Posts Tagged With: Re-Membering Process

Unearthing of the One Tribe

Early morning as it was drawing to a close, I reflected on our journey in the lowlands and highlands of Chiapas. I don’t quite know how to describe what I was feeling in this time of unearthing. Some mixture of great gratitude and overwhelm. Not overwhelm in the way I may sometimes feel it at home when I have too much to juggle at once. Rather it was the sense of overwhelm that comes when so much has happened of a sacred nature. You can bathe in it…even though the deeper meaning isn’t yet realized. But my mind’s attempts arising nonetheless.

Words broke through in staccato—bullet points. My hand flew to jot them down. Each one came illustrated with examples from the Maya people themselves.

Sacrifice

The religious officials in the Chiapas highlands carry cargo, a term to describe the responsibilities they take on to maintain their traditions, to care for the saints, to make sure the processionals occur as they have for many hundreds of years. And house the saints well between times so they will receive the prayers of believers. Carrying cargo is a burden taken on for the sake of the community, done through community. Tasks are divided and shift to others from year to year. No one person can do it all. The strain is too great on family finances and time away from the fields. These are not paid positions. They do it because, if they didn’t, a way of life that connects all things would otherwise disappear into the ether from which it emerged.*

Don Antonio

Don Antonio signaling the start of the balché ceremony.

For some, the sacrifice is ongoing. I always think of Don Antonio Martinez, the last Lacandón Maya Elder still holding the rituals of his people, faithfully feeding the gods, laying down the prayers to create balance in their rainforest home. His is not an easy life when others have turned away to foreign religions or the influx of material things, when he is nastily pressured by converts to give it all up. I’m guessing he hangs on because he recognizes his soul would otherwise suffer, and he cannot find it within himself to abandon the gods.

Humility

For me, a clear measure of an authentic spiritual leader or healer is humility. If their ego isn’t making pronouncements, they can approach their work with compassion. Connection to the person in front of them, and their community, is genuine.

Don Xun Calixto, Tzotzil Maya of San Juan Chamula, is a profound example of that for me. Over and over, I’ve witnessed his ability to put his fingers on a person’s wrist, someone he’s never met before, and listen to their blood. Then with gentle words tell them the exact nature of what they need to let go in order to heal, his words confirmed when his patient bursts into tears as he holds them in a comforting hug. The care and precision in which he lays the altar, and how he sinks to his knees and utters the prayers to carry the healing. Or the relief a patient displays when he tells them they can put fears aside because they’ve already overcome their trial.

Don Xun

Don Xun listening to the blood.

Today we don’t think of political leaders having humility, the opposite so often true. In ancient times though, Maya kings and queens were spiritual leaders and protectors. Indeed, they were seen as gods incarnate, walking among the people, making personal sacrifices. Humility displayed itself in the bloodletting rituals they undertook upon their own person. For the kings, thrusting a stingray spine through the penis; for the queens, through the tongue. Their blood dripped onto a paper then burned, taking the blood prayers for good crops to the heavens.

In the Popol Vuh there is explicit counseling against narcissism and pompous behavior. Seven Macaw, a demon parading as a god, claimed to be the sun and the moon. He terrorized the people and puffed himself up with jewels and arrogant proclamations. In doing so, he gained the attention of the Hero Twins, Hunahpu and Xbalanque, who noted his evil and summarily took him out.**

Courage

Depending on the nature of an affliction the people consult different types of healers. An example would be Doña Maria, a curandera who attended us during this recent journey. Her prayers will cure an earache or get an innocent man out of jail.

Doña Maria

Doña Maria making her initial prayers before beginning clearing sessions.

But when someone thinks the ailment involves the supernatural, particularly witchcraft, they will go to Don Xun. And if he diagnoses soul loss, he will be called upon to descend into the Underworld, through trance or dream, with a dire mission. Not an undertaking for the faint of heart, Don Xun must wrestle the person’s soul away from the Earth Lord. In this process his prayers return the patient to wholeness.***

Don Xun

Don Xun laying an altar.

Persistence

In the face of great adversity, I witness quiet persistence, strength and faith in the person of Don Antonio in the tiny village of Nahá.

Emerging from the 1990s genocide in Guatemala and Chiapas, the Maya have not been defeated. Particularly the Zapatista Movement in Chiapas is alive and well. Nonviolent marches protesting treatment by the Mexican government regularly occur. At the entrance of villages, signs proudly declare a people in resistance. While behind the scenes, Zapatistas are not merely complainers but have actively established their own Indigenous schools, clinics and pharmacies using traditional ways.

