for my children

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Journal entry and photos from winter 08:

I’ve just pulled myself away from our family bed leaving the three most precious people in my life to their sweet dreams. Kai, you were showing me your valentine’s cards that you received today at school and we all agreed that homemade cards are always the best. Daddy then said he was sorry that he didn’t get me anything today, and you began to cry because you didn’t get me anything either. But those sweet tears of your thoughtfulness were the best gift ever. And then Sati chimed in, “I am sad too. I am sad because I miss the sun.” And so I responded, “Maybe we should all be sad and cry together, or we can think of things we are happy about.”

Kai said he was happy because he got  Valentine’s cards and Sati said she was happy because she loved the moon. Ahh, how I love you two and your father. I’ve been wanting to start writing again. It’s been many years since I have taken to the discipline of recording my thoughts on paper. Ever since I was mugged in Peru, and my journal, which was as a best friend, was ripped away from me in my back pack and I was left unconscious on the streets of Arequipa, I have had a difficult time writing. But even now I make excuses of why I shouldn’t write: too much self-doubt.

One of the things I have learned however, is that if you do anything, do it with love. We all have our critics. But absolutely it is better to have loved and to have lost , than to have not loved at all. So love what you do.

I am happy to lay bare my soul if some day, you my children, may come to these pages and know the beauty that has befallen me. That you may know your worth in how full my heart and your father’s heart is from knowing you.

I pray to Creator, I send messages with eagles and I whisper to the wind…always asking and giving thanks for you. Next week, I will be in Tulum, praying to Isis.  As far as I am concerned God exists in many forms as an Ultimate Love. I encourage you both in your time to find the form that most feels natural to you. If when you pray, you pray to a toilet and get to know it like a friend, and it inspires you to be a better person and to search for how you will give back to Life, then I will think you are an absolute NUT, and that maybe you are drinking too much.

Better than a toilet, is Life itself: the tress, the wind, the moon and her stars, the angels, God and Goddess.

And to whatever Divine Energy created all this wonderment for us…..I am not suggesting praying to the Big Bang…but to the mysterious force behind it. I assure you that that source will not only listen but respond as well. If it is easier for you to find God in examples such as Buddha or Jesus Christ, Mother Mary, if when you speak to them in your mind and through your heart and peace comes, then DO that. As long as you are able to find something higher than yourselves, you will ultimately know this higher Love as the potential in which you too can become.

For we too can be Creators of Love. A life dedicated to Love is a long path. I am constantly falling off of it. But then I remember that my very life is a gift and an opportunity to search for Divine Light within and with out of myself and to bathe in it’s essence.  For when we know it, even one taste, our lives will be fulfilled.  Such a level of fulfillment is impossible to reach through the material. I do believe that sex with love, chocolate, a good home cooked meal….these are all good things. Things in and of themselves are not bad. However, it is our relationship to things that can be good or bad, healthy or unhealthy. I believe in the saying, Everything in Moderation, including Moderation. If you start drinking coffee, or smoking cigarettes, or even going to the gym, and it becomes an addiction, than it is no longer good.  But if you can take things up easily and then put them back down, for the love and enjoyment of the experience of them, I say, most likely, you are a heathy human being. SO yes, I encourage you, as your mother, to find joy and laughter through buying something you really love, indulging in an expensive meal, or pair of shoes, every once in awhile. But there is nothing like feeling God’s love. I guarantee you. And most likely that will happen when you are sober and in nature.

How fortunate I have been to experience such a feeling. Sometimes when I hold you, I am whole. The moment is lacking of nothing and perfect. You two tell me you love me EVERY day. Imagine that. I know that is not going to last forever. Every child grows up and I will not always be what you call me..The Queen.

Another doorway of communication to the Divine is through my church. Though I honestly DO NOT recommend the Native American Church for every body. Truly, it can kick you in the ass if you are not careful. And though there is nothing wrong with the occasional humbling of a good ass-whupping, this precious bird must be treated with respect in order not to become extinct.

We Non- Natives, are so incredibly fortunate to be welcomed into a church that was originally not created for us. In some places, whites (and I am grouping all skin colors whose blood line doesn’t originate back to this land we call America) are still not allowed into tipi meetings. For a people who have generation after generation been taken from, I cannot blame them. I do believe that the indigenous heart is one of faith in the good in people. There are road men, leaders of the ceremonies, who try not to see color but rather know all of us as God’s children. They see this to be the way, the only way, we can ever have peace.

And so with that in mind, I can really only share with you the images and beauty that I have personally received from the church. Maybe enough to pique your curiosity enough that we will find ourselves as a family unit in the future taking in the fire and the songs together.

At the very first meeting I hosted at my house, Uncle Bill asked me to bring in the water.

I had only sat up twice before in my life and was very nervous about the responsibility of that, especially because the prayer was such a massive one. We were praying against power lines springing up all along our river. And all of the policy leading up to it was making things look grim. Of course, it wasn’t only due to that prayer, but the time and commitment of people fighting against it. One young activist who attended the meeting did say later how grateful he was to experience that ceremony. To be able to focus his love and energy with LOVE on what was wanted than consistently fighting what was unwanted.

Bill assured me that my innocence and lack of experience would bring us all closer to God’s ear. That Creation loves innocence.

Anyhow, as I would eventually find out, rain always comes to visit the prayer meetings I have at my house. Because I had such limited knowledge of what that meant, at first I was worried about my carpets getting ruined by the 50 guests who arrived. But as I sat in the tipi I realized what a blessing it was to have the rain there.

There was actually a hole in the tipi and the rain found itself to me. It was dripping on my shoulder like a Chinese torture, teasing me, “you will have to speak for me soon”.

When the time came for morning water, I sat in front of the blazing fire still wondering what I was going to say. Sati, you were still night time nursing. You awoke and came over to me and quietly started nursing. Overwhelmed by the Beauty of the Water, and Uncle Bill’s trust in me, I began to pray and later wrote this poem about the experience.

Water Girl

In the beginning,

 I was afraid

How could I,

 a child,

give blessings?

the rain came

to search me out

drips of comfort

upon my back 

“I’ve been here all along,

inside of you.

you honor me with your tears.

how can you be afraid of that 

which you are- 

purity, forgiveness, love.

for you and I are one.”

as winged air

caressed my spirit

and uncle gave me 

blessings from the fire,

a most gentle shower

came in that moment only

when  sacred time arrived

I brought in the water

and while waiting in the hotspot

my daughter awoke

she came like an angel

and began to comfort herself

drinking my own water

that is made just for her

as the the words came,

the rain fell

I thanked the water

for hearing our prayers 

taking them deep into the earth’s roots

blessing us with her gentle song

“I am new to these ways.

But they are old in my heart.

I’ve heard the rain.

She shares her sadness,

her longing that we delight in her.”

I thanked my mother for her presence,

for being  at my daughter’s birth.

I prayed to see the daughters of our daughters being born.

I apologized for jumping ahead of my elders.

And after praising the woman ,

 I remembered the support of the men.

Sunshine was named.

Through the eyes of the guests,

 I saw the land through their eyes.

 I heard the rooster crowing for the first time.

a new day was born

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