Being The River's Fingers

The River asked me
to be her fingers
her voice
her song.
I don't remember
saying "yes"
that day I offered
to help clean up,
but here I am dancing her
into wholeness and beauty.
Segments of my life
on seemingly unrelated
streams and branches
weave together
in a flowing
undulating tapestry as
the watershed
unveils herself
to me through me in me.

Burning desire
to know about her-story,
who drank from her waters
before
in birchbark,
in cabins, in mills,
in factories, in suburbs:

How can I feel her sense
of transformation
of the slime and dumps,
the stench
and cement banks
of the hopeless reputation
into greenbelts, wetlands,
joy-filled parks,
wild reserves?

When did I say
I would spend my days
connecting the places
opening my eyes
and their eyes
to her web of grace?
To come to know her
intimately
over hundreds
of square miles
to feel her voice
whisper or cry,
"Have you noticed this?
Show them this!
my colors, my offerings
my stories of Her-Story."

~Carly Dyer

Picture found here.

Seed Slavery. Doan Want.

We have a covenant w/ creation to carry on our responsibility, as those who have two legs, in relationship to our relatives that have fins, wing, hooves, and roots. And so we have this food. Manoomin, which means "the most wonderous seed." This food is a central part of our culture as Anishinaabeg people. We have cared for those rice beds, for our lakes and rivers for as long as we have been Anishinaabeg.

When the University of Minnesota cracked the DNA sequence for Wild Rice, that set us up for genetic engineering and genetic contamination. One of our chiefs said, "Who gave them permission?" And that is the ethical question, isn't it? Who gave anybody rights to change the DNA sequence of life forms?

I didn't understand what seed slavery was until I met up with Monsanto. And then I understood why we had to ensure that they did not patent our rice and they didn't own it. And so, we as indigenous people have formed this indigenous seed sovereignty coalition; with us are the taro farmers of Hawaii, who are saying taro is our relative and you can not patent it. Our relatives in New Mexico look at protecting the indigenous corn varieties as their relatives. These are essential parts of who we are.

Our traditional foods, those really old indigenous varieties, are much higher in antioxidants, fiber, amino acids than anything you can buy at the store. Those foods are medicine. those old biologically diverse seed stocks have the ability to adapt and will make it through climate destabilization. If we want to feed our people, we have to go back to our original heritage varieties, those original relatives that have roots.

~Winona LaDuke, Bioneers 2007 Conference, October 19-21, reprinted in the We'Moon 09 Calendar

When I Am Clear

when I am clear
with myself
clear
to the sold cavern
at my center
the world turns
luminous truly
in the truth telling
orbs and edifice
of sense
I become a bell
my body becomes
a bell the wind rings

~Marna 2005, reprinted in he We'Moon 09 Calendar

The Most Fun I've Ever Had

One of the loveliest books I ever read -- and should re-read -- is Pillar of the Sky by Cecelia Holland, which tells the story of the construction of Stonehenge. There's an amazing line in the story, when one of the builders looks at the partially-constructed monument and, explaining succinctly its purpose, says, "I am with my father's father's fathers and with my son's son's sons." It resonated with me the moment that I read it and I've never forgotten it. And there are moments in my life when it's the only verbal expression that I know for a deep and important experience that I'm having.

I got to spend time w G/Son last night and, having spent the night at his house, again this morning. I suppose that it's inherent in the business of being a grandparent, and it's even stronger for the fact that this little one carries such a clear genetic imprint of my pipple from out of the Arctic North, with ears that remind me of the Elvish blood from his grandfather's fey side of the family. But I cannot hold this child without being transported to that feeling: I am with my father's father's fathers. (And my blonde, fair-skinned mother's blonde mother's mothers.) And I am, literally, with my son's son's sons.

Son and DiL got home last night as the debates were starting and they allowed G/Son to stay up to see "Pweswident Obama." It's how we do things in my family; the only nights I can ever remember being allowed to stay up late were presidential conventions and debates, when I'd sit with my dad and get treated as if I were a thinking person and as if that were really OK. And I was watching McCain lose to Obama and realizing: I was wrong earlier this year. I figured that if, and it was an if, if Obama could win in the racist States of America, it would be by a v narrow margin. I was wrong. It looks as if not only is America poised to elect an African American president, but she's prepared to do it by a landslide. She takes her time, but every now and then, America makes you proud. Dr. King said that the arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends towards justice. He was right. I looked at my two-year old G/Son and realized that when Obama ends his second term, G/Son will be ten years old. The only president he will have ever known will have been an African American president. That will be the norm for him. The first president that I really remember was Kennedy, who died when I was seven. Johnson assumed office and was president until I was eight. G/Son's reference will be an America where the president is African American.

