moo and indulged in cold, refreshing milk shakes. All were very happy after this and ready to return to the Great Land.
Meanwhile, Yaro and Saffi were busy cleaning fish and packing them in