A conversation from within

As I lay in bed the other night this conversation was continually running through me.... it seemed as if it lasted for hours and eventually I had to write it down.....frustratingly though..as with many paintings I see within... the words did not flow in true honoring of the living moment

I sat in the room with only morning's promise for light and these words that follow are the best that I could come to expressing.... the conversation within.........

"No matter the span of our Life here there is going to come a time when we have to make a journey... no one else can take it for us.

It seems also that however we have decided to except or disregard faith in our Lives we are going to face ourselves when that moment comes.

Imagine standing..or sitting before a great presence of Love and then feeling that within yourself and realizing it is the very essence of Life. An essence all too easily suffocated in this world.

Then .. laid out before you is your Life.. every moment. As you gaze upon them you can feel their impact on the world about you..on other's hearts..on the land..maybe an animal that was as a pet or a bird with an injured wing... you get to feel the joy of that tree's spirit as you climbed it and rested within it's shade  during a summer's day.

Maybe the excitement in each wag of your dog's tail as they greeted you... allowing to feel the unconditional Love they were offering you.

Then you feel the pain..the shame as you see the moment when you hit them. All they were being was themselves.

Maybe you stood up and protected Life from harm..... as a humble warrior.

Imagine all those petty things..the jealous acts that hurt another.The times of ego that led you to believe your Life as more important then an other's. The cold shoulders to an other's need for help. The times of judgment on others... telling them they are less than. Violent words spat from your tongue or lies to ruin another while honoring yourself.

Maybe it seemed as if wearing different masks for different people.... but beneath it is always you.

Remembering tears you shed for strangers because your heart felt their suffering as they passed on the street.

It's not about perfection and we all have tests,struggles,failings and victories...... but we are also responsible for how we choose to react or act. To do so knowing it to be cruel,self-honoring,deceitful,abusive,corrupting of Love..... oppressive....

........There will come that time..we cannot escape yourselves ..our soul carries every moment.

So maybe now,in this Life we should ask ourselves if we can face all that we have done and are..

This Life is not about You,I,Us,Him,Her or Them.. it is about All..it is about Everything with spirit."

Much love and Prayers Everyone.

Tiospaye, Family

Sometimes it seems that when we consider ourselves at peace it is really because in truth we are hiding from something.
A fear we haven't faced.
A forgiveness we haven't embraced.
A wound we have allowed to become infected.
A crutch we have grown too used to.
It could be something so small we choose to over look it or something so big we deny it.... then again,it could be something we are completely missing.
I remember being asked how I was feeling by Ate and my reply was 100%.... Ha! was the response.. if you have never experience completeness how can you claim to feel 100%?

Recently I found myself surrendering to 'other's' influence.. a guiding hand or hands. All day I was aware of colored lights around me... I put offerings of coffee,food and tobacco out.My natural instinct was that Ate was close by... so I prayed.
As evening came I still saw them and without thought I followed what my heart was asking of me.... before long I found myself gazing upon a picture of a woman who I knew was my sister.I hadn't seen her for many years and we had spoken last over the phone some 16-18 years ago.
I wrote asking if she was my sister... one or two days passed and she replied.... yes.
This has led me to my brother,nieces....family.....Healing... and a lot of time on fb chat.

I must quickly tell of the first time I wrote to Sam...after speaking with my sister I received a friend's request from Sam.I responded immediately and then sent a family request as my cousin. I quickly realized that it would actually be nephew and so wrote another with an apology.... the reply was... that's ok but actually I'm a girl!

My life has not seemed normal when others hear me tell of the road I've walked. All our journey's are powerful no matter how they appear on the outside.There is the road to knowing our own hearts.There is the road to our roots and the blood.There is the road to understanding love.... there are roads.

I have found,since a very small child,that there is a road that our spirit has travelled and sometimes the body we are in does not seem to lead back in the same direction as our spirit. This has been with my every breath and footstep.I have searched for the answer. In the Inipi the wanagi welcomed me home. The hearts and smiles of the people also.... I found a deeper acknowledgement of Wakan Tanka the Great Mystery ......and unconditional faith in Tunkasila.

