Sacred Reciprocity

Far Vision and the Long Run

Several years ago I heard a program on NPR’s Morning Edition interviewing a former Israeli Army officer about his interactive computer game called PeaceMaker. The game’s setting is the Israeli-Palestinian Conflict. This is what caught my attention: He said it was about “winning peace.”

There are two roles: the Israeli Prime Minister or the Palestinian President. You can even take both sides and play “against” yourself, entering into different worldviews and available resources. Crisis situations inspired by real events are presented for a decision. There are political advisors who try to persuade to their side—hawk or dove. So it’s about decision-making and strategies. But the most interesting thing is that it shows the effect of the decision—and how the impact of that one critical act may play out in the future! Not unlike a process I often take clients through when they’re at some important juncture in their lives.

They did a short demo during the interview. The host chose to play the Israeli Prime Minister. A skirmish popped up. The advisors hovered. What to do? After a bit of indecision, the host decided he’d send in the army in the name of security—the hawk’s advice. It worked…for a moment. Almost immediately red lights lit up in a number of places on the map. His decision had sparked other crises! Then he was presented with the dire conditions Palestinian civilians were suffering as a result of his decision.

What to do? He took the dove’s advice this time and sent aid. But wait. The Palestinians rejected it. They didn’t trust the move. Look what he did just a short time ago. And so it goes…you don’t win in this game, or any other for that matter, unless the outcome is balanced for both sides. The inventor said losing and frustration are part of the lesson.

We have to learn to do it differently—for all concerned—until competition becomes moot. A one-sided gain never works in the long run. It’s really about acquiring far vision, following a decision out to the horizon line as much as we can.

San Francisco Peaks

San Francisco Peaks sacred to the Native people of Arizona. This view from my own sanctuary inspires me to maintain the far vision every day.

In 2009 I was in Santa Fe at a conference put on by the International Funders for Indigenous Peoples Foundation. I heard many stories about outside impacts endangering Native lifeways. A Zuni farmer from Northern Arizona talked about the challenge he was having keeping genetically engineered corn from blowing into his fields and pollinating his Native corn. The result would be stalks that grow higher but are broken by the wind—and the loss of their pure Native strain that had adapted well to the conditions of their land over centuries. For his people it’s not just about loss of crops and food but also loss of heritage, a spiritual connection.

Shortly after returning I saw the documentary The Future of Food, largely about genetically engineered food and its effect, not only on health but heritage, and the absurd greed of large corporations. You see, these corporations have been allowed to patent their seed, a strange practice. There was a story about a farmer in the Midwest who, much like the Zuni farmer, was having trouble with Monsanto Corporation trucks passing on the highway blowing their corn into his fields. His family had developed their heritage corn over a couple of hundred years. He lost the battle. Not only did Monsanto’s corn cross-pollinate, he lost his family heritage in more ways than one. In a bizarre move, Monsanto sued him for patent infringement and won. Had such an outcome crossed the minds of scientists in the Monsanto labs who were developing the product? I’d like to give them the benefit of the doubt but who knows. Since that film came out there have been a number of others with a similar story line.

The examples given here—warring countries, loss of traditions and ways of life—are very big issues. But we can have an impact at the micro level, every day in our own lives, that play into the macro level. Typically we’re untrained. Not many think of wider impact, through time. But if we take the opportunity to project our thoughts and potential actions on down the road and assess the likely outcome, we’d actually find we all have an innate sense of far vision.  We just need to stop, take a breath and then use it.

If you need it, perhaps you can find further inspiration from Neil Young.

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I’m issuing you an invitation to make a statement for far vision. Participate in our January 31-February 1 Seed Wisdom events in Phoenix. Proceeds benefit the seed saving project founded by Grandmother Flordemayo of the International Council of 13 Indigenous Grandmothers. Make an impact. If you’re unable to attend, please donate to the project. Every bit makes a difference.

Categories: Compassionate Communication, Healthy Living, Indigenous Rights, Sacred Reciprocity, Spiritual Evolution | Tags: , , , | Leave a comment

Holy Intent, Invisible Threads

This season is a holy time for many peoples in the world. While multitudes participate fully in—what has become—frenzied materialism, others take a pause or at least strike a balance.

Hopi Ceremonial Calendar by Filmer Kewanyama

Hopi Ceremonial Calendar
by Filmer Kewanyama

Hopi artist friend Filmer Kewanyama says this about December: “The earth’s crust is very fragile. For us, we are supposed to be quiet and reflect on who we are. It is a time for us to be quiet and listen.” This is when storytelling takes place, passing on oral history to the next generation, and the Soyal Ceremony occurs in the kiva, looking to the coming year with great spiritual focus. It’s when the men fashion prayers feathers. Traditionally when Hopi Spirit Keepers have accompanied my groups to Mayalands, they’ve given prayer feathers to those of us holding the center of the journey. The paho, or prayer feather, we each receive is from the roadrunner and meant to protect us as we travel and enter the new year. I wear mine throughout the journey and, upon return home, place each one in a special vessel I keep on my altar.*

This season has become a quiet time for me in the sense that I step back from external activity, a way to remember my own roots, an instilled period of reflection and solitude. And explicitly because there is such space and time for exposure, it’s become heightened with insights, dreams and creative surges for me. Messages come through from the Infinite and that still point inside is given voice.