Integration

Throughout the Indigenous communities of Chiapas, I am consistently reminded of a way of life that integrates spirituality into everyday life…and the grounding that brings. As I’ve returned to my geographic home base in the US, I’m also reminded just how fragile that way of life is with the forces active to destroy. I am aware of the soul loss within this nation ⏤ including my own. And the need to pull together, so that we do not feel as though we are merely one…but the One Tribe.

♦♦♦

* Outward appearances may confuse outsiders into thinking Catholicism is being practiced in the Maya highlands. This is not the case. Instead the saints have been converted. Each one carries the meaning and stories the Indigenous people have given them, and the spirit of the forest permeates the church with trees (pine boughs), mist (copal incense) and fireflies (a multitude of candles).

**The Popl Vuh is the K’iche’ Maya creation story and historical references originally documented in Maya hieroglyphics, transcribed in the 16th century.

***One of the worst curses perpetrated upon someone is due to envy. One person seeks to usurp what another has and, through witchcraft, captures the soul and offers it to the Earth Lord. In the Tzoltil Maya religion, the Earth Lord rules the Underworld and owns all the natural resources. The Earth Lord, represented as a greedy ladino with a cowboy hat sitting on a bull, may grudgingly provide, but may also take away on a whim. In Chiapas when a shaman of Don Xun Calixto’s stature engages with the Earth Lord it is not done through hallucinogens or alcohol but, as described, through trance, dreams and prayer. These undertakings are every bit as real as anything in the material world involving battles and danger.

♦♦♦

All images in this article ©2017 Carla Woody. All rights reserved.

Save

Save

Categories: Global Consciousness, Gratitude, Indigenous Wisdom, Maya | Tags: , , , | 2 Comments

Encore – Following Energy: The Key to Your Navigational System

Rio Paucartambo

Rio Paucartambo Cusco Region, Peru ©1996 Carla Woody

Having heard that so many of us had a challenging 2016…in any number of ways…and since we’re at the start of 2017, I wanted to offer you a rerun of this article I wrote a few years ago.  It speaks of following energy, perhaps in a way you haven’t considered. And shares with you an annual tradition of mine⏤featured at the bottom⏤I’ve kept since I discovered it about five years ago. I find meaning and inspiration for the coming year in this way.

***

Several years ago, my friend Hilary Bee, a professional intuitive and spiritual teacher in the UK, told me that I have a strong inner navigational system guiding me. Over time, I’ve learned to trust it implicitly—even when the next step is obscured from my vision.

I call this navigational system intent, and it produces a high frequency of energy. I recognize completely when it’s communicating a path I am to take, choices to make. I’ve learned to recognize the energetic language. Equally, I’ve come to know over time when I’m straying from the path, or it’s time for an evolutionary change. A totally different level of energy accompanies that alert—and a nagging feeling something isn’t right. Of course, taking that fork in the road may initially produce chaos until order—and realignment—produces a deeper order.

I offer you this poem by C. P. Cavafy and then a caveat.

Ordinary people know what’s happening now,

the gods know future things

because they alone are totally enlightened.

Of what’s to come the wise perceive

things about to happen.

Sometimes during moments of intense study

their hearing’s troubled: the hidden sound

of things approaching reaches them,

and they listen reverently, while in the street outside

the people hear nothing whatsoever.*

 While I agree with Cavafy in that the majority of people may be completely unaware, or at least ignore signals, you have an opportunity always to live according to the wisdom of the gods. It’s a fine-tuning process but completely available to you. It requires that you pay attention and then the courage to deviate from any beaten path, sometimes to follow what you can’t readily see.

Here’s a rather dramatic example from my own life. Several years ago, I sponsored two back-to-back programs in Peru. During just one spiritual travel journey the energy is always strong from ceremonies, resident energy in sacred sites and more. With an additional one under my belt and little break between, the veil between the worlds had grown quite thin for me.

After the last group left for home, I was sitting in an Internet café in Cusco. It was the time of Inti Raymi, the festival of the sun, which transforms this usually placid former Incan Empire capital into masses of revelers, huge numbers coming from other locations. I knew that many pickpockets came from Lima to take advantage of the tourists during this time. Consequently, I took precautions. I carefully sat on my coat with my passport and money secured in an inside zipped pocket while I focused on email neglected for several days.

I had been at it for some time with people at computers on either side of me coming and going without any real attention on my part. But then I sensed something, noticing only the color green in my peripheral vision, and went back to my emails. Then again, slight movement out of the corner of my eye. A loud internal voice—not mine—said, Look down! I followed suit. My coat was hanging open, the inner pocket unzipped with passport and money gone!

