Friday, April 20, 2012

The only religion you need is LOVE

People get confused about God. But, God being the expression of the main creative force responsible for the birth, life and death of all things, is easy to know.  Some people believe that God is everywhere all at once, watching over us all of the time.  Some do not see the connection between themselves and the forests or oceans on the other side of the planet.  Everything is connected as we are one organism here on Earth. Our heart beats and our auras or our extensive electro-magnetic bodies are connected to all things, know all things, and can connect to all that is through using our breath.

Prayers go out and some are answered and some are not...and people wonder why some prayers are heard and others are not.  They wonder, but where is God now?  The first misconception is the personification of God and that "he" can hear you, as if you are having a conversation with him.  God is not a he or a she, as you are just a being assigned a task and your sexual organs are an evolved mechanism for pro-creation...even man and woman are just fractured labels to define our magnetism to one another...to define the way we love or do not have love for things.

God made humans to be a righteous extension of the creative force.  We are a miracle.  We can choose to be the answer to one another's prayers, we are the deliverance of prayers answered in a variety of unique expressions. God, the creative energy is that which is unknown to us still. As we search for understanding the unknown appears to get smaller, until we realize that there is far more we must understand to grasp the immensity and miracle of all things. The creative force is big, unlimited and infinite. We are a part of God, as we are a part of the Earth and the galaxy. God is infinite, immaculate and eternal.  And, we are the part of God that can be everywhere here on Earth, as are the trees and plants, rocks and rivers, mountains and Sun. We are all here as interdependent beings, a part of the greater organism of the Earth.  Our whole hearted love for it and one another alone will stabilize all things. The Earth being an elemental piece of the greater universal organism and so on. The universe is a small part of the millions of galaxies that we are just beginning to understand. Understanding the concepts of microcosm and macrocosm encourages balance among humans. Once understood we see ourselves as individual cells flowing through the venous systems of our planet or gathering in "cities" and towns, either stabilizing and rejuvenating or causing cancer and disease.  The human must understand its place in things. We inhabit this place together, it is our greater body.  Well-being must reign over the whole, otherwise Earth can and will die from our indigestible chaos. Humans as a group must choose to be either a salve or a poison to our Earth. Today, most people have joined together unconsciously as a primarily destructive force.  But, we are beginning to see that each one of us can make a shift or a change in our hearts, becoming aware of a very great state of love and compassion for our inter-related brothers and sisters, creatures and other Earth inhabitants. We must make sacrifices to save everything from the "dark chaos" or as we call it, ultimate dis-ease among all things.  This is the same sacrifice that Jesus made and this is the true reason for the rememberence and reverence of his life.  He was meant to be an example, not an idol. He sacrificed his body for goodness and for the greatness on this planet.  He allowed his adversaries to mock him, to abuse him, and slander him.  He allowed himself to be hung and disgraced by all of those that he  sacrificed himself for.  It was his final act of martyrdom.  We have made our Earth into the martyr. She is conscious in a different way of our activities.  She becomes fevered, she gets the chills, her heart skips beats, she has seizures, and lesions.  We just have different labels for them.

The dark chaos is capable of take-over at any given time, we can consider this like cancer or pneumonia in the body...its an imbalance, not evil, demons, or God abandoning anyone.  Its an imbalanced condition that is conceived out of unconscious and negligent behaviors.  Each human has a choice to indulge whatever he chooses. But, bad behaviors not only effect our loved ones, neighbors, peers, etc.; they effect all things eventually.  If we cannot imagine taking responsibility for any given action we should consider what effect it may have on the whole. We should consider where our garbage goes, or how nuclear power could be very negative if a mass population is exposed to raw materials, or how dumping the waste from crystal meth production effects everyone who walks that land.

The antidote to this is to learn how to train the mind away from indulging too heavily in feeding the shadowed or unconscious side of the mind.  The human is not evil or shadowed, it is the mind that can become like a dark dangerous forest or unkempt garden.  We must tend to our minds, because our minds make the choice to keep our heart and bodies healthy, creating a strong effective electromagnetic force for the world to draw on. This makes us valuable and necessary. The dark-chaos within us is our shadowed side. We are beings being born into a genealogical lineage, a culture, a heritage, a city, and a country. There are conditions of which we sometimes feel that we can do nothing about, things beyond our control.  Part of the human's personal evolution is to realize that it does not want to experience any more suffering than that which is naturally impressed upon them.  And then, we realize that we can stop imposing suffering on other beings and that other beings will learn from this example.  Our shadow is the part of ourselves that can knock us off balance if we are not conscious of all of our allowances. The shadow seeks escapisms and propels our minds into deep states of suffering, which after a time, will result in the suffering of the body.  The shadow seeks that which harms instead of heals and Christians have called these our sins and I refer to them as shadows.  The shadow side of ourselves is our greatest teacher and a friend.  A friend whose company can be enjoyed through understanding and compassion for ourselves.  The shadows of others also teach us how to act and how not to act, by example.

Wine can be used as a sacred antidote or as a shadow, as well as love, or almost any other thing.  Our shadows are obsessive and compulsive, they are addicts, they are abusive, unconscious, selfish, greedy, gluttonous, liars.  Each cell, each life is sacred and our consciousness must be conditioned to remember and re-connect.  Electromagnetically we are connected to all things through the laws of physics.  We want balance and crave it, if we get too out of balance, our mechanism will break-down, destruct-ure. Our imbalances come when we allow our shadows to make choices and we ourselves must lean these lessons.  We must learn to yearn for true nourishment.  We are not battling Satan, a force outside of ourselves, we are battling our own shadows individually and collectively. Our collective shadow is the "darkness" we are wishing to extinguish and it is in all of us. This shadow can cause us to have unresolved karma, we can even collect group karma by participating in greater shadow activities, like war and genocides.  Karma, being an opportunity to make something right in the life you are given.