In that spirit, I’m sharing a dream here that I had early Christmas morning.  I was sponsoring an event, and the person who was to present didn’t show. I knew I needed to step in with an impromptu talk. The audience was getting restless. I thought to speak about the work I believe in: preserving the sanctity of Native traditions to inform the next generations, to bring us back to those core elements that hold the world together. But the words wouldn’t come. How do you express something whose meaning runs so deeply that it can only be felt, that words wouldn’t do justice?

I floundered. Anxiety was showing its face. Just as some of the audience started to collect their coats and leave, Native and non-Native people began to materialize out of the ether to stand on either side of me. Some I knew; others I didn’t. In turn they related the effect, tangible and intangible, that our projects and journeys had on them personally, the importance of continuity toward spiritual grounding, hope, or a wound tended that would otherwise have gone unhealed.

Acknowledge My Relations

Acknowledge My Relations
by Filmer Kewanyama

I came fully awake, feeling resolve to continue holding the vision, even when it seems like few others do, roadblocks appear, or I don’t personally see the ultimate outcome of the intent. For me, these are aspects of true faith realized in this sacred season.

Typically, I don’t remember my dreams. When I do, I know it’s from that invisible realm that retains more wisdom than I do on a daily basis. I would be lying if I said I don’t falter, feel like giving up many times and throwing in the towel. It’s a human condition, especially so when any of us hold a vision that runs counter to the mainstream world, and progress is defying gravity uphill. This is what I sense happens in the kiva: restoring of faith, strengthening of purpose.

True advancements come not from the mainstream but from a collective retaining the holy vision, with understanding how invisible threads may be woven.

That was the prayer feather of my dream Christmas morning that protected me from loss of faith. With renewed intent, I share it here as my own offering—for the circle of life—to guide the next year.

***

Kenosis Spirit Keepers is the nonprofit arm of Kenosis. To learn more about our work, please go here. Your end-of-year donation is tax-deductible and strengthens our mission to preserve Indigenous wisdom for a better world.

The words and artwork of Filmer Kewanyama are used with his full permission. To view a collection of his expressive artwork, go here.

*Most years Entering the Maya Mysteries spiritual travel journeys occur in January.

Categories: cultural interests, Healing, Hopi, Sacred Reciprocity | Tags: , , , , | 5 Comments

Interview with Dianna “Snow Eagle” Henry, Seed Saver

Flordemayo documenting seeds.

Grandmother Flordemayo documenting seeds.
Photo credit: The Path

Grandmother Flordemayo had twice mentioned Dianna “Snow Eagle” Henry to me during my visits to the Seed Temple in Estancia, New Mexico. Each time she lamented, “You just missed her! She was here helping but went back home.”  Home turned out to be Arkansas. When Flordemayo began to establish the Seed Temple, which Kenosis Spirit Keepers helps support, she called Dianna to consult her expertise regarding seed preservation. Dianna has gone back and forth providing service ever since.

The last time I was there, Flordemayo put a book in my hands. Dianna’s coffee table book Whispering Ancestors: The Wisdom of Corn is an illustrated treasure trove of information on Native varieties, some lost to time and then resurrected. In certain ways it takes you back in time by identifying which Native Tribes carried different strains, planting instructions—and hints at the esoteric, ancestral knowledge in the Seed Collective. I was intrigued.

Native Seeds

Native seeds.
Photo Credit: Wisdom of Corn.

Dianna consented to an interview for The Lifepath Dialogues. Below you’ll find the audio recording uploaded to You Tube. She graciously shares how the seed-saving path opened to her, rather unexpectedly as passions sometimes do, and the ways that spiritual knowledge from seeds began to come. One of the many things I appreciate about Dianna is her willingness to follow a path that’s unknown but fueled by intent. She shares it all.

Kenosis Spirit Keepers is pleased to sponsor Grandmother Flordemayo, Dianna Henry and Greg Schoen for events in Phoenix on January 31-February 1, 2014. Greg is also a respected seed saver with many years’ experience and will take us “down the rabbit hole” into the mysticism of seeds. You can read his article about Rainbow Corn in Mother Earth News here.

This Friday night talk and Saturday experiential workshop will directly benefit the Seed Temple’s preservation work. You’re invited to join us and know that—as you are receiving the teachings—you’re also benefiting the wider work of global consciousness.

(Note: The benefit dates mentioned in the recorded interview were changed so that Grandmother Flordemayo could also personally participate, offer her knowledge and prayers.)

Categories: cultural interests, Healthy Living, Indigenous Wisdom, Interview, Sacred Reciprocity, Spiritual Evolution | Tags: , , , , , | Leave a comment

Book Review – Full Moon Feast: Food and the Hunger for Connection

Full Moon Feast

Jessica Prentice is a chef and food activist in the San Francisco Bay area who is an avid proponent for locally grown foods. In other words, she urges us toward tradition. Full Moon Feast is a book about food and more with stories from Indigenous cultures of appreciation for what nourishes. It also tells of challenges and confusion related to relationship with food. Jessica advocates for small farmers who choose to uphold commitment and passion toward their way of life. At the same time, she documents methods of modern food production that have lost their humanity and encourage disconnection from our food sources and each other.

The author calls us back to a more engaged, mindful way of nourishing ourselves by connecting us to what food once held—the circle of life. She grounds the meaning and timing of food selection by our own natural rhythms and the thirteen lunar cycles. This book comforts and takes back to our roots—easily forgotten in a fast food universe. And it’s full of tempting recipes like Salmon Cured with Maple and Juniper, Summer Berries with Lavender Créme Anglaise or Sourdough Cheese Herb Scones. If you allow it, Full Moon Feast will deepen your appreciation for the food in your life and cause you to start searching out locally grown produce as it did me. The book is available through Amazon and bookstores. 