Family gives us a foundation from where we can grow. Family should be our shelter when life is as a fierce storm. A forever spring of love when the world becomes cold to us.... sadly family has become many things to many people. To some the word brings fear and tears...wounds and scars...to others it is the source of survival and wisdom.

Family should be the last stronghold to oppose the tactics of 'Divide and Conquer'....

So, after all these years I faced the fear of difficult questions.I asked for forgiveness and it seems any wounds are healing. I feel lighter and as my niece said... the family feels complete now.
There is a peace that is not false... it is the truth of bloods uniting within me. No longer does my life feel divided. I cannot explain why the road has taken this long to come to such a place of healing. When I reflected upon it I felt disappointed that so much time has passed but I embrace this moment.

So now I pray that this will spread... touch upon all the hearts of my family.. both here and across the big water.
I pray old wounds between families of the Oyate will heal... that our Nation will become as one again.. that all children will be embraced as everyone's and each family circle will connect and created the sacred hoop of the Lakota.

I would never be at peace if I had not overcome many things... to realize the healing of the whole is greater than ourselves yet it gives back 10 fold and soon our own personal fears melt away like the darkness with the rising sun.

A Winter Zombie Land

Finally it has truly snowed in this country... it's not too much,about 2 ft but they ain't used to it so everything is coming to a standstill.
I still remember,with cold chills in my bones,the winters on the Rez. It dropped to the -20's easy. The wind cut through all layers and hair would turn brittle.

There was of course the winter nights when I would be digging the Sweat Lodge out of the snow and getting a fire going.Stepping out from the Inipi at the end with just shorts into the snow and night air. it was always worth it as the stars seemed to sparkle even brighter and good prayers had been shared.

....back to the present and the experience from today's expedition for sledging....

Here in England it doesn't take long to see the frailties and this wonderful pure blanket upon Unci Maka uncovers as well covers.
They were rationing the milk,all bread was gone from every store's shelves and other basics were scarce if not disappeared completely. Everything had pretty much closed down and most cars sat abandoned. adorned with a bloating and softening of form as the snow gently settled on the first surface that greeted each flake.

The sledging was fun... especially having spun about 180 and thus sliding backwards down the hill. soon time passed and the feet of children were being to hurt as the wet,cold snow bit into them.
So with flushed faces,coffee on the mind and icy water seeping under and between the clothing layers we started back. Exaggerated steps took us through the deep snow until upon the road.

As the only 4x4 car I had seen was flaunting it's snow gripping abilities I heard how dampened noises had become. There was no other traffic to be heard and just the sound of feet upon snow and the waterproof pants rubbing as people walked.
We were approaching a bridge that took the road over the motorway and scattered people were walking towards us. It was unusual to see so many people out walking.Most drive their cars everywhere or hide in their little boxes.

It was eerie... I was struck with the feel of them all being the walking dead.They felt soulless and most had expressionless faces.. just the quiet of feet upon snow. I looked ahead and down the long road that led to the village up another hill. Cars lined the side of the road. Dark,shuffling forms moving.

I felt the sense of seeing a future not too far away. I felt so alive compared to these others.
Luckily I had the company of my brother,two of his kids,a friend and two of his also. We had life. we were smiling,chatting.... but all three of us felt the same thing... this was like a Winter Zombie Land.

To plant a seed

Look upon the humble seed.... everything it is, every generation before and the gift of bringing forth in it's life more seeds for the generations to come.

Let it sit within your palm and truly feel the life, the possibilities you hold. It asks only one thing. To be connected with the earth....the Mother to everything.

Know it's roots and from where they grow best. seek such a place and ask our Mother if you can open her so as to welcome this seed. Make an offering and then feel with your hands. Create that place from where new life shall grow.

Offer a prayer and give water, the first medicine to our Mother and place the seed. Ask her to nurture this life and nourish it with the Love only a mother knows. The earth is returned and the seed enters the darkness of the womb and there shall stay. Growing, unfolding like the spiral and circle of life.