Only when we recognize that can we and must we change ourselves individually so that we can then push back the shadow and begin to have a heavenly or peaceful state here on Earth.  As one collective dream, Christianity and many other religions have a place they refer to as pure light, love and goodness...this is the place humanity can return to when we collectively acknowledge our true presence on Earth.  We, like God, are in control of hell and heaven.  The heart of each man must choose goodness, health, peace and grace.  Heaven and hell are formed and created by the heart of man. This is not about "god" at all, as in how various religious constructs see "him". This is about US choosing to live in a balanced state where love reigns on an Earth that may seem much more like heaven.

This is my statement.  This is my plea. This is not a story or a creative way of putting it.  This is me providing a wake-up call for all of us, for those who cannot take responsibility for their own actions, for those who cannot see outside of themselves long enough to help the homeless person on the corner, or the half run-over dog, or the child next door that you know is being beaten.  Help yourself and if you cannot do that, see that which is valuable in others and begin by giving someone a smile, saying hello, looking into their eyes.  I met the marketing director for Google from China once at the Esalen Institute and he said the Dalai Lama said to him and he said to me, "Maggie, if you want to heal the world, the Dalai Lama says all you have to do is sit with someone for 10 minutes, listen to them or touch them with your hand , look them in the eye and in some way make them feel like they are valuable".  

The "grand order" and the "grand chaos" are both churning energetically and we humans get to choose which one we want to perpetuate with our thoughts.  The creative order wants to take presidence  over the grand chaos or the shadow.  This my friends would be considered the "return of Christ" within our consciousness, hence the phrase "Christ consciousness". A messiah is within every lineage and accessible to you through your consciousness of it. The return of Christ Consciousness is happening right now.

Wake up world. You are god. You are the messiah.  You are a directly linked to and a part of everything you consider lovely and beautiful.

When you are alone.  Take a deep breath into the place you imagine your heart to be.  See that space expanding and filling with gold or pink light.  Imagine every love you have ever known.  feel that love in your body again.  Imagine every place that you have ever been that has taken your breath away with its amazing beauty and breathe the air of that place into your lungs.  Feel it fill you.  Keep focusing on that which makes you feel love in your heart.  NOW PRAY.  Send your prayers out with your breath, to the people, place or spirits you are praying with and for. This is consciousness.  You have just become conscious of yourself and your heart, which is the most far reaching bio-energy field of the body.  You are conscious of your breath, retaining the energy that is with you as you send it out to mingle and make effect on the world around you, in all ways.  This is how one prays and receives answers, signs and results.

When you are most alone...if you listen and love and learn to let go you may just find yourself in the presence of something you will never forget. The God within yourself and all things speaking to you very clearly. Indeed God is in all things big and small, light and dark, and good and bad.  You do not have to find it, you only have to know that it is.  This is the only faith you need. No fear, no money, no right and wrong, just you possessing yourself and being a being that is responsible for itself individually and collectively as your energy and consciousness. Make a difference.

Fortuna Favet Bravado

It means something to be a spiritual warrior.
But, it does not mean perfection.
It does not mean having a messiah complex.
It does not mean prophet, psychic, healer, speaker, grand community builder...
It means realizing we are tender enough to put our armor on
even if our armor is a costume.

It means you have the clarity of mind
to greet yourself each morning as "your creator".
It means you learn over many cups of tea and wine
that our words, our behaviors,  and our actions,
are ingredients
for life that comes from within.

I may always have a story to tell you...listen.
Its for you.
I may raise my voice...listen.
and excuse how strong it feels.
Sometimes something I say may feel like it was
hurtful and unthought-out...

To be a spiritual warrior
Is to define yourself...
I have not worn white in all my lives.
Nor do I choose to wear it in this one.
To wear white is an act of respect.
And this is a respect I show to you, not god.
Make sure to know whose expectations are truly being upheld.

I am a being that is manifest in a body
And so are you...act like an angel, act like a god, or act like a demon or a slave,
That is up to you human, that is up to you.

Friday, December 30, 2011

As the nation approaches its 57th Presidential Election, we're asking the future leaders of this country, students, to define the single most important political issue in this election. Tell us not only what that issue is, but also tell us why and how you propose we come to a solution that benefits the majority?"

The most important issue facing the United States, its governmnet and our future president is the recognition of the Earth as a living organism that should have its own set of rights recognized not only by the United States, but by any country that unites themselves with the countries who begin to take on the role of Stewards of the Earth.   All of our natural resources are finite; the health of the land we grow our foods and raise our families on is finite; and the time we have to recognize our planet as our primary supporter and only resource for life is finite. Illness within our populations, birth defects, and environmental allergies and disasters are rampant within all the populations of the world. This is because our governments and independent unawareness allows for ultimate pollution of our lands, our oceans, and all of our people.

The United States has an opportunity to live up to its reputation of being a strong world leader by redefining its basic foundation for what our national goals and responsibilities are by passing the "Mutual Respect and Stewardship Act..for all humanity and our Earth to end war and poverty through the intolerance of negligence and blatant abuse of the Earth and its creatures".

This Act would address the blatant negligence of governments and their responsibility to respectfully harvest all natural resources from the Earth including its plants, creatures, metals, stones, water, air, etc.  This act would also make law that the long-term preservation of our resources for future generations is our first priority as a world population. Toxic contamination of our Earth and its creatures will not be tolerated. The Act would be signed by all leaders in all countries to ensure that workers receive fair wages and humane circumstances for work based on location and that the harvesting of any product from the land will be regulated with respect, research and great responsibilty.  If this act should be broken by any country the Board of Stewards would agree by contract to fine this country depending on the degree of negligence. If a fee could not be payed, the gross act of negligence must be stopped and corrected or the board would exclude this country from all forms of trade and expose them for their negligence, as this should be public knowledge. 