Categories: Book Review, Healing, Healthy Living, Indigenous Wisdom, Sacred Reciprocity | Tags: , , , | Leave a comment

When Hopi Spirits Come to Life: Home Dance at Moenkopi

In July 2009 I was invited by Harold and Char Joseph to Home Dance, the first one in the Hopi village of Moenkopi in 50 years—a very historic event. It’s during this July dance ritual that the Katsina spirits are ushered back to the San Francisco Peaks, the mountain range north of Flagstaff, Arizona, where they live until their return to Hopi in February of each year.*

A friend and I arrived at Moenkopi village outside Tuba City just before dawn. Harold was already leaving home. Moenkopi being Char’s home village, Harold acted as a helper. Normally Harold would have been at Second Mesa’s Shungopavi, already a long time in the kiva, a subterranean chamber reserved for religious rituals, engaged in ceremony in his home village. But this time being quite special he was lending a hand the way relatives do.

The previous night we’d ventured down to the plaza with other family members, carrying chairs, staking out a place in one of several rows already formed. The dirt plaza was long and narrow, enclosed by the original stone homes dating back to the 1870s. I felt like I’d stepped back to another era.

Going Home Shungopavi

Going Home Shungopavi
Oil on canvas
depicting Home Dance.
©2011 Carla Woody

That early morning we sat at the edge of the village with others who had gathered, high on the bluff overlooking the lush cornfields below, a sharp contrast to the red rock cliffs surrounding them. I only discovered later that we actually perched on a kiva. An elder came and asked everyone to move. He slid the wood covering over to reveal its secret and climbed down.

We waited, slightly chilled by the light wind. Glancing around me, some of the people were in special dress, the women in beautiful shawls, and a few young girls wore the traditional hairstyle with fluted buns over each ear. There was a low buzz of conversation and greetings. Everyone waited patiently for the sunlight to hit the cornfields below. A number of pick-up trucks were parked to the side of the fields. In my mind, I converted them to horses. A sound was on the breeze that led me into another time and dimension.

At first it was faint but then it grew, rising up as though from the bowels of the earth. A chant that rose and fell, coming from an area of trees near the field. Those around me went quiet in anticipation, eyes glued, fingers pointing. And finally when the light hit the field just so, Katsinam emerged from the copse forming a single line as they began the slow walk up to the village, carrying cornstalks. It seemed like the line had no end. Finally, all Katsinam came into full view from the woods. They numbered 130, give or take.

As we shifted to our seats at the far end of the plaza, Katsinam poured in one-by-one, forming an ellipsis, continuing the chant, making the small repetitive movements that created the dance, virtually right in front of us. The sound of bells and rattles, strapped to each knee, accompanied each step and joined the drone of their voices. Even though sun now heated the air, I got chicken skin.

They gave cornstalks, a symbol of prosperity, to those watching and gifts of fruit and piki, a paper-thin rolled tortilla made from blue corn. The dancing continued. Then it was time for the first round to end. And the Kachinam left the plaza to be sequestered again. They performed at great sacrifice, foregoing food and water in the blistering sun until much later in the day.

But it was now time for the rest of the village to eat. We returned to the Joseph home and feasted on hominy stew and drank strong coffee. When the phone rang, I’d hear them tell the person on the other end, “Come eat!” One of the family members told me, “This is the Hopi way!” Indeed it was. As people poured through the door, they were directed to grab a plate and ladle a good helping.

The Katsinam were to dance eight times that day. Between dances families and friends gathered at homes, many from out of town it being such a special time. Each time food was shared. We were encouraged to nap in the heat of the day—which I did, in a room full of people that felt like family to me even though it was my first time meeting some of them.

How was it that this was the first Home Dance in Moenkopi in 50 years? Many Hopi people have fallen away from the traditions, and the necessary initiations haven’t occurred to support the ceremonies. Shungopavi is the only village that keeps the complete cycle of religious ceremonies unbroken, the elders staunch.

A strong older woman instigated the 2009 Home Dance. Her son was marrying. She wanted to show off the wedding robes of her son’s bride as part of the ritual. Other brides would be able to do the same. Through her commitment the village re-engaged, others coming from elsewhere to support the ceremony, accounting for the large number of Katsinam, a profound example of what determination can do—and for good cause. Traditions take us back to where we began. For my part, an appreciative outsider greatly stirred by the experience, I hope the Home Dance continues in Moenkopi. At this writing, it’s recurred once. That was in 2011.

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*A Katsina is a spirit being of the Pueblo Tribes, an invisible natural force that can be called upon to bestow protection and wellbeing for the village. Katsinam is the plural form. In the Hopi tradition there are approximately 400 different Katsinam, each one different and having a separate purpose. For days prior to religious dances, initiated males enter the kiva and undertake long rituals. When they emerge from the kiva to dance, they are no longer who they were when they entered. Instead, they are the embodiment of these powerful spirit beings, dancing in human form, on the earth.
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I will sponsor Spiritual Travel to Hopi: Sacred Guardians of the World during March 6-9, 2014. This is a rare chance to experience Hopi Spirit Keepers in their homes, hear the ancient stories, visit sacred sites, learn about medicine ways and attend the Night Dances, all that weaves the very identity of the Hopi people as guardians of the world. Only recently is it now possible to be invited to such an experience. It’s only through relationships I’ve developed over a number of years that this program has been born. Join us for this adventure of the spirit! Early registration discount ends November 6. A portion of tuition is tax-deductible to support Kenosis Spirit Keepers’ projects preserving Native traditions.
Categories: cultural interests, Hopi, Indigenous Wisdom, Sacred Reciprocity, Spiritual Travel, Travel Experiences | Tags: , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Seed Intelligence: Indigenous Perspectives and Our Collective Birthright