Literally with no thought in my mind and seeing nothing to go after, I was out of my seat in a split second and onto the street thronged with thousands. Instead of raising a cry with no information to relay, something caused me to turn immediately into the small travel agency next to the Internet café. My hands had a life of their own, clamping onto the arms of two men standing just inside the agency, waiting in line. In a loud authoritative voice I stated, “My money and my passport! My money and my passport!”

They faced me then with shock on their faces as I continued to make the same demand. Both struggled in my grasp; my hands had become pincers of steel. Travel agents and other customers began to turn and get up from seats. The two men managed to turn me toward the entrance in their efforts to be free. One finally managed to duck out the door saying something to the other one, who slipped out of his jacket, leaving it in my hands.

Dropping it, I started to go after the pair but heard a woman’s voice saying, “Are these yours?” She held my passport, money pouch and the green jacket. I thanked her, as well as the others who had risen to aid me. Then I returned calmly to the café and resumed my correspondence.

That night I had a dream: Someone gifted me with a puma.**

As we entrain with a higher vibrational frequency, light energy doesn’t allow us to doubt or contract in fear. It is supreme and grounded. It has peripheral vision. Salk’a—as they call undomesticated energy in the Andes—induces clarity without thought, compassionate detachment and the warrior’s action. This is a state of being we can maintain.

I have a personal tradition. Either during winter or in the first days of spring I seek to remind myself of this Salk’a journey and store further inspiration for the long haul. I want to offer my tradition to you: Watch another of Cavafy’s poems, Ithaca, beautifully set to the music of Vangelis and the resonance of Sean Connery’s voice. This one I fully ascribe to.

********

“Poem by C.P. Cavafy, Collected Poems. Translated by Edmund Keeley and Philip Sherrard. Edited by George Savidis. Revised Edition. Princeton University Press, 1992.

**Known as puma in Peru, we also know this sleek animal as jaguar, cougar or mountain lion. In the Indigenous Andes, it represents how to effectively navigate the Kaypacha, or Middle World, the one we walk in our everyday life.

Categories: Energy Healing, Healthy Living, Indigenous Wisdom, Spiritual Evolution, Spiritual Travel | Tags: , , , , | Leave a comment

Film Review: Griefwalker

Griefwalker

Griefwalker

Directed by Tim Wilson

Tim Wilson went into the hospital for a routine procedure and ended up on life support, hanging to this existence by a thread. A friend heard and emerged from the wild to lay his medicine pouch on Tim’s body, then left. Miraculously, Tim recovered and went back to the life he’d led.

When his friend saw him again after so many months he said, “You don’t sound to me like a man who’s been given his life back.” And Tim woke up.

This Canadian documentary is presented against the backdrop of Stephen Jenkinson’s work with the dying. But points to the fact that we’re all dying the moment we’re born. What does it mean to embrace knowledge of our own mortality as a “prized possession” to ensure we live well—every day—and use that understanding to turn our lives around, to make good choices toward what really matters?

Stephen’s words cause us to consider, in Western culture, Death has been tidied up, kept at arm’s length…and how…as a result, this major life passage none can escape is laced with deep soul suffering.

I’ve watched this powerful film twice now and still sitting with all there is to contemplate. Highly recommend for everyone.

Streaming online free on Culture Unplugged. 1 hour 10 minutes.

For more on the work of Stephen Jenkinson, including books, recorded interviews and teachings, go to Orphan Wisdom.

 

Categories: Film Review, Healthy Living, Spiritual Evolution | Tags: , , , , | Leave a comment

When the Dream Just Isn’t Enough

I’ve just started reading Gloria Steinem’s new memoir My Life on the Road…and I’m held. Its grasp started with an excerpt on the jacket flap.

 When people ask me why I still have hope and energy after all these years, I always say: Because I travel. Taking to the road—by which I mean letting the road take you—changed who I thought I was. The road is messy in the way that real life is messy. It leads us out of denial and into reality, out of theory and into practice, out of caution and into action, out of statistics and into stories—in short, out of our heads and into our hearts.

 Steinem is now in her 80s…and she still travels. She writes how the word ‘still’ entered her life when friends would say: So you’re still traveling? As if it should have a timeline on it. It all started in childhood when her father would consistently throw the family in the car and take off cross-country to discover what they would find.

Reading just these first several pages is causing me to reflect on my own life—my own odyssey that has brought me to where I reside now…on the road…returning to ground the experiences at home for a few months or less before resuming.

