You know the feeling: the words leap up off the page and seize you with such force that you know you're never going to forget them.
Years ago, I was reading an article about German Expressionist painter Paula Modersohn-Becker (1876-1907).
“The only god worth worshiping is the Great Mother, Source of all Life,” she was quoted as saying.
(I should mention that I've since tried to track down this quotation, so far unsuccessfully; but since her words smote themselves into my heart at the time, I'm willing to trust my memory on this one.)
To look at her paintings, you could certainly believe that she would say such a thing. Her secular madonnas, many of them self-portraits, radiate a serene and luminous sanctity of their own.
***
The wand beeps over my breastbone. With a jerk of his head, the TSA guy indicates: Show.
By her chain, I pull the little silver goddess up out of my shirt.
“Who's that?” he asks, surprised.
(Interesting: not "what?" but "who?")
“The Great Mother, Source of All Life,” I tell him. Then I hear myself adding: “I have it on good authority that She's the only god worth worshiping.”
His brows crease, then he waves me on.
Yes, I may be a fanatic, it's true.
But Goddess-worshipers don't blow up planes.