In October 2010, Flordemayo was in Los Angeles attending a conference. At break she returned to her room on the 23rd floor. Before lying down to rest her eyes, she noticed an emerald green glow on the wall. When she opened them again the light had taken up the entire wall and a vision unfolded. “There was a panoramic landscape and everything was emerald,” she said. “It was so beautiful that I said to myself, ‘I’m going into this light.’ I have absolute memory of walking in a field dialoguing with everything. I noticed a mountain to my right. Then everything began to change! At the top, it split and there was movement like an avalanche! The forest and everything in it came tumbling down—trees, animals, stones, water. It crossed the road below and I saw that all domestic life was being swept away! I thought, ‘I have to get to my cornfield!’ I was praying and running as fast as I could, and then I’m grabbing the yellow corn, the blue, the red, the black…and then I grabbed all the rainbow corn I could grab! I bundled all the corn I could carry up in my long skirt. But I couldn’t run fast enough! I heard a voice from above, ‘Flordemayo! What are you doing? The military is coming!’ I answered in a cry to the Universe, ‘It just doesn’t matter anymore!’ Then I was standing in the hotel room again facing the wall. The emerald light was gone. I had tears in my eyes. I fell back on my bed. I was devastated.”

Flordemayo

Grandmother Flordemayo
Photo credit: Linda Rettinger

As a young child, Flordemayo was recognized as a seer. By the age of four, she had already begun her training as a curandera espiritu, a healer through divine spirit, a gift inherited through long family lineage, originating from the Maya highlands of Central America. She is a member of the International Council of 13 Indigenous Grandmothers, standing for peace and healing of the Mother Earth. When messages come strongly, Flordemayo knows to answer them—no matter the obstacles.

What is the timeliness of this vision?

Apab’yan Tew is an Ajq’ij, a Day Keeper, and spiritual guide of the sacred K’iche Maya tradition from the village of Nawalja’ in Sololá of the Guatemalan highlands. His ceremonial work most often takes place in caves, engaging with resident energies of the natural site and timing of the Tzolkin calendar in conjunction with needs of communities or individuals. Like Flordemayo, his gifts evolved from childhood until he ultimately answered the call through a series of difficult shamanic challenges.

Apab'yan Tew

Apab’yan Tew
Photo source: Apab’yan Tew

Apab’yan elaborates on the Maya worldview: “We cannot be who we must be without the land. Another principle is that the body we have is not really ours. It is lent from the Mother Earth herself. So if you create any kind of danger to your body, you are also hurting the Mother Earth. What the Earth produces and what we produce is part of the same cycle, the same system. We are not separated from the Earth—and the Earth is not to be thought of as just another provider of goods. The term that is used in the West is ‘natural resources’ as something to be taken, something to be transformed. For us, we don’t use this term. We use the term ‘elements of life.’ It is our life! It is not a resource.”

In Indigenous traditions, every aspect of life is integrated and sacred. This Maya spiritual leader is quite clear that to surpass a cycle creates imbalance. Nothing should be moved from its place in the Universe. His people think of the seed as a living feminine entity, not a commodity. There is a proper way to carry her, to talk to her, the Sky and the field in the act of sowing according to specific timing. This in itself is a ceremony, integration of a flow that already exists and must not be taken from those like himself who hold these ways close.

There are those who seek to eradicate the sacred ways.

Apab’yan talks about the Maya ways of respect: “It is our purpose not to take more than we can give back. But it is also our purpose not to change. We must not touch what is not ours. It is not ours from the beginning. It is ours to have a dialogue. The seeds talk to us. We have five seeds. Only one of the five is for us. One is for the Sky. One is for the Earth. One is for the brothers in the fields. Maybe there’s a crow that’s going to come. The last one is for anybody who needs it. In my harvesting, maybe I’ll have some extra seeds to give to someone or sell them. There’s no harvesting for commercial purposes. But we have extra if someone needs it. We are Corn Beings. So we must not even play with the seeds.”

He believes there is no current problem with GMO seed infiltration in the high altitude area of his village: “You don’t sell milk to a cow!” For the Guatemalan highlands, there’s not enough room for the politics of Monsanto. What the West calls “organic” these Maya farmers have been doing for eons—and the best selection has long ago been made. However, he sees a danger as any of his people become more influenced, perhaps by emigrating and then returning home, to set aside their ancient ways of living.

That same protection isn’t available to Native and heritage farmers in the US. Five years ago I sat in a conference session and heard a Zuni man sadly express the fear he held: the real possibility of GM seeds blowing into the fields that he and his ancestors had planted with their pure Native strain for hundreds of years. It was disheartening and outrageous.

If the spirits of Earth and Sky are no different than the seeds they sow, the food they eat, what their bodies are made of…then to tamper with any part is an outright act against religious freedom and quality of life, rights the US constitution is supposed to uphold. For giant agribusinesses to also attempt to spread their seed where people have few rights equates to preying upon those who have a voice but are ignored. When spiritual tradition falls apart, grounding dissolves; detrimental influences make additional in-roads; suffering takes over—a process proven over history. Spiritual pride is lost; ethnic groups are additionally marginalized.