Offer prayers to the Sun,the winds and the waters. Ask them to take pity upon this life that yearns to grow. Ask them to bring their gifts, calling out and encouraging the journey to birth from the earth and stand with Creation.

May the Cloud Nations bring the blessing rains and shall they seep into our Mother. Bathing the new life.

May the Four Winds strengthen it when born from the earth.

May the Sun call it from our Mother, giving it's energy to it.

So let a seed rest within your palm and listen to it's dreams... give it a chance to grow into all that it can be and will offer to the world.

Elephants and Rain

I was woken this morning by the sound of children... they were just playing but the way these houses are... it sounded like they had shape shifted into Elephants.
My eyes opened and saw no greeting from the sun.

"What the... it's still night." yep, I had woken as crabby Uncle.

Anyway, my two nephews and their father came downstairs. Curtains were drawn and the sky was still dark... but there,just at it's beginnings was daybreak. I let the crabbiness go (never lasts with me) and made some coffee.I found myself grateful that I was awake as the new day birthed upon the sky and shadows stretched and melted.

It reminded me of a moment with my father. I was coming home from work when lightning flashed and the rains released from the clouds. I was soaked in seconds and cursed all the way home.
I enter our apartment and let out a stream of complaints about how wet I was and that the rain could have waited a few more minutes. What a fool.
My father was sat in the front room and just listened until the moment when I looked across to him and I saw that eyebrow raised... oh no.

"Who do you think you are to complain about the Wakinyan and the rain they bring? That's family. Now get yourself outside and offer some tobacco... apologise to them."

I went outside, we had a roof garden, and stood in the rain with my arm out stretched, tobacco in hand and bare foot, praying.

This morning I was bought the wonder of greeting the day. It was cold and I was tired but I was also blessed. So I thank my nephews for just being themselves and apologise for a moment of crabbiness.

many roads

It's been a long time since I wrote anything........... I'm not sure I'm really ready too yet.
In the space between here and the last entry I have traveled down many roads. No matter their direction,whether toward the setting sun or embracing the dawn, there was no escaping the hill.

The spirits became flesh and the grandma sang as I cried.
They told me to take just that one prayer to the hill.... all night.. that one prayer.
The stars watched over me while the Moon was dark.
The wind spoke as did the frost upon the grass that fled the warmth of day's light.

I still have dust from the road and blood from the prayer.

I have the smell of horses about me and parched lips of the prairie.

I have caused pain.
I bought many smiles...... but I bought pain.
......many roads.

Tongue

I've been coming to this place for several days now... I get ready to write something and then pull away.
Sometimes because richer conversations have been taking place. Filled with discovery, shadows,playful teasing and a long road almost Home.
Sometimes I have hesitated through the power of words.

Words are both spoken and heard but that does not always mean both are in rhythm... words spoken will touch each who listen in different ways, personal ways and I have learned a hard lesson of recent. Words spoken without hearing them first from the heart of they who were going to hear them. Words spoken without the intention nor meaning that they held once heard.

I have written things recently and again learned the responsibility of writing, sharing. My last three posts concerning the BlackHawk incident at WoundedKnee are proof to that and I Pray that growth and humbleness was felt from the first to the last.

I'm learning,I'm slipping back into a quiet. I'm listening.

This is new to me. I have always been an Artist and except from one crazy Christian when I was at Art College, my work has never caused a bad reaction. Art can be very powerful and out of all our senses it would seem the visual is what most use the most. Yet it has been words that have bought me to my knees, wondering and Praying.

One of my Sun Dance brothers posted something on Facebook recently and I re-posted it on mine. It is the story of the warriors bringing their weapons as an honoring... the dark warrior placed a tongue before everyone. This is the most powerful weapon that can lift you back to your feet or bring you to your knees and even get you to put down the Canupa he explained.
Often in Ceremonies the Spirits leave us with the wisdom that the tongue is the most dangerous weapon we have... it's our responsibility as to how we use it.