“I can’t work the fields of Abraham and turn my head away
I’m not a stranger in the hands of the Maker”
-Daniel Lanois

These last few weeks have found me, for the most part, in a pretty dark place.  I have stood at what seems like the eye of a hurricane and watched the rest of the world spin around me.

My day job has degenerated into one useless meeting after another which have mainly consisted of watching those supposedly in charge flip-flop like fish out of water while the rest of us are left standing around to “work with it”.

Office chatter runs the gamut from lack of morale to who’s sleeping with whom to the latest “reality” show.  We float along on a sea of it…well, mostly we float – that is, until the waves rise up and threaten to pull us under.

With last week’s move a shrinking speck in the rearview mirror, my life is only now starting to spill back out of cardboard boxes and drape itself across the walls and floors of my new home.  The altars have gone up, and the pipe sits ready for ceremony.  There is healing work to be done this weekend, and a drumming circle,  and the tending-to of the yard.  And while these things are very dear to me, I still find myself feeling somewhat cut-off.

The heat rises in my belly on a daily basis, burning away the roots of the old growth, that the new may feed upon its ashes.

This is Coyote heat.  There is no solace here – only the hollow whispering of dry sand.  Here in this land of broken shadows and jagged rocks there is only and always the unblinking eye of God.

For my people, then, if not for myself.  That THEY might live, I cry out, “What would you ask of me…” 

A solitary whisper returns, “Open your eyes to the Sun and move forward…Be strong, and your people will live.”

Grandfather Bear stands behind me, paws heavy and reassuring upon my shoulders.  Offers me courage, if only I would take it; climb from the well of Lost Souls and stand upon the firm unbending soil of the Good Red Road.  We walk together, He and I. Spirit smiles.  Speaks to me in the fluttery tongue of moth’s wings.

Along the horizon a soft, gray glow appears…



2 Responses to “Circle…”

  1. I have never quite understood the necessity to make work, or chaos, that seems a specialty of people who run organizations. (I have been among them and still didn’t get it.) Clear leadership, even if the organization crashes and burns, seems much more likely to produce positive outcomes and happy employees.

    Here, after days of cloud and rain, there are moments (such as this one) of sun. They are welcome. Sometimes remembering the Creator made both light and darkness for our benefit is so difficult!.

    Oddly, I love the landscapes of Coyote, their aridity and starkness. There, everything is boiled down to its essence. For maybe a hundred miles one can see the storms coming, and prepare. Maybe everyone now feels the storm coming, even if they don’t see it on the horizon. Will it bring much needed rain to the fields, or wash away an epoch? Time will tell.

    Be well.


  2. “For maybe a hundred miles one can see the storms coming, and prepare. ”

    Very true. If one remains calm and remembers that.

    I’ve never understood the games either, but in the end, I guess, it’s what makes the flowers grow! Of course, it’s often difficult to remember that when you’re up to your chin in it…

    Still, times like these do seem to polish us…Steel sharpens steel, as they say.


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