Santa Fe is legendary as a magical, mysterious mecca for those who can afford it and wish to breathe clean air, meditate, and get away from it all in style.  To feed the legend, we know that Carol Burnett, Jane Fonda, Ali McGraw and Shirley McClain are resident believers. But on my first visit anywhere to discuss my new book, Silver Platter Girl, I found that Santa Fe is home to many powerful, caring women that you have never heard of.  Until now.

My host was Alicia, aka Red, aka Bad Red.  A vibrant redheaded pistol, Alicia picked up one day and left the heat and congestion of Phoenix to settle in Santa Fe.  She didn't know a soul there at the time.  She chose a home within walking distance of the famous Plaza so she would be close to whatever goes on there.  I knew she would find whatever she was looking for quickly.  She is persistent, charismatic, determined and very hard to say no to.  Before long, she was volunteering her time at the highly regarded Santa Fe Rape Crisis and Trauma Treatment Center.  She now serves as Vice President of the Board.  It was our first stop after my arrival.  A lovely building with deep colored walls and a stand of young, dancing aspen trees lining the entry walkway, its peaceful presence and powerful energy belie the nature of the work that goes on there.  It is humbling to think of the stories that are disclosed within the walls of this beautiful, quiet structure.  But hopeful to imagine the healing that takes place there.   Their youngest client was just 18 months old.  

The next day, we visited Origins, a women's clothing store just off the Plaza, every inch of  floor space packed  with elegant clothing, jewelry and purses designed by a variety of artists.  Judy, the owner, made a magnificent entrance from the back of the store when our arrival was announced, dressed head to toe in various treasures from her shop.  With energy as big as a mountain, she looked at me intently as we were introduced before opening her arms and gathering me in for a hug that I imagined would cure me of most anything if only I could stay in her embrace long enough.  We took a very short walk just around the corner down a small side street to the Paris Cafe for lunch.  The waiter was describing the day's special, a Cornish game hen with fresh vegetables,.  Judy pointed to the chef sitting outdoors at a small table who was eating the hen with great relish, a good advertisement for the dish.  But Judy was visibly agitated and couldn't decide on her choice.  We asked for more time.  She then spoke of the amazing French pastry that came out of their kitchen continually during the day and got up to see what was in the case.  The tension left her body as she returned to the table to announce that she had made her decision, naming something she saw in the case in French with a perfect accent, leaving me ashamed that after 8 years of study of the language, I didn't know the word.  I felt better when the waiter didn't seem to recognize the word either, having to confirm her choice in English.  Judy announced that, yes, she would have the apple pastry for lunch because the apples melted in your mouth.  She was right, they did, as we discovered when she insisted that we have the first two bites.  Over lunch, she told us stories of her travels all over the world seeking healing from a persistent pain she felt.  At age 16, she announced to her family that she had earned enough money to go to South America for the summer and despite the horrified protestation of her parents, did just that.  She spent time in India, learned the ways of  the Native American community, and studied with various healers who later would become known all over the world for their ground breaking ideas.  She told us she would be returning to India soon, a place where she feels spiritually at home.  She wore various pieces of jewelry that had their own energy, especially the engraved silver drop earrings with the beautiful deep opal stones that completely captivated me.  We had given her a copy of the book and she left it there on the table next to her, often picking it up and running her hands over the cover with a smile.  She couldn't wait to read it, she said.  I had no idea yet why Judy and I were brought together but as a matter of simple faith, I knew she was someone I needed to know, and someone in whose strong hands I wanted my book.   After lunch, I got two more hugs from Judy, the powerful queen of light.  