"A population should never be punished for taking what it needs from the Earth in order to survive, but when a population, government, corporation, or individual shall perform a gross form of negligence and disrepect upon the Earth or any of its creatures for its personal monetary gain or out of sheer greed, they shall be treated as a criminal and punished", says Magnolia Polley of the Diamond Mind News Blog.

This Act is inspired by the current gross negligence of BP in the 2010 oil spill, Japan's accidental neuclear reactor melt down, the continuing wars in the Middle East over oil, the "blood diamond" horror in Africa, the constant dumping of garbage and sewage into our water-systems and the overfishing of certain areas of our oceans as well as the over cutting of our woodlands causing environmental shifts that affect all other populations and resources in the world.

This is not a plea for environmental awareness, this is a message for the our governments to take care of the only resource that guarantees every organism's survival and natural evolution on this Earth. This can be done by recognizing that the Earth itself is the organism and we are just small pieces of it with a responsibility for our needs in regards to survival and preservation.  This proposal falls under and is supported by the United States Constitution and the Declaration of Independence.

This is an official blog entry for the YourLocalSecurity.com <a href="http://yourlocalsecurity.com/scholarship">Blogging Scholarship</a>. If selected, I'll receive $1000 towards my college expenses in 2012. This scholarship is sponsored by <a href="http://yourlocalsecurity.com">YourLocalSecurity.com</a>

Monday, July 25, 2011

Deep Medicine

You once said that you wished you could heal me the way that I have healed you.
Medicine man, lesson giver.
A seemingly very real mythological creature...I see you.
You are becoming now what you have always been.
This could be a true death or what we call, the shamanic burial.
Show me one more way that I can be grateful.
Remind me of who I am.
Here is the wound, the calamity, the hole.
"Can it be healed?" is the screaming question.
A medicine person responds with compassion, connection and truth in their being.
They say, "I don't know, but I have faith and have seen many miracles.  Give it to me."
Indeed it can all be healed, even the most grave actions.
Swallow it down.
Will you survive this round in the medicine lodge?
Will you survive the medicine with immunity or will the poison in it harm you instead?
If you can still see and feel you are whole and not a hole.
Medicine man, warrior, let me hold you.
I know you  have watched your people die.
We are the same.
your pain is my pain.
We are linked together in the chain.
Let us do this healing together-
For the good of all...ho'o ponopono...and it is done.

Thursday, July 7, 2011

Timeless and weathering vessel


Our bodies are our vessels. These vessels hold not only tissue and bone, but thoughts, tears, patterns, and dreams.  The life we live creates the weathering recorded by our vessels.  The sun, the rain, the wind, and ice all create their own patterns and effect our vessels in many ways.  We hear the word tempering and wonder how can we temper our human form?

Tempering and acclimating our vessel is something we learn to do for and with ourselves.  Many of us wake after weathering many storms and sitting through the heat and stifling humid circumstances to find our vessel cracked, warped, dried out, faded in color, and most of all we cannot see our grains as clearly. Who are we? Can we even identify with this vessel that has carried everything we are, shows everything we are and have been?  

You are the wooden bowl.  You come from the finest wood you have ever seen, smelled, and sat beneath.  The tree that you are made from is your most favorite tree.  You are the bowl and yet you hold the bowl at the same time.  Take a look at.  How long has it sat in the sun becoming faded? How many times have you left your bowl outside during the storm?  What waters has it held and from where? Where has your vessel cracked? Now take your bowl in your hands and rub your thumb on it.  Let the oils absorb in to the grain of your vessel.  Wipe off the dust and old matter that does not belong there anymore.  Notice the dust and grim and delicious particles left behind by the feasts and teas, and sacred resins your bowl has held.  Begin to wipe all of it away, the soft and the harsh.  Shine your bowl.  Uncover your grain.  See it shine.  Is it like cherry wood or knotty pine?  Is it dark like walnut or aromatic like cedar? It is your bowl, your vessel and it has held every tear and wish you have ever had.  Can you use your own tears to fill and shine your own bowl? Can you see what is right there under the weathering?

Our families, friends, jobs, and lovers all have a weathering effect on our vessels.  Some may leave us feeling dull and some may leave us glowing. 

All of our vessels weather.  Sometimes a good friend helps us remember we have a grain and not just a stain other people's finger prints left on us. Our smell, our weight, our color is our own. Sometimes a massage, or yoga session, or seminar revitalizes us and creates a glow that seems to come from within, encompassing all we have ever experienced.  And we begin again to hold the water or the elixir of life again.  We begin to retain enough to hold our grains together, to mend our cracks. 

if we are the ones providing the massage, counsel or yoga session, it can be disheartening to see a client dry up, crack and dull by their next session.  We wonder why they would choose to endure that sort of weathering.  We wonder why we should work so hard on our own vessels and sacrifice that sacred anointing oil to others when we have just enough for ourselves. Because we are all learning to care for our vessels and to admire and appreciate the weathering as a part of one another's character.  The sacred oil that we use to uncover and fill our bowls comes from within ourselves.  Initially we may have to be reminded and filled with the sacred oil that someone else has spent their time cultivating to remind us that we have it too. 

Weathering is normal and our character is what attracts our greatest destiny to us by exposing our grain! 

