“Wakan Tanka, Great Mystery,
teach me how to trust
my inner knowing,
the senses of my body,
the blessings of my spirit.
Teach me to trust these things
so that I may enter my Sacred Space
and love beyond my fear,
and thus Walk in Balance
with the passing of each glorious Sun.“
Yesterday was out of balance. Everything was off– our schedule, our health, our internet. I awoke to geese baulking as they flew down valley, enough racket to get me out of bed after just about 5 hour of sleep. I got up and wrote and, realizing 4 hours wouldn’t be enough for the day and no need to get up otherwise I went back to sleep.
I guess mistake number one. A core tenant of ayurveda and beauty sleep and sanity and all of it is get to bed early and keep a routine. I know this. My default setting is otherwise (as I write at midnight.) I’m going to work on it. Starting tomorrow.
I awoke later to two irritated pink eyes, and, at the risk of TMI, the rash I had in February is back (technically known as ringworm, bad name) pretty much just contagious everything on my itchy body. Not Feeling the pillar of strength, or like I am ever going to have another playdate after writing this… The weather stunk too; slushy, cloudy, nondescript. And the family remained spliced- some with new symptoms, some with none at all, some demanding distance and amnesty from household chores, with a little finger pointing on who started what and who is still contagious. The inmates are definitely running the asylum.
We all fumbled about doing our structureless thing–working, schooling calls and clean up, with blinking internet and then no connection at all. I was low energy and short of breath today, so I gave up on trying to accomplish anything and settled onto the couch-irritated eyes, tired, disconnected and discombobulated. Screw it. I put John Prine on my headphones and gazed at the fire, for about 2 hours, occasionally begging a passerby to add logs for me.
I stared at the distinguished Native pictured above. I admired the brushstrokes of the artist, Ira Yeagar, and reflected on the man with the wise eyes, and the fish, and Corona virus and snakes. I considered the traditions and depth of knowledge of the Native Americans, a people I’ve always been intrigued by. I thought of how much I loved the nickname my dad gave me one summer of Pocahontas because I pretty much lived in the woods behind our house.
I thought about fire, and it’s power, to transform, to light, to heat, to warm, to relax by. And I listened to John Prine, which I do a lot, but did today with extra reverence, learning he is in the hospital on a ventilator with Corona virus. I suspect he’ s in trouble, with neither age nor lung health on his side.
Today everything felt out of control. Corona feels out of control. The new norm is out of control. Out of balance, out of control, and uncertain. There’s no end in sight and there’s nothing I can do about it. I can’t even stress about the future because there’s not enough info to even speculate on anything.
So, I put my energy into the Native Americans, and on John Prine. It felt good to pay homage to music that has so often lifted me up and carried me through, and traditions that feel grounded and wise. I read some Lakota wisdom.
I pictured John Prine on the ventilator, how terrifying that is supposed to be. His wife has thanked all his friends and fans for pulling and praying for him and asked us to continue. So I did. Staring at the fire, I sent energy and strength, meditating on his words and positive, often humorous spin on life. I wondered if I could send that good energy he has created for so many of us, back his way. I wished him love, and happiness, I guess you say, I wished him all the best. I recited my metta meditation a few times.
May John be happy
May he be healthy
May he be holy
May he be safe
May he be peaceful, and at ease
It was good.
These intentionally spent hours brought beauty and pleasure to an otherwise extremely unsettled day. Ah, something in my control … choosing to spend time and energy in joy. I’m not going to go another day without practicing this.
Twenty-Sixth Meditation of the Twelfth Moon
“Earth Medicine — Ancestors’ Ways of Harmony for Many Moons”
by Jamie Sams
These were desperate times for the families of the hunting party that was lost in the blizzard. The Elders called on every member of the Tribe to pray for the safe delivery of those stranded in the snow.
Sacred words cut through the storm, sending strength to the hunters. The warmth of Great Mystery’s breath kept the men from freezing. Many of the stranded men had visions of Ancestor Spirits building fires around them, with invisible buffalo robes being placed over them to protect them from the bitter cold.
When the hunting party returned home, revealing the mystical experiences they had encountered in their hour of need, the Medicine Elders smiled. They knew the power of the sacred words, and the intent those words carried had reached beyond the physical restraints of reality.
An Elder nodded and said, “There is no limit to the partnership between humankind and the Great Mystery. Our faith and our intent, coupled with the Creator’s boundless grace, make any situation that seems impossible a challenge we can overcome.”