Earth and Sky. . .
“The ego struggles to understand what the spirit already comprehends.”
Grandfather told me that on the third day of the ceremony, I should take some of the smoke into my lungs.
A gentle warmth spreads through me as I do this – a sense of love flowing outward from the center, connecting me with everything that is. This is Spirit’s way of showing me the joys of servitude, the humility that comes with carrying the sacred pipe, and the responsibilities of walking the Good Red Road.
Father Sky dances with Mother Earth. A Two-legged draws his first breath. And the sacred smoke rises to Wakan Tanka, carrying with it the prayers of all my Relations.
Standing on the hill, we pray for wisdom – guidance that we may honor the ceremony, and the river of blood and tears that brings it to us. All these things enter my thoughts as the smoke rises upward. The blessings of Earth and Sky come together in the sacred silence in between . . . and from this silence, I watch the flow of everything.
I hear the fervent cries of Ego, drowning in the river of creation. It rises for a moment; bobs its head defiantly; and sinks beneath the waters of love and compassion.
And I am acutely aware that all these images, more intimate and profound than any I have known, present themselves as nothing more than a smile upon my face – a smile, in fact, upon the face of God . . .