Be brave enough to be vulnerable. Be brave enough to look at your own weathering.  Be brave and remember the essence of yourself you have been cultivating, carrying, and adding to your whole life. Be brave my friends and learn to temper your vessel.  There is much life ahead of us and our vessels are all we have. Uncover yourself, find your grain, and shine again. And oh, how  you will shine again!



Tuesday, June 28, 2011

Be Humble Be Graceful and Listen


It has been 2 months since my experience on the Hopi Indian Reservation on Easter Sunday 2011.  I write this story with a deep reverence in my heart, respect for all of those involved and as with all posts associated with the Diamond Mind, with LOVE for each of my fellow human beings. What I experience in my life is sacred and I view it that way.  The lessons brought to me are reminders and since I am a writer, it is important that what I write has the ability to reach those whom the lessons were mutually gathered for.  In this time, the lessons are for all to hear.  In the blessing way, I call in the grandmothers and grandfathers and all of my spirit guides to guide me in the proper delivery of this particular story. I also ask for protection of myself, those who are mentioned and unmentioned in this story...ohm namah shivaya. Give thanks for all that we do have in our lives, for there are many who aren't as fortunate and many who do not consider what we "have" as fortunate at all.


It was Easter week-end and my dear friends birthday.  We decided to hike to Alter Rock located behind the famous and majestic Chapel located behind our neighborhood in Sedona, Arizona. Four men and myself arrived at the Earth Alter and sat for a few moments in prayer. The wind became ferocious and whipped across us with a strength that reminds me of that the ancestors are present. While living in Hawaii I was told on multiple occasions that when one comes  to a place and the wind comes up like this that it means the ancestors are letting you know that they are near.  I do not take this as a warning usually, more as a sign of confirmation and a show of the strength of many spirits.  I knelt down and so did my friends with me. Guided by the voice of spirit through my prayer, I was told to go gather many wildflowers and to do heart chakra openings with all of the men present on the hike. I didnt even know what that meant in the moment. 


It was my friend Jon's birthday, so I went to him first and knelt in front of him having no idea what I was going to do or say and like magic spirit began to move through me, guiding me into an offering.  I filled my hands with the wildflowers, put my hands over his heart and looked into his eyes.  I thanked him for being present on this Earth in this time of great changes and thanked him for his good heart and disposition with women. I asked for forgiveness on behalf of all of the women on the planet for any hurt or abuse that anyone may have put onto him and all men.  I made prayer that we would again only look at each other with compassion and love and be moved to act only upon each other in this way.  I told him the story of Japan and their flower rituals, where flowers are placed on the chest during healing to collect any unwanted energy associated with trauma to the heart and that when one allows the flowers to fall away, so does the unwanted energy associated with hard memories...and then I let the ancestors rip the flowers away and back into nature. I did this ritual with each man and each man wept, or embraced me, thanked me and blessed me in return.  We gleefully returned to the trail and began our trek home. On the way down one of the men asked me if I would be going to visit the Hopi with them tomorrow and insisted that I must go. This was news to me and with great surprise I asked how they had been invited to visit the Hopi on Easter Sunday and what was the occasion?  He assured me that we had indeed been invited to participate in some ceremony and that it was all worked out and said again that I must attend! 


All but the man who had the birthday were gathered at our home for a meeting of folks whom believe that they are directly in touch with extra-terrestrial consciousness and are on a mission to join together, perform ceremony and open star-gates around the planet.  Our home hosted many meetings and was a social gathering place and so as this was not my fervent passion I always take the opportunity to experience and listen and gain knowledge to share with others, as I am a story teller and myth, legend and the human spirit is my passion.    I approached the leader of the group whom was also staying at our home and inquired about the journey, asked if we were bringing gifts and if I could attend. He agreed that I could come and that their was an invitation. I went on with cooking my dinner astounded at what we were setting out to do tomorrow. 

We arose early, gathered a four car caravan and headed north about 3 hours.  What I had not anticipated was the abrupt stops made to "activate" certain sites along the way with ceremonial circles.  After the last abrupt stop which nearly got all of us in a wreck the members of the group ran out into the field following their leader and began to circle up. I followed quickly and got into circle, not understanding what we were gathered there to do.  It soon became obvious to me that I was one of only a few others who did not know.  So, I put my hands out in a receiving position at my sides, closed my eyes and began to meditate on the golden pink frequency of love and compassion. I did this mainly because the leader was speaking in loud harsh tones that appeared to make everyone there a bit nervous and un-grounded. I consider myself pretty aware and versed in ceremony having sat in sacred circles now for more than half my life.  But, this one was not like any other circle I had experienced.  I could hear the man yelling and I could feel him moving within the middle of the circle.  I suddenly realized after just seconds of me standing there that he was yelling at me and very close to my face. He had pulled off his sunglasses telling me to "look him in the eyes"!  I am omitting all names here as I do have respect for everyone involved, although I do not hold the same beliefs.  I looked him in the eyes aright, threw my hands up and turned on my heel and stood about 30 feet back, still with the intention of holding space for this circle.  I could tell that he was fairly unnerved by my reaction, but in all honesty, that was the most respectful thing that I could do. 


The leader then began to howl in a language channeled to him through his extraterrestrial lineage with a large wand in his hand, shouting at the heavens and then ramming the rod into the earth like Thor's lightning bolt. From what I could tell the group was moving energy, following his lead and using visualization, the movement of their breath and bodies to create a source of energy to be used for the purpose of the ceremony.  I did not resonate with this and was happy to leave the field and get back in the car.