It occurs to me that many of us need to be given ‘permission’ to travel, to step out of the comfort zone called home. I mean travel in the sense of journey…not as a tourist but to viscerally experience the land and people…to take a risk…to open your mind. It’s not a crazy or frivolous pastime. I’ve traveled in 31 countries and 35 US states. A good number are still on my list. The road is also in front of me. I’ve made friends and created deep relationships. I’ve gone places few venture—over and over.  Many have entered my bloodstream and reside in my heart: shaping my lifework, writing and art. Probably other expressions as well.

It’s my way of life: my choice. But my introduction was not unlike Gloria Steinem’s.

Both my folks came from a small town in East Texas. Neither had been exposed to other ways of life outside their geographical area but were well familiar with tough times. I think it must have been the need for more than just survival that initiated their leaving. My dad joined the Air Force not long before I was born. Within seven years we moved four times. But the big one that opened the road for me was our move to Paris for nearly five years. By that time my dad had become an attorney, speaking French with his Texan accent, defending GIs in French courts.

Passport Early

On our way to Paris.

My father had a place to go to every day, an office and colleagues. My mother didn’t. I put myself in her place and what it must have been like for a small town girl who spoke no French to step on the Metro, alone with her child in hand, and travel like any other Parisian in that big city. We did it consistently. I have distinct remembrances. Some of my fondest memories of childhood and adolescence are traveling through the Spanish and Italian countryside, a month at a time, and all the shorter trips as a family we were able to make, wandering the streets in tiny villages, eating unfamiliar food, hearing languages strange to my ear. This is one of the biggest early gifts my parents gave to me—curiosity and appreciation—even though I’m sure they didn’t realize it at the time.

After we returned to the US, I was stationery between the years 14-17. But ventured out after high school graduation to make the requisite trip to Myrtle Beach and the Smoky Mountains, my mom going with me after a friend pooped out. Then at 24 I moved to Tehran to work for six months…and I’ve been on the road ever since.

Machu Picchu

Machu Picchu, 1996.

I could never be just an armchair traveler, dreaming of the journey but never embarking. Obstacles? That’s just the mind creating distractions, attempting to keep you mired in the status quo. It’s a signal of being on the threshold, especially so the louder the internal dialogue. But if you move through your fear—however it presents itself…thoughts of financial scarcity, overwhelm, safety concerns, the myriad rationalizations—ahhh…there the journey presents itself.

When I started this blog in 2012, I posted Spiritual Travel: Destination or Process? which I originally wrote for my newsletter around 2005. I find it still to be true today…and more.

 

 

Categories: Personal Growth, Spiritual Evolution, Spiritual Travel | Tags: , , | 2 Comments

Our Visible Wings

I came across the inspirational short Invisible Wings when it was first featured on Karma Tube in 2015 and have watched it several times since. It touches a soft spot in me. It opens my heart, and I feel the flow of my own life moving through me. It generates reflection and gratitude…all channeled through the words of a 65-year-old tea seller named Vijayan against visually beautiful backdrops.

His use of the metaphor ‘journey’ in the film is important as well as the way he validates it. A bona fide journey isn’t over smooth ground but fraught with challenges along the way. If we meet those obstacles eye-to-eye, it encourages our growth, nurtures the spirit and frees our dreams…to manifest. If we don’t, it harnesses the soul.

All this from a man many may overlook: the owner of a small stall in India where he pours tea, his wife Mohana working beside him. They appear to have little in the way most would see them. But Vijayan carries a dream— to travel the world, to open his heart and mind to other lands and ways of living—and his wife shares that dream. They have traveled the globe. Even though, at the start of their marriage, she’d never been out of her own hometown.

It takes courage to face the Unknown, to step out of your comfort zone. But the comfort zone so quickly widens when you do…no matter that others think you’re crazy or try to hold you back. There is so much beauty to be experienced when you ignore those who remain in the corral.

Whether you take the initiative to make life happen or sit back and let life happen to you, it’s a choice—even if you don’t think the latter is. And while the title of this tribute to Vijayan and Mohana is called Invisible Wings, the wings any of us wear are visible and how we wear them: fully extended, clutched to the side, or somewhere in-between. Others easily see them if they pay attention. And we ourselves can feel them.

Nothing is more valuable than the felt presence of your own unleashed spirit, intimacy with family and friends…and a life fully lived…however you travel. I’m sharing this little film here—short in time but saying so much—with intent that it brings to you the sweetness and consideration it has for me.