Then it was just a few steps across the narrow street to Collected Works, the best bookstore in Santa Fe according to Alicia.  She asked for Mary, but the gentle fellow at the desk said she wasn't in today.  When Red told him she was expecting us, he admitted that maybe she was in after all.  While we waited, we walked down the long narrow rows of shelves packed tight with books and more books.  Then Mary burst out of the back, dressed in brown pants, a black shirt, comfortable shoes with no make-up and hair pulled back low in a rubber band, a testament to her grounded self-confidence.  She looked at me intently when introduced, shook my hand and told me it was an honor to have me there and how much she enjoyed my book.  Then Mary did what she does best.  She talked, and talked, and every word that came out of her mouth was interesting.  She asked if we wanted to see where the store would be moving soon so we walked about two blocks, the longest trek so far in our Santa Fe afternoon.  We arrived at a corner space where a furniture store used to be.  At least four times as large as her original location, it features spacious rooms and spectacular arched windows on both sides.  The plumbers were busy at work and asked if they could have a moment but didn't mean to interrupt.  She told them that she was always talking so the only way they could ask their question was to interrupt so by all means, ask away.  She showed us where the coffee bar will be along with a nice covered outdoor seating area.  There is a huge fireplace in the main room with a set of antlers above.  She said she was almost sorry that the landlord left the antlers because she had recently seen a mounted Texas longhorn that included not just the head but the whole neck as well and it would have jutted way out into the room.  Wouldn't that have been something, Mary said.  She noted that this would be the perfect place for their book signings and said it would be where we could have mine.  It should benefit the Santa Fe Rape Crisis Center, she said, describing it as one of the most forward thinking and progressive centers of its kind in the country.  So off we went back to the store to discuss dates.  Sitting in her cluttered office filled with books, we talked about open dates in July and visited with her Yorkie, a six pound bundle of adorable activity who showed off his amazing ability to get into her travel bag, get zipped up and completely disappear for clandestine air travel.  Mary modestly spoke, only when asked, about her former life working on the executive floor of Apple, having sold them a video application she designed that became a part of their Final Cut Pro editing product.  When her mother become ill in Santa Fe, Mary rushed to her side and never left.  She has been living and working there ever since.  Towards the end of our fascinating visit, Mary said I must be sure to write my second book, predicting significant success for Silver Platter Girl.  Some first time authors never do, she warned, but I definitely should.  Coming from the fantastically bright Mary, I considered this deep encouragement.  She spoke with quiet confidence and an almost motherly tone.  Be sure to wash your hands, always say please and thank you, and don't forget to write that next book.  I paid close attention and dared to believe in her confidence in me.  

A local coffee house where we met  with Barbara on the way to the airport the next day was barely large enough to contain this earthy, grand woman with a heart and voice as big as the Santa Fe blue sky.  Her reputation as a tough, strong and passionate advocate for the Santa Fe Rape Crisis and Trauma Treatement Center, where she had served as Executive Director for 18 years prior to her recent retirement, preceeded her.  It was no surprise that she had requested the largest pup of the litter when choosing her new giant Schnauzer.  She spoke of him and his huge size and boundless energy with feigned disapproval and total delight.  We brought a copy of the book for her to read and she accepted it enthusiastically, clutching it to her chest with both arms.  I sat right next to her and wanted to lean in closer and closer to make sure I got the most benefit from the safe, comforting aura that surrounded her.  She referred to sexual abuse as a pandemic, a subject so complex and unfortunately distasteful to so many, that very little progress was being made in its treatment and education.  She said it was like a laser that cut across social lines and boundaries of all types but was rarely acknowledged for the devastating social problem it is.   She commented that I had a healthy glow and amazingly seemed to somehow have made myself whole, an accomplishment with my background.  I looked like a woman who could laugh, sing and dance, said Barbara.  She asked about my story and I told her.  She seemed very excited about a book that honestly delved into this difficult subject and its powerful ramifications, including the blatant mind body connection that was such a key part of my experience.  She loved that it was hopeful and showed that healing was possible.  She immediately began to conceive of an event that would include seminars with health care professionals and community leaders as a fund raiser for the Center, using the book as a centerpiece to stimulate understanding and healthy dialogue.  She would begin reading right away, she said, and only wished that the last hour which seemed to go by in 5 mintues time could have been much longer.  She was hungry for more.  We planned for a follow up meeting where we could take the time to talk as long as we wanted while I was secretly delighted to have an excuse to return to Santa Fe.  I knew right away that she would help me continue to understand my own story and how to make it meaningful to others.  It left me wondering how my life would have turned out if a Barbara had been available to me.  Of course, there is only one Barbara.  And now I had found her.  Everything is as it should be, as always.

And so I left the women of Santa Fe behind to their wonderful work and their meaningful lives.  Having so much dragonfly in me, I felt I could have flown home without the plane after absorbing their tremendous energy but knew that there was too much work to be done to fly away just yet.  They say that Santa Fe decides for itself who belongs there and who doesn't.  It isn't clear to me what the criteria is but everyone seems to acknowledge that the town lets you know if it just isn't the place for you.  But Alicia, Judy, Mary and Barbara are daughters of Santa Fe, adopted and loved and nurtured by their environment.  They take care of themselves, each other, and many others they don't even know with their generous spirits and big hearts.  I feel so fortunate to have been included through my own work and know that there couldn't be a safer or more healing place to begin sharing of my story.  I am becoming aware of the profound benefits of "telling", thanks to a place called Santa Fe, that hopefully will one day decide that I, too, belong there.  A place to laugh and sing and dance.

SPG