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I Stay, I Go


13th August 2002

11:16am: So...what is a Prayer?
For me it has nothing to do with beseeching, grovelling, bargaining, asking or, for that matter, nothing to do with an Other. No one to ask, necessarily. A prayer to me can be a deep sense of gratitude. A prayer can be a beautiful song. Nakai's flute playing is a prayer. Sitting still & listening quietly can be a prayer. The way someone dances or looks up at the sky or down at a daisy- all those can be profound prayers. Prayers are always deeply beautiful though their appearance can be quite horrific; a man throwing his body in the way of a speeding car to save a child- that is a great great prayer. Or.. it could be just setting down the baggage...


We are brought thick desserts, and we rarely refuse them.
We worship devoutly when we're with others.
Hours we sit, though we get up quickly
after a few minutes, when we pray alone.
We hurry down the gullet of our wantings.

But these qualities can change,
as minerals in the ground rise inside trees
and become tree, as a plant faces an animal
and enters the animal, so a human
can put down the heavy
body baggage and
be light.

1:09pm: And again, we went into the forest. We must. I must. I always feel as though I'm returning to my True Mother- back into her many arms, back into her protective womb. I feel so utterly me there. 11 of us with our drums, our dancers, our gear, our joy, our love, our laughter, our songs & our wide open hearts.

It was a beautiful spot surrounded by tall cedars and pines that oozed their thick golden sap that glistened in the sunlight. There was ALOT of sunlight and a river ran through, the Tieton river, and it sang its sweet bubbly lullabys as I drifted off each night.

There were field mice scurrying.
Ants scuttled across my tent in the mornings, frantically gulping down the last few dew drops leftover from dawn.

There was a Feast.

Someone apologized and it moved me.

I stroked a lions mane.

4 strangers came and they were.... hmmm.... I want to say h o l y.
2 approached humbly as we were playing and, closing their eyes, they lay their tender hands on our drum skins. They stayed that way, a slight smile on their faces, for some time. When we finished I shyly asked one what she was feeling through the drum. She took up my right hand and raised it into the air with hers and spoke some strange yet powerful foreign words. Then she placed my hand on the drum skin with hers and closed her eyes. I followed. I felt vibrations coming through the drum and she said it was the Great Spirit. I teared up and choked back tears. It was really sacred.

Sunday morning I woke early & stretched out on my lawn chair to catch the sunrise. It's always a thrill for me to see those first bright shards of light piercing through the mountaintops, suddenly blazing & brilliant & blinding & Life-giving. I happened to glance to the left in time to see a black & yellow butterfly flitting down the path. And suddenly a starling swooped in behind her, opened his beak and whoooosh. No more butterfly.
For awhile, thereafter, I pondered the fleeting nature of life and how, at any time, I could be blindsighted and whooooosh. No more me. I silently strengthened my resolve to Live more. To Love more. To Be Here more.

And suddenly another butterfly, this time orange & black and here! She's alighted onto my right big toe! Suddenly I am filled to the rim with a happiness and a renewed assurance that I am part of it all. That I, too belong here. (funny how the 3 horseflies on my feet at the time did not quite impart that same sense of oneness... hee..)

Ahh well, it was nice to meet myself & my friends again reflected in the green.

It was everything I needed and all that I will ever need.
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