Categories: Film, Gratitude, Spiritual Travel, Travel Experiences, Uncategorized | Tags: , , , | Leave a comment

Book Review – Georgia: A Novel of Georgia O’Keeffe

GeorgiaI’ve read biographies on Georgia O’Keeffe. But this is different. You might think because this is a novel it’s a poof piece. It’s not. The author portrays the relationship between O’Keeffe and her patron-photographer-husband Alfred Stieglitz from the first enchantment to its lingering disintegration. It’s written from the painter’s perspective. While no one can ever get completely inside someone else’s head, it’s evident that Dawn Tripp has done the extensive research necessary that makes the book plausible. Believable. This is essentially a book about the precise care and manipulation Stieglitz gave to the creation of O’Keeffe’s public persona from the point she was moldable to when she was not. It’s a story laid against the backdrop of their great talents and marriage—the play between Steiglitz’s control and O’Keeffe’s internal conflict. It’s about the position women were historically placed and their treatment … and how this woman claimed her rightful recognition as one of the greatest American artists. Perhaps there’s an argument that O’Keeffe wouldn’t have made it there without Stieglitz. But I don’t find merit in it. She was a force all her own.

As an artist myself I appreciate the way the author wrote from an artist’s sensitivities on the form. That, too, made the book believable.

…It occurs to me now that art is exactly this: making what’s unseen but all around, visible. Having that sort of faith…

And it pained me to read what she wrote of O’Keeffe going blind. She enlists the gardener’s help:

…to lead my left hand onto the first sheet of paper… He leaves and I’m alone. I paint shapes—a wave, a circle—the circle slides like grace over the page. I make forms that echo those early abstract forms I made when I was no one, and it occurs to me that art is a separate country, outside the body, outside time, like death or desire, an element beyond our physical selves we are traveling toward…

 

Available on Amazon and elsewhere.

 

Categories: Book Review, Creativity Strategies, Visual Arts | Tags: , , | 5 Comments

The Fierce Quiet Place

We give a gift to ourselves when we allow connection with our innermost being. This is the one untouched by circumstances but fierce in its inviolate sanctity. The silence in this place is so loud you can hear it, so palpable you can feel it. And yet there’s no adequate way to express the comfort and inspiration it brings. Comfort here meant as nurturing. Coupled with inspiration, it urges us on…through…and beyond…to what we can’t yet know. And the circumstances of our lives⏤the challenges⏤fall away. It doesn’t mean they’re not there but are approached differently. A state of grace through the chaos and surrounding confusion.

And that Fierce Quiet Place wants expression in any way we can. It creates a portal and finds its way into the material world through narrative art, music, poetry and prose, ceremony and ritual…a touch…complete presence we give to others. It’s funneled from non-ordinary reality that exists out-of-time to land here.

This is what I’ve recognized more and more. And knowing that when I give myself over to that Fierce Quiet Place the most beautiful things happen. I live from a deeper place. I meet people who hold similar expression. I want to introduce you to one of them through the way it happened.

In February I completed This Is My Walk in Life, an oil painting. Over the course of its creation, it came to life. The portal opened. A silent dialogue ensued and conveyed itself as best I could onto canvas. It was not a casual process.

This is my walk in life

Title: This Is My Walk in Life Oil on canvas, 20×24. ©2016 Carla Woody. All rights reserved.

This is the description I gave it.

We all have a walk in life, perhaps chosen before we set our feet on Mother Earth. And amidst hardships there’s unexpected joy. If we open our eyes to it, there’s magic in fleeting moments when we truly experience what life is. This painting is inspired by the Lacandón Maya women of the rainforest village of Nahá in Chiapas, Mexico.

Then at the end of March I met Laura Weaver. She came from Colorado to take part in the fire ceremony guided by Tat Apab’yan Tew during our Spirit Keepers Series. I didn’t know she’s an accomplished poet. I’m quite sure she didn’t know I’m an artist and writer.

Then a few weeks ago I saw a poem she wrote in March.

 A Way of Walking

There is a way of walking

from point A to point B

as if there is nothing

of significance in between.

 

We have been taught to move

in straight lines, to lay life out

along a grid of efficiencies.

But there is another way to navigate.

 

This way carves a serpentine road

full of mysterious meetings.

Along this path, the directives come

from the world itself speaking

 

through all of its voices. And because

something else is guiding us—because

we are listening—at the next crossroads

we turn left instead of right—

 

and find a never before seen village

where an old man harvests golden apples

he offers to those who pass by. And over

the silken hills, cowbells sound out

 

like ancient monk song, and the last

of the sunlight breaks through the rainclouds

so that everything is shimmering and awake.

And the oak tree that cracked in last

 

night’s storm is dripping with honeycomb

and bee hum. And as this moment swells

and blooms open with its own fullness,

suddenly the idea of Point A & Point B

 

makes no sense at all. For now

you have no idea who you are

or if you have arrived. You only know

that you are everywhere.

