There was some twitching in discomfort at the Mandolin Café Summer Solstice celebration last night when Chiara, our goddess moderator of the evening, told us we’d be holding strangers’ hands and looking deeply into their eyes, being present. For 30 seconds!

It’s wedding season for Chiara, and the time of the honey moon, that golden summer celestial body, for the earth (hence, honeymoon time.)  Handfasting being one of the rituals that is, yes, associated with weddings, is also appropriate in this time of disconnection from humanity, as we sit on the Internet and drive in our cars and our only connection is the occasional text message.
So Chiara’s point, to get us to leave the café friends, through a physical, personal connection, was welcome, though I’ll admit to being one of the most visible twitchers present (but a 20-ounce latte will do that to you, I guess).

At the end of it all, I walked away feeling... lighter.  There was something about Chiara’s message to slow down, go with the rhythms of the earth, and celestial bodies that gave me permission to let go of some of the rapid-rabbit running I’ve been doing lately.

And there was something about being present with strangers, reaching out and touching them without the fear of being decked, that made me feel connected, even more than the festival-going, interviewing, hanging out with others that I’ve been doing.

There was also something in the music, as well as connecting with friends, that made the evening that much more worthwhile. I ran into John from high school, and his three kids and sweet (and lovely!) wife, who was there supporting her co-worker who was playing with the jazz band  Near the Beat jazz trio who entertained us as, and after we supped. They did a wicked cool "Ruby Tuesday" cover!)

I ran into Sonja and her lovely friends Lisa from Russell days, who helped Calla come up with the name “heel!” for that now-closed mecca of fabulousness in downtown Tacoma, as well as her friend Paige who runs the most intriguing-sounding outside exercise program, ever.

Running into former pro tennis player Caroline, whose daughter my wee one had daycare with several years ago, made me catch her intoxicating and contagious wanderlust; her husband’s kind eye-lock was disconcerting at best, though his kind words hit me the same way, I suppose, that my words might have hit others.

Lastly, there was Chiara herself, resplendent in her floral headdress like many others of the staff at the Mandolin; Chiara, though, emanated a sense of warmth, love, and peace, just as she was surrounded by it.

Lovely evening, lovely people, lovely Solstice.

Namaste. â€" Jessica Corey-Butler