Tuesday, November 4, 2008

The KIVA


Remember back in the 70's when the Kiva was a big warehouse down on 11th, next to a dance hall, and other good stuff. The whole foods grocery if I visualize it right was in the back right hand corner. There were books, and wines, and things--kitchen things, homesteader things, bulk foods. There was an earth shoe shop in a little loft near the front door accessed by a ladder and not tall enough to stand upright in. Remember? And down along one side there were booths and tables and folks hung out there. We ran into friends. I was living down by Cottage Grove then, and would come in with my partner Wayne, and friends from our little "back to the land" farm we called Tanager. I was the only person in our friend group to have a baby one of those years--Day, born in 1974-- in our little home made house on Blue Mountain School Road made from the recycled boards of the old Cottage Grove Hardware Store. There was a bunch of us living there then, maybe a dozen. It was eventful and full of love, work, gardening, goats, and other forms of angst. When Day was born, being the baby of a big household he was a pretty popular item. Everyone wanted to hold him, a phrase was born--"Let me hold 'im", which came out "...hold eem" and then became a nick name for a while. I remember being in the Kiva one day after Day started toddling and he was loose running around. Across the room I heard a happy shout. "It's Eem! It's the Eem beam!" Our friend Michael Forster, Magic Michael had spotted his little darling.

One day not long ago, I saw a young mom with a little kid, blond hair long enough to blow in the wind, wearing a little jean jacket with the sleeves rolled up to let out his baby hands. They were stopped on a street corner she bent over him. I felt liked I'd looked in a mirror to the past. It made me cry for those old days of hope and friendship, before the fall. When a new baby was the hope of the world, our world, the one we were envisioning and building.

I guess what was lost, for a while, is how ongoing that task is. How it doesn't just happen by our hard work and then we get to live in it. It happens, and unhappens, and morphs, and changes, and succeeds, and fails, and births new fears,and new dreams. Some of us are still here, or here again, or left the planet for a while and will maybe be back.

Today, I called the Kiva with a special request, and guess what! Its still here, its still real, its still the heart of the downtown community, and the Kiva came through--the people came through. Because that's always all that can come through. The people. The love.

My friend Sherril Bower who is a clerk there shopped for my groceries for me--cuz I'm house bound--and my son Arlo, born a couple of years after "Eem", stopped by the store which is just blocks from his workplace, to bring me my groceries.

May the circle be unbroken. I'm just spilling over with good feeling right now.

Love to you all.

3 comments:

Kate Waterbury said...

Hey Kate, thank you for sharing another type of healing to go along with the healing you have done as a profession all your life: the healing of your honesty, vulnerability AND spirit. Such touching posts!
Love,
Madronna

Kate Waterbury said...

Madronna thank you for sending your comment to my email. I don't know why it didn't come here more easily. Your sweet note is important to me so I posted it here for you...wish it had your pic instead of mine ;-)
love, kate

Kate Waterbury said...

GRANDMA, I believe you have been doing very well trying to stay as healthy as possible. Keep up the good work and invite me over as soon as you possible can bear my thirteen years next.