I couldn’t help but note the strong similarities in the titles of our respective works and common message. Then yesterday I read her poem Making Passage which reaches an even deeper platform. I urge you to read it. It will speak to your soul.

I don’t think I’m presuming. When the Fierce Quiet Place is fully expressed we all say the same thing. Only the variation in our medium is different.

Earlier I described Laura as an accomplished poet but that’s not quite sufficient. Her words have a way of gently, persistently making their way inside us on a path all their own and touches the universal. And—in my experience—I feel heard. Even held.

 ♦♦♦

♦︎ The reprint of A Way of Walking is used with permission. Subscribe to Soul Passages and receive Laura Weaver’s poetry as she publishes.

♦︎ My original oil This Is My Walk in Life is currently available. Inquire for more information. Archival prints are available here.

 

Categories: Arts, Creativity Strategies, Spiritual Evolution, The Writing Life, Visual Arts | Tags: , , , | Leave a comment

Book Review: Traveling with Pomegranates

Traveling with PomegranatesI had just finished reading The Invention of Wings and was so taken with its sensitivity and historical significance that I went online to see what else Sue Monk Kidd had written. That’s when I discovered Traveling with Pomegranates, a memoir written by mother and daughter. What initially attracted me was its framework: spiritually oriented travel to sacred sites. Since I sponsor spiritual journey programs myself, it was a natural draw. I found so much richness in this container.

The content is drawn from the personal journals of Sue Monk Kidd and daughter Ann Kidd Taylor as they journey to sites in Greece, Turkey and France, touching down in-between at home in South Carolina, over a few year period. Mother is poised on the cusp of her fifties. Daughter is barely twenty. Both face age-related life events, desires and the all-too-often wrestling…internal questioning… that comes as a result. I suspect they would have engaged with these universal aspects anyway. But the process was marked out in two ways that probably intensified it and kept it rolling. First, it was the awareness they gave to each other during their travels, based on their relationship, even as they were going through their own worry and self-discovery. The perspective and emotional content based on age was prominent.

The other significance had to do with the way each of them engaged the iconic historical and mythological feminine figures based on their travel to particular sacred sites. And how the unfolding carries forward over time, strengthening itself through further focused intent and journeying. I know this through my own experiences and witnessing others in my travels who do the same.

The special treat for me was Sue Monk Kidd’s disclosure of her own process as a writer—inspirations and tribulations. At that point, she was known for nonfiction, kicking up a bit of a fuss in theological circles with The Dance of the Dissident Daughter. Yet her heart called out to write novels. She’s frank about the self-doubt but finally plowing forward anyway. We don’t often think about bestselling authors or others of acclaim in that light. It makes her human in our eyes, encourages us to stay the course.

This is a book that caused me to reflect on my own stage of life: where I’ve been, the Great Unknown yet to unfold, and opportunities to embrace living even more fully.

Available in print and ebook on Amazon and elsewhere.

 

 

Categories: Book Review, Spiritual Evolution, Spiritual Travel, The Writing Life | Tags: , , , | Leave a comment

A Word

This is the time when many of us look back over the last year to note how things have evolved…and to the future for what we want to come into our lives next. Goal-setting is just too dry and linear for me. There’s no juice to it. Besides, it reminds me of all those many strategic planning retreats I facilitated with executives and their managers when I was an organizational development consultant so many years ago. I think they despised the sanctioned process as much as I did. Then after all that drudgery the plans always ended up in a drawer somewhere, merely lip service paid. By the way, that’s one of the major reasons I stepped out of that line of work. It was like banging my head against the wall—and I’d much rather put my attention where it can make some kind of difference.

I prefer the organic, a framework that gives rise to things I couldn’t predict but end up having so much more effect on evolution, maybe revolution—my own and others’—than I ever could have dreamed up. There’s a core element to it, a sort of intent. A few years ago, I shared an excerpt from my book Standing Stark in a post called The Tasking relating to this subject. The first few lines are below.

Set your intent and let it go. Your intent is your beginning. Worrying about the details detracts from the intent. In your strong intent, the attraction will take care of the details.

I want to offer you a ritual that leads in this direction. I am part of a small women’s circle. We gather in a member’s home once a month, have deeply personal conversations and share a meal. I have much gratitude for these women. There’s trust that goes beyond mere friendship. We hold space for each other in a way I’ve not ever been held except by my folks. For the last few years in December we’ve come together for special purpose. I don’t think they’ll mind if I tell you. Good things need to be shared. And the process is also similar to what I’ve suggested to students over the years.