Two of the men who were with me on the hike the day before apologized to me and asked if I was alright. I said yes, nothing was going to ruin my experience visiting the Hopi and that it wasn't anyone else's fault that the leader did not know how to treat people.  We swiftly got back on the road and carried on.  I suddenly became aware that I may have misinterpreted the situation and I heard the man who talks to me from the realm of spirit say, "Maggie,  do not go anywhere you are not invited...you are welcome with me, where ever I take you, but dont you ever go onto the reservation and knock on a door and think you will be welcome there."  These are real words spoken to me years ago when I was studying anthropology in college.  And BOOM! I took a deep breath and swallowed hard and realized that I may be in for more of an experience than I had bargained for. 


We reached the lower lands of the reservation.  It was desolate, impoverished to first world standards, simple, and covered completely in the red clay that covers everything in this desert.  And again I became very aware of our presence in someone else's place.  I became aware of the BMW and the smart car and the erratic driving, and of our clothing...and of the arrogance of the man who was leading us into this place. I became aware and overwhelmed at the same time. I zipped up my black hooded sweatshirt in an act of protection.  Our cars climbed the side of the mesa and soon we reached the top.  All along this narrow road there were signs stating that there was no cameras allowed.  There were many cars parked jam-packed along the roadway. We reached the top of the mesa following many cars with no sign of any parking ahead.  


This was a different kind of place.  The Rez is a different kind of place.  Most people have never been to an Indian reservation. In fact, most people have no idea that there are villages that exist this way in their own country. Things change so quickly by trends, stock-markets and simple desire in Western societies that most of us have no ability to consider that in some places almost nothing has changed in over a century. The reservation was no new news to me.  Again, everything was covered in the red dust.  There was little to no foliage anywhere, not a small bit of sage or even a sticker bush. No new cars, or pools, or lawns, or jungle gyms or paved driveways. The reservation had a lot of simple things and discarded things. Small pueblo style homes rose from the dust like pictures from a National Geographic Magazine, except pictures were not allowed here. We were on a mesa vaulted hundreds of feet up from the desert floor. Children gathered at the feet of parents who sat near small grills or tables selling burgers and katchina dolls.  The sky was blue with some clouds, but it was a nice warm day. I had jumped out of the car I rode there in prematurely to be a patron, purchase a burger and allow the group to disperse a bit as I was unsure that I wanted to be grouped up with the lot of them.  I went to sit near a cliff to eat my purchased burger and a Hopi couple came to me and told me I was not supposed to sit there. I apologized quickly thinking that I was in their space and they did not want me there, but that was not the reason.  They told me that it was not a good idea to sit at the edge of the cliff because the Katchina spirits were around and about and they made it sound like the act was of minor disrespect.  They asked me why I was there and I said that I had come with a group that was invited there. They informed me that it was a very special day and that I should be lucky to be there to watch their special dance.  I was grateful and agreed that I would like to get to watching the dance.  The couple directed me to climb a nearby latter to the roof to watch the dance with the rest of the village.  This roof surrounded a full plaza and under it were many peoples homes.

  
I sat down at the edge of the flat roof surrounded by Hopi families.  There appeared to be about 400 people present.  I was one of about 25 people present who weren't Hopi and I had come with about 20 of them!  I sat on the side of the building opposite the plaza from where the group I came with would eventually gather. There were many men in full costume walking around the village.  They really looked like living full-sized Katchina dolls and as far as I could tell they were in full personification of these gods. There were numerous baskets full of food in the middle of the plaza and the gods were taking the baskets and handing them out to the people.  I interpreted the act like this was some sort of a ceremony to insure that the crops would be good for the up-coming harvest.  Like paying it forward by giving out food before the ceremonial dance.  I watched the food being given out and I did not expect to be given anything, because I was obviously an outsider and I knew that all of their resources were cherished and needed.



 I watched patiently until finally one of the Katchina gods with lots of feathers around his mask and dressed in a while kilt with a wreath made of what looked to be like an arborvida around his neck, came and stood underneath of me and looked right up at me with something in his hand. I opened my hands and smiled and he nodded and tossed me an apple.  This particular apple was significant to me right away because upon it was a little sticker with the infamous Trout/Blue Chelan label on it.  Meaning it was grown in the town I am from and where my family has lived for over 120 years. I knew that this was special and I did not eat it right away, I turned to the man standing next to me and told him it was from my home town, he said "right on" and gave me a grin. I quickly put it in my pack and smiling big kept watching the ceremony. All of the food had been given out and I noticed that there were 50-75 of the katchina gods in the center of the village, to my right was another building right across from the squared in plaza that has a ladder going down into the roof and into a home.  the ladder was huge and must have been 25 feet long. I saw the katchinas going up and down it and I thought that it must represent or be a kiva. The dance had started and was a low stomp and hum sort of rhythm. I watched this for well over an hour when all of the sudden I realized that it was raining and huge rain drops were falling from the sky completely drenching my very thin silk skirt. I was at a ceremony where the people are gathering, dancing and praying for the rain and like a miracle the clouds gathered up in the middle of the four corners region of Arizona and began to just dump buckets of rain down on us from the heavens!  I had only read about events like this in books up until that moment. This was a special time for me personally.  I felt such immense gratefulness to the village for allowing me be there to share in this experience with them.  My eyes filled with tears of joy and pure thankful astonishment.  I took my journal into my hands and wrote how grateful I was to be there on that day and to be witness to such a miracle. The men kept dancing and chanting.  The rains fell hard for 20 minutes and continued on and off through out the rest of the day.
  