A grassroots movement has sprung up.

Learn About GMOsPeople are starting to come together, much as in past times of threat or needed change. Coalitions are appearing like GMO-Free Prescott, a small, volunteer-run nonprofit organization in Prescott, Arizona specifically formed to educate and support everyone’s right to choose food and products that have not been genetically modified. Founder Shea Richland states, “I got involved due to health issues when I was leaving ‘no stone unturned’ to find answers. The more I learned, the more concerned I became. When the documentary Thrive was being shown in our area, I felt it was an opportune time to do more. So, GMO-Free Prescott was born. If people were walking what the Native people teach, then our organization wouldn’t be necessary.”

Winona LaDuke, an Anishinaabekwe (Ojibwe) enrolled member of the Mississippi Band Anishinaabeg, is known as an environmental activist. She is the Executive Director of Honor the Earth, where she works on a national level to advocate, raise public support and create funding for frontline Native environmental groups. She lives and works on the White Earth Reservation. Her organization offers a number of naturally derived products that may be found via Native Harvest online to help fund the White Earth Land Recovery Project.

Winona LaDuke Source: Native Harvest

Winona LaDuke
Source: Native Harvest

She shares this: “When I was a young woman, my father would listen to me patiently, with great compassion, as I explained to him the many environmental issues facing our community and the complexities of the world. His name was Sun Bear, or Vincent LaDuke. He used to tell me, ‘Winona, you are a smart young woman, but I don’t want to hear your philosophy unless you can grow corn.’

I remembered this for many years but was not as smart as he thought. It took me until the turn of the millennium to become a corn grower. I thought about this often and wondered about the corn varieties my ancestors in northern Minnesota would have grown. I began a quest, one of many. The first corn that came to me was a Bear Island Flint corn, eight to twelve inch, multicolored cobs. The seeds were gifted from Ricardo Salvador, then a professor at Iowa State University. He had found them in a seed bank. The corn came from an island in the middle of Leech Lake Reservation, where I later learned, after many interviews and much research, that our people often grew corn on islands, away from predators, in micro-climates surrounded by water. Ingenious. We began to grow. Then, I moved onto Manitoba White Flint, the northernmost varieties of the Ojibwe, grown about 100 miles north of Winnipeg.”

Winona notes the importance of growing Native seeds and seed saving: “Never a crop failure after all these years with this corn! It is hearty (with) twice the protein and half the calories of market corn. And it is resilient. (Through) frost, drought and high winds, it stays. We were the northernmost corn growers in the world. And yet, we had lost much of our corn and our seeds. So, we have grown that corn now for a decade. Again…resilient. Monsanto’s crops failed in 2012, but ours did not. We are grateful. That was the beginning. Today, we are growing an 800-year-old squash, found in an archeological dig in Wisconsin. And we are growing many other varieties. It is our hope to create a northern Anishinaabe seed bank.”

The vision that Flordemayo received was a strong message coming from the Creator to uphold the welfare of our interconnections. As she accepted what seemed like a monumental task, things quickly began to fall in place—as it so often does when a vision is true. Exactly the funds required to purchase the forty acres of land that came available near her home in Estancia, New Mexico appeared. She established the Seed Temple as a volunteer-run project under her nonprofit organization, The Path. Smaller donations came to excavate the underground seed vault, construct the classroom building that covers it, and to create its accompanying medicine circle and fire temple. Flordemayo said, “You can’t have plants without water. We need a place to go and pray…to hold the spirits of water and plants in prayer.”

Rainbow Corn

Rainbow Corn
Photo: Greg Schoen

Local volunteers and those from some distances come regularly to continue building and advise. Greg Schoen is one of them. He’s impassioned about seed preservation: “Crops are being stripped and ‘dumbed down,’ the diversity bred out of them. When we do this to the corn, we do this to ourselves.” He got his start as a seed saver in the mid-1980s receiving his original “Glass Gem” jewel-like kernels from Carl L. Barnes, a mixed blood man of Cherokee/Irish/Scots ancestry now in his eighties living near Liberal, Kansas. Over the years, Greg received other Native varieties from Carl, planted them himself and gifted them to such organizations as Native Seeds/SEARCH in Tucson, Arizona.

“I think of corn as holding a knowledge, like a recordkeeper. Sometimes when Carl would grow corn in his fields, Native strains that had gone extinct would re-emerge. When Native people here lost the corn they carried, it’s like they lost the central point that anchored them to the land, like they lost their language. So, when Carl would reintroduce their ancestral corn to them, they would light up. It would be like you were wandering in the desert and your ancient scrolls were returned to you!”

Greg freely gifts baggies of “Glass Gem” seeds to anyone who wants them. In the coming year he will plant at the Sufi community near Silver City, New Mexico where he now lives. When asked what direction the Seed Temple would take, he said, “We’re starting to provide educational support to seed savers. There will also be a ‘seed lending library.’ Individuals can take portions of the seed stock of one of more items from the seed bank, with the agreement that they will grow out the seed according to proper growing practices, and return a portion of the seed produced to the seed bank. Those are just some of our plans.”

Flordemayo affirmed Greg’s statement and added, “The seed has a spirit, but it doesn’t have a voice. We are giving the seeds a voice! We are welcoming Native and heritage seeds from growers. The only restriction is that the seeds are organically grown; and we know where they came from and who is growing them. So we need to have documentation in receiving them.”