We each choose a word for the next year. Not just any word. Not one taken lightly—because we’ve seen well enough through experience how the word will make appearances in our lives in ways that shape us. It will bring experiences in the mundane, the beautiful, the difficult. It acts as a teacher, and through this learning we are consciously involved in our own process and communion with the Infinite. It’s for those who want to delve deeply.

I can liken it to the wazifas of the Sufi tradition. Through wazifa practice, chanting one or more of the Ninety-Nine Beautiful Names of Allah, you’re essentially calling in an attribute, one you ask to open within yourself.

The difference here is that you don’t have to chant the word, although you could use it in meditation or some other way to remind yourself. The beauty is, that once you’ve chosen your word, you’ve made a declaration. The word has been released to the ether and will come back to you as most beneficial. Note beneficial doesn’t necessarily mean easy.

Apparitions

Apparitions. Mixed media on panel. ©2014 Carla Woody

A personal example from December 2014: I knew I’d been hovering at a threshold for quite some time. I’d been patient for a few years. But I was also quite ready to step through and get on with it…whatever it was. For 2015 I chose: Momentum. In my personal translation I view momentum as something that builds upon itself, a movement that keeps on delivering. It did and will likely continue since I’ve embraced it.

When I look back on my last year I’m astounded at the turn my life began to take almost immediately. It started with the depth and breadth of the container we engaged with during the January Maya program. Within a few months I walked the Camino de Santiago, one of the most difficult yet beautiful things I’ve done for myself. I knew this going in.

Through the summer I recovered and integrated but was aware the pilgrimage wasn’t yet complete. There was another part that was to come. It would determine my level of integration to date and carry its own outcome, which it did and laid the groundwork for something else. If you haven’t already read about the happenings during the October-November initiation journey in Bolivia and Peru, take a look at A Hopi Discovery in Bolivia and A Vision Comes. In this entire year-long process my creativity and relationships have deepened; I’ve gained an added state of presence that I’m shown in so many ways large and small. I feel different. I’ve been graced. And it looked many different ways over the course of the year.

So it may come as no surprise that in December during our special purpose gathering…after sitting with my choice for 2016, considering carefully, I chose: Grace. With all its many nuances—potential ways it may visit—to polish any rough edges, this is my choice.

Choosing a word to inform your year isn’t necessarily for the faint of heart but does come with untold benefits in the long-run. If you’re tempted to invoke yours, I encourage it. Such an act enlivens you.

 *****

If you want to choose a word but just the right one remains elusive, take a look at the Positive Qualities Chart. It shows root and related qualities. This is a tool I offer students during my Navigating Your Lifepath program. I notice the chart’s author now has one for Divine Attributes as well.

 

 

 

 

 

Categories: Creativity Strategies, Spiritual Evolution | Tags: , , | Leave a comment

A Hopi Discovery in Bolivia

It was the first day of The Heart of the Andes. This year’s spiritual travel program included Bolivia as our starting point with culmination in Cusco, closely replicating the initiation journey of the first Inka couple Manco Capac and Mama Ocllo. Directed by their father-god Viracocha, they sought a most holy place to build a city—a place of the sun and navel of the world.*

Prior to setting foot in Tiwanku, said to be the Creation Place where Manco Capac and Mama Ocllo first emerged, we made a stop. On a high windy ridge overlooking the area—a ritual site— Q’ero paq’o friends led a despacho ceremony. Offering sacred cornmeal to each of us, Hopi Suhongva Marvin Lalo made his own prayers to the land as we all released our intent to the winds.**

Marvin had begun to share his feelings and his mission for coming on this journey.

Hopi Elders talk about and remind generations after generations of Hopi oral history, including the migration stories of various clans after the flooding of Palatkwapi, a unknown ancient village located somewhere in the south. Exact routes, established villages, and events have long been forgotten with time. Still, ancient ceremonies remain intact with clans responsible for carrying religious ceremonies through thousands of years of migrations to present-day Hopi villages where the ceremonies are still practiced today.

The Heart of the Andes journey offered an opportunity to connect with ancestral history, to visit the land of the ancients and its descendents, the Q’ero. To what extent my experience would take me, I didn’t know. The first despacho ceremony, I experienced a strong connection as I was presented with a Chakana; a sacred stone necklace and woven cords tied to my wrist. I gave thanks with offerings of my hooma.

At Tiwanku, Marvin already noted the possibility of his own people having set foot on this land. We wandered the ruins, a place of ancient mystery. We were all especially moved in a ritual square, the interior lined with stone faces—a portal perhaps.