There was a small raucous behind me and I noticed that one of the dancers had climbed the ladder and was coming towards me.  He had on white pants with a white kilt over the top.  He was bare foot and bare chested with a ruddy brown mud rubbed all over his skin.  He had on a black and white mask with long black hair that came from the jawline of the mask.  He never stopped dancing and he came straight over to me and began addressing me in the Hopi language which I was not familiar with.  One of the men standing close to me told me that he wanted to know if I had been taking pictures and if I had a camera.  I said that I would not disrespect them in that way and that I was merely there to watch and observe the dance.  The clown saw my journal sticking out of my pack and asked what it was. I reported that I kept a journal . They asked if I was drawing pictures in it of their ceremony.  I reported that I had not and that I only write poetry in it and that it is like a diary of sorts. The Hopi man interpreting for me told the Hopi god that there had been a mistake and that he had seen me just writing, not drawing.  The Katchina clown insisted that I allow him to see it.  So, I handed it over, he flipped through the pages quickly and carelessly and took off with it back down the ladder.  I was flabbergasted. I was shaken and slightly damaged by the interaction. I looked at the same man who I had showed the apple to and he said, "were you drawing pictures?", and I said "no, I was just writing about how grateful I was to be in such a special place on such a special day".  I told the man that I would love to have my journal back and how special my writings were to me and asked him if he could try to get it back.  He agreed to do it and came back about 20 minutes later with the book.  He instructed me to put it in my pack and to write after I left the reservation.  



Another 10 minutes passed and again there was someone beneath me beckoning me with their eyes and clasped hands. It was a little boy who could have been no older than 8 years old. He made eye contact with me and launched a small bundle to me. It was a piece of paper wrapped around a rock.  The paper had words on it; my words and my writing. The rock was lighter than most and deep black. The little boy had returned one of the pages torn out of my journal. "How peculiar" I thought. I did not examine the page or the rock before I stuffed it in my bag. 


Soon after the dancing clown returned and more people gathered around me and the clown.  One of the people said I should go because I didnt want to make the gods angry.  I insisted that I was so appreciative of being there and I only came in respect.  I noticed the other non-Hopi people were gone below me. A drunken man in his 60's approached me and and told me I had been asked to leave again because they were still stuck on the camera thing. My eyes welled with tears.  I had been carrying this ridiculously large smudge bundle around all day.  My friend in Ojai had given it to me a few weeks prior as a travel gift straight from her garden.  It was at least 35" long.  I had tried to give it to the dancing clown god, but he looked at me like he had no idea what it was, so I handed it to the old man and followed him down off the roof.


He told me not to cry, in fact he begged me to stop. He said that there had been a misunderstanding and he could see that I was a good person by looking into my eyes.  He told me he was coyote clan and told him that I was mountain lion clan.  He kept pounding his fist to his chest saying that he took responsibility for me and that anyone who had a problem with me would talk to him.  That I was invited to be there by him and that the reason that they thought I was the one with the camera was because no one was taking responsibility for me. He tried to lead me back to the dance.  As we were walking back, the dancing clown re-appeared and pointed towards the road out.  The man looked at me and said, "wow, he really wants you to go".  He continued to lead me back into the village, but by this time I was sick to my stomach with it.  I told him that I do not do anything out of disrespect, especially here on this land and that I would appreciate it if he would just help me to locate where my group had parked their cars.  


The old man ended up leaving me there by the edge of a building and I sank down, my back against the wall and I began to weep silently staring at the ground.  I allowed self-sorrow to  engulf me for about 2 minutes until the rains began to fall again and I got up, pulled my hoodie over my head, strapped on my little blue back-pack and began to walk into the maze of low-roofed ancient homes with ally ways half the width of a normal doorway.  I wandered, I looked in every nook and cranny for a car that resembled the one I came in. No luck.  I came to the end of the road where a low built and very old stone wall also came to an end.  I sat at the edge of the village, at the edge of the wall, on the edge of the mesa, where the mesa walls dropped straight down.  There was one way in and one way off that mesa. I listened, I watched, and my mind battles meditation, as all my senses became electrified, waiting to hear a familiar voice or a car that was a match rolling behind me. One hour passed and then another. I stared out over this cliff, over the simple reservation village and passed it all to what appeared to be a mountain range.  I could see for miles in every direction.  Moments came and went where I felt exiled and strange past life like memories began to swirl in my head.  I could smell the dank smell of wet land and urine rising up to me from the ground far below.  There was garbage poured over the edges of the mesa and I did not feel disgust as I knew there was really no where else to throw unwanted things and that this had been the way for many years before much of our food products came in plastic wrappers.  


I contemplated why this was happening and the heavy rains kept coming over me and the winds howled and whipped my face harshly.  I was cold, but I felt extremely alive. My tears mixed with the rain and I felt that I was being purified by the heavens. I knew from the moment the clown first approached me that this event was not personal.  That I being white had to take responsibility for my choice of walking onto a reservation on a sacred day and I knew the consequences of this action more that any other person in the group.  I never took the turn of events personally, but I did take personal responsibility for how I chose to react while in the situation. I knew that what I was experiencing was a direct reaction of hundreds of years of inappropriate contact and disrespect by the impetuous culture I belonged to. I have known this my whole life, considered it my whole life, felt embarrassed by my white skin and the sick behavior of my western culture on multiple instances. 


Apologies fix nothing. Praying for forgiveness fixes nothing.  Recognizing our egocentric behaviors and changing the way we act and treat people changes everything, at least within ourselves. The garish and accusatory behavior of the clown was not justifiable, but I cultivated forgiveness for it immediately. Knowing that this was not a karmic responsibility that I was experiencing because of my own actions, the actions of my family, or the actions necessarily of the people I came with.  This experience falls into what I have described in the past as group karma, or karma that we all experience because of the societal group that we are a part of.  This karma or reaction can only be changed by altering our own behaviors and beliefs to represent a better way.  It happens one person at a time and we teach and encourage evolution in others by example. I was learning a lot today and some of it felt harsh. 


I heard someone behind me and I turned around.  It was a man with long thick dark hair who appeared to be within my age range. He said, "Hey, are you okay, you aren't going to jump are you?", as he nodded towards the edge of the cliff I sat upon. I nodded no.  "You having boyfriend problems or something, why do you look so sad"?  I laughed and I said, "its not like that, I was asked to leave the dance because someone there was taking pictures and I have too much respect to go back."  His smile turned upside down and he grumbled, "that sucks, hmmmph...well do you like cupcakes?"  I grinned big and replied sweetly, "of course I like cupcakes".


He motioned for me to follow him into his house and told me I could meet his family.  They all greeted me with smiles and looked happy to see a nice girl walk through the door.  They sat around a painted picnic bench in what was the simplest home I have ever been in.  It was all one room and there was no sign of a bed, only blankets stacked on a couch. There was a small old fridge to my left, a stove to my right, a garbage can that was very full behind me and something beside me that I had never seen before.  It smelled just like the cliff.  It was a real piss pot with pieces of feces floating in it.  Strangely, I was not surprised.  Immediately the man who led me in and introduced himself to me as 'Champ' was offering me a cupcake with pink frosting.  I was hungry and thankful and I ate it.  Then one of the men from the picnic table got up and came to me with a few ears of corn on the cob and offered me one telling me it was a traditional food for the day.  I accepted it too and ate the item with thanks knowing that these were gifts. Then came the cool-aid, the cracker-jacks and an already half eaten snickers bar. 


After a bit, one of the men piped up and said, "you were the girl who showed me the apple, I remember you". He reiterated the story, reminding me that he had also retrieved my journal for me. I felt that he had watched out for me in a way and again my gratitude for his presence that day was immense. These men told me many stories and apologized for what happened to me and like the old man, they kept saying it was a misunderstanding. They did not seem to look at me like I had been exiled or cast out by the gods. This was a perspective and I was beginning to believe I was the only one who had it.  Every time I began to talk about it my eyes welled up with tears and they did not like that at all.  They told me today was a happy day full of good prayers and that it was not a good thing to feel sad. The men were getting antsy and told me that they were ready to go back to the dance.  I was invited again. Turning them down knowing I should sit and wait for my friends.  It had been hours and I was afraid that somehow they had slipped by me and that I would have to hitch a ride down the mesa, off the reservation and back down to Sedona.  The very idea intimidated me.  I asked Champ to look for my friends and to let them know that I was waiting for a lift at the bottom of the road.  Champ told me I could sit and wait for his auntie and niece and that they were very nice.  I sat on the porch waiting for a number of things to happen.  Auntie and her granddaughter came first.  She looked at me as if to say, "what is this"?  I reached out my hand and introduced myself explaining that champ had let me sit and wait on the porch for my friends.  He came back for just a minute and re-introduced me.  All of them insisted that I go back into the house and I could not reason out of their wishes. 


Auntie got to making rows and rows of tacos.  She made two full pans that held at least 80 tacos together.  I looked around and noticed that the walls were completely bare.  There were no pictures, no fetishes, no extra items a all.  What they did have was a very beautiful antique wood stove and an oven, both for cooking and heating water.  It seemed to me that there was little besides food that was kept.  Auntie began to speak to me.  She told me of her youth on the reservation and how she had moved to Berkeley when she was young for college.  She remembered looking out of her window there and seeing the city sprawl.  She said just looking at it was enough to move her back to the reservation. She had come back and left there very little. 


"Do you see what is out there?" she said. "Juss dust, no plants, nothing grows here because there is so little water." her eyes squinched up as she looked at me over her glasses.  "Do you know many of us still hike down the hill to the well and take buckets to our crops? Cus that is all we have. We don't have nothing else but our crops.  Yesterday we put our seeds in the ground, but we began praying for rain and making food for this day weeks ago.  As we make the food we are praying for the crops to grow.  In everything we do for weeks before the dance is a prayer for rain and fertility of the land. When people come here they don't realize that these dances, and our food and our prayer is all we have.  We have tried to allow non-Hopi people to come and watch our dance, but someone always chooses to dis-respect us by bringing cameras. For them it is what they do on Sunday, like some form of entertainment. This dance is not for entertainment. This dance is all we have and all of us are praying really hard, our focus is on our prayer for the rain and just by being non-Hopi here you are a distraction to our prayers. We feel like we have to look after you, because most of the time when there are non-Hopi around stuff happens.  The police who come here are very strict.  We want to let outsiders come watch, but there are too many misunderstandings and it is a distraction from the importance of this day."  She looked up at me again over a pan of well-made tacos with tears in her eyes and I looked right back at her hard with tears in my eyes and I said, "I am so sorry".  


"Did you see it rain?" she asked.  


"Yes, it was the most amazing thing I have ever seen, the way the clouds gathered up and dropped those huge raindrops in the middle of the desert.  I didn't expect it.  I am so grateful to have been able to see what parts of the dance I did." and with that I smiled at her.  


Just then Champ walked in and told me that he had found my friends and one of them was on their way to get me. I hugged everyone and thanked them very much for sharing time and being kind to me. It really had made all of the difference in the world.  I followed my friend back to the group and then we all walked down off the mesa together to a lower lot I hadn't noticed on the drive up.  Everybody's energy was a little off. I kept a smile on my face as a natural defense, because I had not assimilated what had actually happened, yet. My whole body felt on edge and electrified. I was grateful that I had a ride home. My room-mate turned to me and said "I have been looking for you for three hours".  


(I'll call the alien occult team leader, Byron) Apparently Byron had told everyone that he thought I had run off to pout and make a scene to cause drama for our group at the dance. And it appeared like he had almost convinced everyone that I deserved to be left there to find my own ride home.  I felt a tinge of disappointment in  my guts and in the tear ducts of my eyes.  I was scolded and told that all of this happened because I separated myself from the group and we needed to learn to stick together.  It later came out that they also were asked to leave the the roof-top vista, because they were thought to have been snapping pictures, too.  I felt badly that they many of the members of the group were affected by their leaders assumptions and accusations about me. After all we had all been affected by whomever was there taking the pictures on that day and on any other day, as well. 


The two men who apologized to me before apologized to me again; one of them pulling me aside and telling me he wouldn't have left me there and no one could have convinced him to have done so. I was grateful for the kindnesses of those in the group who had taken the time to look into my eyes.  I was grateful to the old man who led me away and to the little boy who tossed me the bundle. I was grateful for the cupcake, the corn, the cool-aid and the crackerjacks. I was grateful for the Katchina god that came to stand below me, sensing something deeper or maybe not, and then blessed me with the apple.  I was grateful to the family who had invited me in their home and to the Auntie who gave me the valuable lesson to share.  When I was safely on the road and driving off the mesa I opened my pack and pulled out the apple and the bundle the small boy had tossed me.  


I noticed right away that the rock was special and like I mentioned before there was nothing but dust that was left laying on the grounds atop the mesa.  Everything there was brought there. I remembered being in a jewelry store a few weeks prior and a man showing me a Hopi snake fetish made of a very special stone that he said was particular to the Hopi carvers called jet. It was light and felt like plastic or coal and the $800 price tag didn't seem to be fitting of a resin composite art piece. He assured me it was a special stone batting down my disbelief. And now I had a large diamond shaped chunk of it covered in red mud in my hands. I read the torn out page wrapped around the stone again. Some of the content is of a private nature otherwise I would recite it here. The page had a tone and a weight to it and anyone who read it definitely could glimpse into my heart and into my soul. It meant something to me that it had been given back, regardless of the content.  And the rock I later found out is for healing sorrow associated with old karma, protection against evil, harm and spiritual possession.  It is a burial stone for safe passage in the after-life. It is also said to be able to create an electric current when rubbed. I felt blessed for having it and I have kept it with me every day since. 


An elder Hopi lady came with us for a drive to the famed prophecy rock.  Songs were song and one of the girls from the group came and held my hand.  Byron had obviously been rattled and he stood behind the group alone.  I think we all had a lot on our minds after that day, I know I did. I have thought back on the symbolism and deeper meaning of this experience many times realizing that I will have many layers and much to learn from telling this story.  It had been a good day. I was grateful to be watching this little grandmother chanting, even if the extraterrestrials had paid her to be our tour guide for the evening. We stopped by one other special rock, too.  It reminded me of many of the standing stones in Ireland. These places were old places.  Places most people never get to go. I felt that the ancestors were looking over my shoulders and walking with me while I was there, perhaps even giggling a little bit.  




Magnolia May Polley copyright 2011









Thursday, January 13, 2011

The illuminated mind fights itself only long enough to become brilliant again

Every day we make choices.  And it may not be our first initial choice to choose love. It may not be appropriate for the circumstance.  It only appears to not be appropriate for the circumstance, because we like to define words, give them barriers and then say, well that's not what love is, this is not how love acts and that is not 'how I see love at all'.

We don't all see love the same and we judge others decision making because it is human to do so.  This is the same reason we have religious wars that never end.  And once again, I am not saying it is all love.  It takes the very opposite effect of love to cause a real disruption in people.  This disruption or stress trigger's the flight or fight response. And it is this response and what comes with it that asks for an equal response.  I cant imagine a mother who has lost her child to an act of war for any reason responding well when she receives the news.  How much can it sooth her to know that her son died for his country.  He gave his life for this country, like a drop of water in the bucket, he threw his essence into it, perhaps not understanding the full price that was paying. And what I mean to say is...did his country love him back?  And again what I mean to say is, what part of the country loved him back?  Did the land love him itself?  Did the government show him love?  Did the leaders who trained him? So was there a match for this love~a give and take or was it that this soldier did all the loving and fought others with the same hot passion?  And how was he reminded that it was love when he was out on the battle field, or on ship or in the air, gunning down others in their own country that they loved?  And how is this justifiable? Who did he do it for, for the safety of his country?  For the love of his country? Or because he wanted to spend his years doing 'something' he could consider meaningful?  Did he believe he would get an education, discipline and be able to travel and be an honorable father and husband?  Was he thinking of his parents, his sister, his high school sweet heart, when he went out onto the battle field, or was he thinking about his mother and how she would feel to lose him? Was he thinking about his kids and how they would grow up without a father if he didn't make it through or was he thinking about the old red white and blue flag still standing as he ran out and then took cover?  Chances are, he had flashes of all those things, but the adrenaline and endorphins his body developed for survival had well kicked in and he was already into the human response mechanism.  The government trains soldiers to work under these human conditions, knowing that men especially will stand and fight other men if they have convinced themselves that they are valuable in the defense of something. Propaganda isn't a dead methodology, it works to put the masses into a state of fear. Humans have a survival response for fear. And current social standards prevent most flight or fight mechanisms through punishment. Oppression is the unwanted outcome.


I'd like to ask you...what are you willing to fight for? Who are you willing to fight for? And what would be your reasoning? Or, is there another answer for us?   Chaos and Order depend on the existence of the other.  What happens in the middle of that is what we refer to as the blank slate, the reaction place where the energy of creation snaps and crackles creating that which is often beyond our current understanding.  If we all look at one another as brothers or through the eyes of another, we will never choose to turn on anyone, because we would realize we are the all one.