Kenosis Spirit Keepers is the volunteer-run nonprofit I founded to help preserve Indigenous wisdom traditions. We see the Native seed issue as an integral aspect of Indigenous spiritual traditions and are helping to support the Seed Temple. More is still to be done in the way of construction and obtaining all things necessary to start up and maintain. One way Flordemayo plans to help fund the project is through classes in the growing and use of medicinal herbs, sacred bathing, and vision and dream work. She has turned the Hogan, located next to the seed vault, into the Temple of the Golden Child, which will be used for this purpose.

More and more independent seed saving operations are being established in pockets around the globe. Greg Schoen continues to quietly do what he can to preserve our heritage by sharing his passion, experiences and seeds with others on a similar track. Shea Richland believes so strongly in our birthright for health and well-being that she reluctantly stepped into the public eye to form GMO-Free Prescott and educate regarding our choices. Winona LaDuke works at the national level through organized environmental activism. Flordemayo answered a vision. Apab’yan Tew performs ceremonies for the well-being of the planet in the dark recesses of caves.

It takes all of us, each bringing our own way, in the face of such forces that would act against us, to support and maintain our collective birthright—and succeed.

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This article is being incorporated into the Anishinaabekwe (Ojibwe) Farming Curriculum that will be part of the Tribal Community Colleges in the region where Honor the Earth Foundation is active.

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Kenosis Spirit Keepers is sponsoring Grandmother Flordemayo and seed savers Greg Schoen and Dianna Henry for events on January 31-February 1, 2014 in Phoenix, Arizona. The proceeds from ticket sales go to support the seed saving project founded by Grandmother Flordemayo. For information and to purchase tickets, please go here.

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Sources:

Interviews with Flordemayo, October 17, 2012 and February 1, 2013.

Interviews with Greg Schoen, October 17, 2012 and February 8, 2013.

Interview with Apab’yan Tew, November 6, 2012.

Interview with Winona LaDuke, November 27, 2012.

Interviews with Shea Richland, November 9, 2012 and January 2, 2013.

Categories: cultural interests, Indigenous Rights, Indigenous Wisdom, Sacred Reciprocity, Uncategorized | Tags: , , , , | 4 Comments

What You Can Do in the Face of Devastation and Make a Difference

I received a very disheartening message. I want to share it with youeven though research statistics show that most people would prefer to see uplifting blog content. My feeling is there are just things I can’t ignore. I discount that, due to the immensity of a travesty, I can do nothing about it. That would be the easy way out, to push something aside.

I subscribe to Glenn Shepard’s blog Notes from the Ethnoground. Glenn is an ethnobotanist, medical anthropologist and filmmaker who lives in Brazil and has spent many years doing on-the-ground research in remote rainforest places. Yesterday his latest post ”A letter of protest: In defense of the rights of indigenous peoples and traditional populations in Amazonia” arrived via email. 

The post is about a proposed change to a law currently in the Brazilian House of Representatives “to make changes to Article 231 of the Brazilian Federal Constitution of 1988 defining the public interest in demarcating Indigenous Lands.” It has to do with ancestral land rights of the Indigenous peoples of Amazonia. If passed, it would take away many of their rights in favor of those who have encroached: cattle ranchers, mining operations and more.

Guarani People

Photo credit: Survival International

This is not a new issue. It has been going on for decades with terrible consequences. Not only is the rainforest threatened but Terena, Guarani and other Native peoples have been murdered in defending what is theirs. We rarely hear of these things because they don’t get reported. I did some research of my own and turned up this August 8 news article from the Guardian in the UK. It reports on the killing of a Guarani man believed by Survival International to have been ordered by a landowner, as well as other murders of Native peoples numbering “452 between 2002 and 2010, sharply up on the 167 killed during the previous eight years.” The article accuses the Brazilian government of “pandering to agro-business lobby rather than reallocating areas to indigenous peoples.”

Guarani and Kaiowa Indians are in conflict with ranch owners over the allocation of land in Brazil. Photograph: Celso Junior/AP

Guarani and Kaiowa Indians are in conflict with ranch owners over the allocation of land in Brazil.
Photograph: Celso Junior/AP

 If you’ve read this far, then you likely recognize a familiar story. Although the struggle of the Indigenous people of Brazil is especially heightened, similar things are happening in Native lands the world over. It’s a form of genocide. When the right to live on their own lands, grow their own crops and perform their own religious ceremonies is taken away, it’s devastating.

Have any of you ever lost a home? Been told your religious practices are evil, antiquated or ridiculous? Has your voice not been heard? Probably many of you have had such experiences. For traditional Native people, connection to ancestral lands, community, the foods they grow and ceremonies runs deep. It’s a matter of survival and what keeps them spiritually grounded. Take away these things and a sense of identity vanishes.

What to do about such things? It’s not an easy answer. Personally, I founded Kenosis Spirit Keepers  in 2007, a grassroots volunteer-run nonprofit organization, expressly because I believe so strongly in the contributions that these traditions make to the betterment of the world through continued existence.

Has it been a walk in the park to support projects we’ve committed to fund? No. We’ve had to be very creative to do so. I wish we were able to do so much more.

Does it feel to me as though my efforts and those of my board are like lonely raindrops in the wind? You better believe itespecially when I hear about such things as Glenn reported.

Yet, I can’t turn away. No matter how discouraged and tired I get…I just can’t. That’s because I truly believe the more people who feel the way I doand stay strong in that intentthat the tides will turn. We can make a difference. Looking back in history, I see the shift has happened too many times not to believe in what’s possible. I hold that you do, too.

***

Kenosis Spirit Keepers

To learn more about Kenosis Spirit Keepers and how you can help preserve Indigenous wisdom traditions, go here.

Categories: cultural interests, Indigenous Rights, Indigenous Wisdom, Sacred Reciprocity, Spiritual Evolution | Tags: , , , , | Leave a comment

Reflections on Fire and Allies

We all need allies—fellow travelers on the path—to connect with deeply. This is especially so when words don’t express what takes you beyond the everyday life to the one that has no form. Yet your allies do understand and can add their own stories that place you on common ground. I’m truly fortunate to have such people in my life. It’s not by accident. I’ve cultivated them, or we’ve cultivated each other, over time. This is a post that shares such a foundation.

Last week near dusk—the Hour of Power—my long-time friend Yaqin Lance Sandleben and I ventured into the forest. Yaqin is a Cherag, an ordained Sufi minister following the Chisti Sufi lineage of India. A number of years ago, we would meet periodically to meditate among the pines. This time was different though. We felt called to offer prayers in the wake of the Doce and nearby Yarnell Hill fires. We got as close as we could without overstepping the areas the Forest Service had closed to re-seed the burned places. Yaqin shared his own insights later with a message to his community. With his permission, I’ll share excerpts with you.

Granite Mountain

“Granite Mountain is a sacred mountain to me, and to many others. As a friend says, it is our mount Kailash, our Mount Meru.   It is quite different than the other mountains in our area and has an ancient old growth forest on top.  The fire, the day it began,  was whipped into a great frenzy by strong winds, going from less than a hundred acres to over 5000 acres burned or burning in one day.   The smoke was towering over Prescott.  I knew that at some point I would have to go to the mountain and meditate.  Seek understanding…Naturally when we meditate, we may hear many voices and ideas, and part of our awakening path is to develop discernment.  I pray for that wisdom.”

The area is filled with rock formations. We made our way to one of them and settled in, Granite Mountain rising up before us. Yaqin was quite content sitting next to a fallen tree while the black ants that covered it made a beeline to me. I finally decided it was an invitation to go elsewhere. I’m glad I did.

Close by I noticed a ponderosa pine so large it towered over any of the others in the area. A Grandfather. All the others were much younger. When I got closer I noticed the most curious thing. Its trunk was newly charred at the base and every bit of ground  within a fifteen foot radius was burned. Yet the other trees and bushes in the area weren’t touched, only small places of brush damaged. We were a distance from where the fire had been raging. I silently questioned if a spark had been carried on the wind.

I was drawn to to this Grandfather like a magnet. Its energy was extraordinary. I wrapped my arms around it, put my forehead against its trunk. Then moved to place my back solidly along its line of support. It had stories to tell. After walking slowly around its base I sat down on my haunches and gazed up at its high branches. That’s when I got the real sense of what it is to be stationery and know a threat is approaching that you could do little about—except perhaps to attract it. And it seemed to me, that this Grandfather, with all its resident energy, drew the fire to protect the others.

I knew I could share my impressions with another ally Mike Weddle, who lives in Maryland, initiated in the Kaqchikel and K’iche Maya traditions as an Ajq’ij, or Daykeeper and Spiritual Guide. He wrote back to me.

This is the way of the Ajq’ij, to pull the enemy near,

to resist using your power to cause them harm, to turn them into allies.

And shortly on the heels of Mike’s message, Yaqin shared this in his community message: “I settled into meditation and breath.  After a while, I began offering prayers of healing.  I practiced with the Medicine Buddha, offering healing. I felt intuitively that fire was a natural part of the life of the forest, causing harm to some beings, such as trees, birds, insects, and animals; but also a kind of purification, a natural cycle of life.

“I began asking questions to the Universe, at first about fire in the forest around me.  The first impression I received was a koan.

The memory of fire remains but not forever.

Fire 1 “As I sat and breathed, I felt this had more than one level, including describing the workings of the human heart, and that further contemplation is called for. When I opened the query again, gazing at Granite Mountain, I received a second, though quieter impression:

The mountain remains but not forever.

“That thought echoed down the halls of eternity. I continued meditation and breathing. After a while, I asked the forest beings, the invisible ones, whom Inayat Khan calls the ‘unseen beings,’  about the fire and whether it damages them or what their relation is to the fires, and I got a clear impression, a vision.  I saw that within the raging fire,  there are invisible fire beings, who are with the fire itself, and are a part of it, as other invisible beings are a part of the forest.  Perhaps they tend it, as it has been said that invisible beings tend every growing thing.

“I asked the invisible beings around me if they have fear or suffering with the fire, and the answer came fairly clearly…

They are our brothers.

Fire 2…’they’ referring to the invisible fire beings.  I am not sure gender is actually a part of their existence, maybe it was just how my mind interpreted the answer. I continued mediation, also watching large black ants wandering around a fallen tree, and the rock on which I sat.  Sometimes they wandered on me.  I could see a few smaller ones going into a hole in the tree, coming back out with very small pieces of wood from the hole they were digging tirelessly.

“I then asked the question: Is there a meaning to the Sacred Mountain in the heart of Prescott burning?  And I heard these quiet replies.”

The Mountain is.

Fire is.

Categories: Healing, Meditation, Sacred Reciprocity | Tags: , , | 1 Comment

Film Review: The Wild Parrots of Telegraph Hill

The Wild Parrots of Telegraph Hill

Documentary by Judy Irving

 Wild Parrots of Telegraph Hill

Before I watched this documentary I thought it might be an interesting piece on wild parrots in an urban setting. It’s that but much more. Mark Bittner is a homeless man who began feeding the wild parrot flock around Telegraph Hill in San Francisco. Over time he was able to develop a relationship with the birds and cared for those who were injured or sick. He brought them into the small apartment where he was squatting until they were well, giving them names. Through the filmmaker’s lens, we’re able to experience their separate personalities. There’s Mingus, a cherry head, who loves to dance to the blues. And Connor with his quiet regal manner, a blue-crowned parrot in a flock of cherry heads, too many others to name here. I don’t want to give away too much.

At the heart of the story is how Mark found inner peace and his place in the world through service to the parrots. There may be a message for many of us in this poignant and inspiring film.

View short clips on You Tube. Available via Netflix, Amazon and elsewhere.

Categories: Film Review, Personal Growth, Sacred Reciprocity, Spiritual Evolution | Tags: , , | Leave a comment

Worthy of What Really Matters

I particularly wanted to post this note on Independence Day, our national celebration, as a call for remembrance. The Prescott, Arizona area—my home community—has been devastated by loss. A week ago the Granite Mountain Hotshots successfully contained the Doce Fire without loss to human or domestic animal lives or homes. Just a few days later on Sunday, June 30, nineteen firefighters from this elite team lost their own lives fighting the Yarnell Hill Fire. There are no words to express the horror and deep sadness that I feel, and that collectively runs through this spot on the map. No pat sentiments about God’s plan work in these cases where such things happen. And I recognize that they do occur all over the world.

Prescott firefighters

Remembering our fallen Prescott firefighters.
Photo credit: Les Stukenberg/The Daily Courier.

 I am so heartened to see how the community has pulled together to support the evacuees from Yarnell, many whom have lost their homes,  and to raise funds for the families of these courageous firefighters.

candlelight vigil

Candlelight vigil on July 2.
Photo credit: Les Stukenberg/The Daily Courier.

When Andrew Johnson-Schmit, a well-known community arts organizer here, posted this note on his Facebook page, I had to share it  on mine as I believe the same: I am going to remember tonight the next time I despair about this community getting its act together. When I wonder if we really all just can’t get along. When I am tempted to think the trolls in the comment section of Dcourier.com are really indicative of Everybody’s Hometown. Our Hotshots didn’t stop to squabble about whose houses they were going to save, if they’d lived there long enough to qualify as local, if they spoke English well enough, if they voted for the right party’s views, they defended our community and died standing in the way of devastation, between the fire and their neighbors. We can be a community worthy of that kind of sacrifice. I know we can.

 The news today says that the Yarnell Hill Fire is now 45% contained, up from 8%, after covering 8400 acres and loss of 129 homes.

These fires and the resulting tragedy put memories of an anxiety-ridden time fully back in my face, as well as the gratitude that came of it. In 2002 I lived up in Ponderosa Park, a forested community just outside Prescott where the Indian Fire started at a campground on the other end of the road. I’d been staying in the tiny guest cottage of a friend with my three cats while my present home was being built, all things but those I deemed most important in storage.

I was in my Prescott office when I received a call from a long-time participant in my groups telling me about the fire racing toward the cottage. I fairly flew toward home—but the police wouldn’t let me past the roadblock. All I could think about was getting my cats out. We’d been through so much together, I couldn’t stand the thought of losing them that way. Then I remembered that my friend Marilyn Markham Petrich likely knew the back roads through the forest to get me there. She never hesitated. This whole event had a profound effect on me to the point that I wrote about it in my 2004 book Standing Stark.

 …Returning along the same road, we came to a high point. I turned and looked back to see a ridge of flames leaping into the air and billowing smoke filling the sky. Watching the news after getting to her house, we saw that, blessedly for the residents of the little area where I stayed, the strong winds had chanced to shift in the opposite direction. Those homes were saved, but the forest and another housing area closer to town were not so fortunate…Then a miracle happened. The winds that had been wildly spreading the fire died down. In the next days we had some rain. Not a lot, but enough to slow things down. Within a few days the fire was contained, just blocks from the downtown area. 

…That first night as I was settling down to sleep in my new temporary quarters at Marilyn’s home, with the cats plastered to my side, I was extraordinarily grateful that I was not one of those who suffered a personal loss. I also felt soundly blessed that I had such a friend who was willing to rush madly with me into a potentially dangerous situation without any reservations. Everyone should be so fortunate.

But I was also aware that the entire town had shared in a deep soul-searching as to what really matters. Indeed, stories filled the newspaper and conversations for weeks. Handmade signs in shop fronts and driveways were evident proclaiming gratitude to the Hotshots who had risked their lives to help us. That was before people seemed to forget the tragedy and returned to their normal lives.

However, I was left again with a real understanding of how transient everything is, how what we think permanent isn’t…

This time let’s not forget what is truly precious.

To echo what Andrew said: We can keep in our hearts what really matters. We can be worthy of the sacrifices others make for us. We can pass on the same support to others. I know we can.

*****

I’d love to hear your thoughts on what really matters and how you keep it in the forefront. Please comment below.

Categories: Gratitude, Healthy Living, Sacred Reciprocity | Tags: , , , | 4 Comments

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