Finally pulling ourselves away, in the last half hour before closing we ventured over to an adjacent site. Puma Punku may be the biggest mystery of all. Some conjecture it may have been a docking point, as thousands of years ago Lake Titicaca also covered this area. Now what was left were huge toppled stone slabs and much smaller structures fashioned with extraordinary precision … seemingly impossible for those times. It cannot be explained to this day.

And it was here that Marvin—who had traveled south all the way from Hopi Land on a mission for signs that his people had passed this way—found the Hopi migration petroglyph. The one that was known to point the way to his ancestors. The one that pointed north.

 

Atypical of other petroglyphs I’ve seen all over the US Southwest or elsewhere, it was large. I’d say three feet, maybe more. Also curious, there was a large serpent petroglyph in front of it, as though verifying the direction.

Even that large, it was easy to miss. The sun was at that point in the day when its rays glare as it’s headed toward the horizon ready for the night. Light bounced off rock surfaces, washing out details. Even with sunglasses my eyes were at its mercy. I missed it.

But not Marvin. He zeroed in on a symbol he knew to be his people’s…and his hair was on fire.

Hopi Migration Symbol

Hopi migration petroglyph at Puma Punka, black and white to better view. Not pictured in its entirety. Nor is the serpent petroglyph pictured. Photo credit: Janet Harvey.

What does this mean exactly? In 2008 Hopi Harold Joseph came on our program that included Puno. On the Peruvian side of Lake Titicaca, we went by boat to the reed islands. There Harold saw the reed boats with serpent heads that he knew from Hopi oral history. He took a replica back to Hopi to show his father-in-law, the last great oral historian of the Tribe…who got tears in his eyes when Harold presented him with an artifact that he already knew.

For Marvin and his Elders, how do you explain the presence of the Hopi migration symbol at Puma Punka if the Hopi had not been there? He talked with excitement of sharing this discovery with the Elders. When our guides spoke of a great city that once existed in this region, now lost, and the great flood that took it, he listened. Geologically, it appears valid. The same story exists in his oral history. The locals even raised the idea that the place we know as Atlantis and the great city they cite are the same.

After we came home, Marvin offered his words, to be included in this documentation, more overview of his time with us in a land he found not to be foreign to him.

The Q’ero and spiritual guides honored me by inviting me to sit in on the ceremonies and observe. I recognized the po.nga (altar) and offerings to be similar to Hopi. At one point I was asked to pray with my hooma for them: to ask the deities’ especially Hopi to help and assist the people to prosper. I quietly prayed, gave offerings of hooma, drank the cool tasty water and bathed symbolically at the springs.

Each day I visited archeological sites with our group and host. Visiting the great Titicaca Lake, to hear a local legend of a great city, which was flooded thousands of years ago sitting at the bottom of the lake. The more I saw, the more I was reminded of how the structures, stone walls, the land and historical stories are similar in the Hopi Southwest. The migration symbol is common to the Southwest but seeing it in South America helps support our Elders’ stories of Hopi migration from the south: ‘Palatkwapi.’

Suhongva Marvin Lalo

Suhongva Marvin Lalo, Island of the Moon. Photo credit: Carla Woody.

When we know our origins, it grounds spiritual identity. We know our place in the world through all the places our people traveled, the ground their feet have touched. It goes beyond mere belief. I’m not sure the word ‘faith’ is even sufficient.

And when you’ve followed something that you know, even as you don’t know what’s ahead or why…and it comes to some kind of fruition in a way you couldn’t even have imagined…that instills something for which I have no words.

That’s what happened for me on this journey. Next year it will be ten years since an eagle and condor flew together overhead at Huaypo Lake outside Cusco after a despacho ceremony with Q’ero friends. And I had an immediate vision of bringing Hopi people to Peru on my 2007 program…not knowing any Hopi…not knowing it was their migration path…not knowing how it would ever happen…not knowing of the Eagle Condor Prophecy.

I have no words.

********

* Viracocha, Creator-Sun God, is also known as Inti.

** Q’ero paq’os (meaning priests, mystics and/or wisdom keepers) traveled to Bolivia from their home in the high Peruvian Andes as sponsored guests and experience the site of their origin for the first time. At important points in the journey they guided despacho ceremonies, a prayer ritual.

Suhongva Marvin Lalo of Walpi, First Mesa in Northern Arizona was our sponsored Hopi guest for the purpose he mentions in this article. Marvin consults for the Hopi Cultural Center in validating sacred sites and artifacts.

For more on why Kenosis Spirit Keepers has been sponsoring Indigenous guests on our spiritual travel programs, go here.

 

Categories: Gratitude, Hopi, Indigenous Wisdom, Spiritual Travel | Tags: , , , | 6 Comments

Blog at WordPress.com.

%d bloggers like this: