“Always stand in your truth to know your power” her Mom repeated for the tenth time that month.

Karissa envisioned herself standing on a platform dressed as Tinkerbell in the middle of Faery Forest and holding up one hand to her Mom in Vulcan salute before mouthing the words “May the force be with you” before disappearing into the twilight sky.

Karissa was twenty-one and knew her Mom hated Star Trek and Star Wars plus she’d just returned from volunteer duty at Girl Scout camp the week prior and was still reeling from the effects of a historical Halley’s Comet sighting.  She hadn’t told anyone that the souls inside of the comet had imprinted a message inside of her brain at the precise moment she placed her eyes in the telescope.

Karissa couldn’t relay the mystery even if she wanted because it was not of her native tongue.  Relaying the correct message was a challenge even before Halley’s Comet and her mother’s frustrations with her versions of truth.

Her never-ending discontent usually blew her mother’s mind in its tempestuous arrays and because her Mom tended to shield herself from all weather except that which was fair she believed that Karissa needed to be tempered like the eggs that meander their way into nog before being overtaken by rum and carefully packaged cheer.  

Mom didn’t recognize truth unless it came with a 90 proof label and ideations of power fed by convincing the crowd that the contents of the glass she held came from the River Jordan and not from Absolut denial. 

Karissa prayed her mother might one day understand that truth didn’t have to die in a sea salted with clear liquor, strapped upon her back and crossed like an angry river without room for overburdened closets and oars.

More than this she wished to find her along the roads she was paving that led to the Promised Land because her truth did not have the luxury to stand still when power could be found only in its movement.