Ceremony, Kinship, Old Wisdom
Regardless of the outcome of the US election, life is full and the story far bigger, broader and longer. The sun goes down early at this time of year, but what joy and living can be filled between sunrise and sunset.
Early Hours
In the high hours of the night
stars get naked
and bathe in the rivers.
Owls desire them,
the little feathers on their heads
stand up.
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| K’iche’ Maya poet Humberto Ak’abal. Photo: Norm Minnick. |
The poem, "Early Hours" arrived in my INBOX the other day; a gift. The poem and the poet were new to me, but I have come to love them both more deeply each time I read it. Click on the link below the photo of Guatemalan poet Humberto Ak'abal to listen to the poet read his poems at the 2001 Minnesota Men's Conference with Robert Bly. He read in Spanish as well as in Ak'abal's native language K'iche' (Mayan) and Miguel Rivera translated them into English. Beautiful. disantangling meaning while entangled with feeling and feeding my native heart. The sounds I hear with my heart and belly. The bells of his language ring like wind that know my name. Sadly, Ak'abal died in 2019.
The gift-giver, my friend, and I had enjoyed a serendipitous meeting earlier in the day under the Tall Cedar Sisters. We met just as I had begun my prayers and practice of Jin Shin Jyutsu; I had arms crossed against my chest, my fingers into my arm-pits and thumbs under my collar bone in position to adapt to the changing circumstances of my life. I was leaning into the strong ancient trunk of Cedar when I felt company. There on the trail I had walked minutes ago, alone, was my friend, Jude, her dog, Eclipse and not far behind, her cat, Lyra.
I remember thinking about and feeling that sacred time with the Tall Cedars. Meeting, greeting and exchanging ideas and stories that crossed mundance territory into sacred because there were the qualities of Ceremony present. Though time would past before I could name those qualities, they (those qualities) were there. Dr. Pualani Kanaka'ole Kanahele describes the qualities of Ceremony in the following video. When one is open to receive, the gifts come. I include the video below as part of this post because those are the qualities we all need to embrace. Now, more than ever.
Listen for those qualities and consider their place in your life today:
Bound as we are now, Pete and I have settled our wheeled home onto the land where Tall Ones -- Cedar, Fir, Alder and company of other kin keep that reciprocal process of chumming clouds for the exchange of rainwater. The season of rain brings water to the Maxwelton Watershed, but, for today there is sunshine brought by the winds. We are outside and appreciate the colors of change, the feel of the wind, the sound of the yama bell in 'ohe. I hope some of those winds will introduce themselves to me by name if I chant to them and tell them who I am.
I met my neighbor this morning as he carried a bicycle tire down the gravel hill and packed it into the back of his Jeep. Dan said this brilliant sunshine is here for three days. Pete and I have a plan to pick the apples that are still hanging on the three trees near the goats on the hill.
I remember another time when the Tall Cedar Sisters and their kin just across the Salish Sea from this island wove a bridge between the mundane and sacred and sent me a dream that would connect me with a path unimaginable. That earlier Tall Cedar occasion found me cut off from everything I had known as 'sure.' I was being re-born, though I couldn't have said that at the time. I was reading Women Who Run with The Wolves, drowning in tears or perhaps learning to swim again in a womb of my own making.
“There is no one a wildish woman loves better than a mate who can be her equal.”
― Women Who Run With the Wolves: Myths and Stories of the Wild Woman Archetype
All those salty tears fed the Tall Cedar sisters enough to flow into those rivers where stars love to swim naked. The owls and the Cedars must have fed on the quote from Clarissa Pinkola Estes's book. Through the gauze pink curtains came a tall lean man in a Carhart coat. Pete.
Distant are we from the Old Wisdom of my island. To count the miles that separate us one might say, "That is too far to hear their voices." But, that would be true if my listening is limited to that which can be seen.
As Pua said in her talk above, "Modernity will change us, and that is good. We live in the now world. But, the place stays the same..." Even as I recognize how I am changed by circumstances -- I live in a wagon, twenty-five hundred miles from my birthplace, and own no land or mortgage. But. It is the exchange of experiences between people with different vantage points which flesh-out my life; and the presence of NATURE as my core value that builds my spiritual connection.
Add to that a mate that can be my equal, and I move quickly, walk, and lean into the mundane and the sacred as one hulihia after another reconfigure the world as we know it. I am wild enough to be alive while the world is in huli.
And in case you're wondering about the apples? Four buckets-full and a fun time had by all. I'll need an extra dose of St. Joan's wort tincture for the old muscles still getting used to living on shaded hillsides and don't you know I'm glad we have plenty.
Listen for the definition of hulihia in the video presentation above. The photos above were taken today here on the land near and around Camp Bamboo in the Maxwelton Valley, on Whidbey Island. I hope your day is filled with moments of ceremony, opportunity for kinship, and old wisdom brought to you on winds that know your name.
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