G/Son loves my iPhone. Ever since he was little, I've kept it loaded with YouTubes that he likes in order to, for example, keep him amused when the brunch order takes a while to come out of the kitchen or when, as this morning, his 'rents are running around getting things ready and packing things up. Over time, what's on my iPhone has morphed from mostly Elmo to mostly The Jungle Book to Dinosaurs. Last night, G/Son told me, "Nonna, I like Batman and Spiderman." When he was watching the Dinosaurs on my iPhone he said, "Nonna, can there be Batman on your iPhone?" Of course, there could be. G/Son is at that stage where he can watch the same three minute animation over and over and tell you the story each time. "Look. Two bad guys. They set a fire. That's bad; fires can hurt Bambi. Here comes Batman in his mobile car. He throws the boomerang at the bad guys. That's one of his special tools. Batman catches the bad guys and my mommy [the prosecutor] makes them go to jail. There's Batman standing on the roof." And then we do it again. Only, G/Son wants to manipulate the iPhone himself. "No. Me do it." And, he can. He can manipulate the virtual objects on the screen ("That's the screen. Don't touch it when it's playing; that makes it stop.") Again, I sit there, a child of the fifties, and realize, "I am with my son's son's sons."

It's going to be so much fun.

Light posting over the next few days and that only if blogger's "future posting" feature really works. Some v generous souls have offered me their cabin for the weekend and it's that time just before Samhein when, witch that I am, I need time alone in nature for introspection. Back on Tuesday.

McCain/Palin: Doan Want

Also, Japanese Temple Pines

I think that I am in love.

Western Autumn Sun Hitting My Japanese Maple

Part of my mad plan, which is mine, is to more or less turn my backyard into a small woodland around a little patio w a fountain and large Stone and undetermined Air Element and a fire pit. Today, Landscape Guy showed up at 7:00 am w Japanese Temple Pines and Japanese Maple Trees and American Wisteria, Amethest to begin that transformation. Around 4:45 pm, the Autumn Setting Sun hit the red leaves of one of the new Japanese Maples.

I believe that my ancient oak trees are v happy.

Do You Think This Culture Will Undergo A Voluntary Transformation To A Sustainable Way Of Living?

There is only one community, and it lives and dies as a unit. Any harm done to the natural world diminishes the human world, because the human world depends on the natural world not only for its physical supplies but for its psychic development and fulfillment. This is most important, because people talk about the need to destroy the natural world in order to advance the human world. Well, anything that diminishes the wonder and fulfillment we receive from the natural world spoils the human enterprise. We may get a pile of possessions, but it won't mean much if we can't go to the mountains or the seacoast, or enjoy the songs of birds or the sights and scents of flowers. What does it do to our children when they cannot enjoy such things?

The other dimension to this is that we have to somehow get beyond Western Civilization, which must be profoundly altered because it is so destructive in its present state. This alteration is so absolute and so deep in its implications that a person has to wonder about the continuity. In other words, Western Civilization itself is causing our difficulties, which makes this type of change hard to really comprehend. Transformations of this magnitude are generally associated with some type of religious change.

Thomas Berry, interviewed by Derrick Jensen in How Shall I Live My Life?

The Garden Just Before Samhein

Helibore is usually the v first thing to bloom and pineapple sage is usually the v last thing to bloom.

I don't grow many red flowers, but I can't help myself when it comes to pineapple sage.

Sunday Trakl Blogging

The Rats

In the farmyard the white moon of autumn shines.
Fantastic shadows fall from the eaves of the roof.
A silence is living in the empty windows;
Now from it the rats emerge softly
And skitter here and there, squeaking,
And a grey malodorous mist from the latrine
Follows behind them, sniffling:
Through the mist the ghostly moonlight quivers.
And the rats squeak eagerly as if insane
And go out to fill houses and barns
Which are filled full of fruit and grain.
Icy winds quarrel in the darkness.


~Translated by Robert Bly and James Wright

Picture found here.

Pretend You're A River

It was such an amazingly lovely Autumn day, that I debated going to my class today. Yeah, I wanted to learn more about knitting, but the whole "sitting inside" thing tore at me. In the end, I went, and I was glad. I learned something new, sat in a circle with women (no one could have anticipated), and then had the joy of coming home along the Western side of the beautiful Potomac River. I love that river. It blesses my life every single day.

Pretend you're a river
Pretend you are the mist who falls so fine, so gentle, that nothing separates water and air
You are the rain who falls in sheets, explodes onto the ground to leave pocks and puddles
You are the ground who receives this water, soaking it up, taking it in, carrying it deep inside
You are the cracks and fissures where the waters accumulate, flow, fall to join more water and more
in pools and rivers who move slowly through cavities, crevices, pores
You are the sounds and silence of water seeping or staying still
You are the meeting of wet and dry, the union of liquid and solid, where solids dissolve and liquids solidify
You are the pressure who pushes water through seams
You are the rushing water who bubbles from the earth
You are a tiny pool between rocks
You overflow, find your way to join others who, like you, are moving, moving
You are the air at the surface of the water
the joining of substantial and insubstantial
the union of under and over, weight and not weight
You are the riffle, the rapid, the tiny waterfall who turns water to air and air to water
You are the mist who settles on the soil
You are the plants who drink the mist, and you are the sun who warms and feeds them
You are the fish who feed on insects, who feed on plants, who feed on soil, who feed on fish
You are the fish who become soil, who become plants, who become insects, who become fish, who flow down the river
You are the river who joins other rivers to become a new river, who is all the rivers, and something else
You are the river
You do not stop at the banks where liquid turns to solid
You reach into the sky, and into the soil
Water moves through rocks, comes up to form pools far from the fast flow where the rivers move together
seeps down to join still waters beneath the surface
waters who sleep and wake and sleep, and mingle with the stones who are the river too
You are the river who is married to the mountains you have known since they were young
who have given themselves to you, as you have given yourself to them
You are the canyons you nestle into, each year deeper than the year before
You are the forests who give you their fallen trees
the meadows you flood and feed
and they feed you back their fruits and fine insects
who fly to your surface to be taken in by the fish
who again with their owns bodies feed the meadows
You are the river who feeds the ocean
who feels the tides pushing and pulling against your mouth
the waves mixing fresh and salt
you are that intermingling, that is who you are
that is who you have always been
You are the river
You have lived with volcanoes and glaciers
You have been dammed by lava and ice
You've carried log jams so large and so old that they grow their own forests, with you running beneath
You have lived through droughts and floods
You are the river
You miss the salmon, you miss the sturgeon, you miss the ocean
you miss the meadows, you miss the forests, you miss the beavers, and otters and bears
you miss the humans
You are the river, you want them back
You want to feel the tickling of the sturgeon and the thrusting of the Salmon
You want to carry food and soil to the ocean
You want to cover the meadows as you used to
and you want to give yourself to them
and you want them to give themselves to you
as you have done forever and as they have too

Now, pretend you are a forest
You are the bark of trees and the hairy moss who hangs from them
You are the duff, who becomes soil, who becomes trees, who becomes seeds, who becomes squirrels, who become owls who become slugs, who become shrews, who become soil
You are the trees who cannot live without the fungi, who cannot live without the voles, who cannot live without the trees
You are the fire, who cannot live without the trees, who cannot live without the woodpeckers, who cannot live without the beetles, who cannot live without the fire
You are the wind who speaks through the trees, and the trees who speak through the wind
You are the birds who sing, and the birds who do not
You are the salamanders, the ferns, the millipedes
the bumble bees who sleep on flowers, waiting for the morning to warm you so you can eat and fly on home
You to have lived through drought and flood, hot and cold
and you too miss the salmon
you miss the owls, the bears
you miss the rivers
you miss the people, the humans
you want them all back
you need them back
or you will die

-Derrick Jensen.

Not Fit For Office

Earth Talk

standing empty
once more

in the early morning chatter
of bird song and creek talk
the slow grinding whisper
of rocks, shifting
in the veiny fingers
of the earth

feeling it
come up through
word seeds
of love
of light
burst in the heart

catch me
in that shiny flow.

~Cathy Caser 1986, reproduced in the We'Moon 2009 Calendar

Art found here.

Prayer Vigil For The Earth

This weekend, if you're in DC, join in the Prayer Vigil for the Earth.


Join us for the Prayer Vigil for the Earth, held every autumn
on the mall near the Washington Monument.

Nestled near Native American Tipis
in the glow of a sacred fire, you are greeted
by the drums and rhythms of many nations...

The purifying sent of burning sage welcomes all
to this peaceful and prayerful space
to join in fellowship with new and old friends

At dawn on Sat. Oct 18, we will light the sacred fire that will burn throughout the Vigil.

Come anytime during this amazing weekend!

Families are welcome and there are activities
and blessings for children.


The website for the event says:

The Peace Village is designed in a circle to mirror the shape of our Earth.

A fire burns in the center of the circle like a fire burns in the center of the Earth. The circle and the fire symbolize life. They are sacred.

You enter the sacred Peace Village through the East Gate, place of the rising sun.

There are many activities going on in the Peace Village. There is an area for Silent Prayer for the Earth, a Children's Tipi, an Elder's Tipi, a chanting/singing tipi, a labyrinth, receive healing in Jyorei tipi, do prayers around the Hindu Yantra, a Tibetan stupa, Christian and African altars and a Jewish Sukkah. All of these can be visited. There is also a enriching program going on at the microphone.

Everyone you see has volunteered their time and talents.

Often there are children playing and adults talking quietly.

The entire community dances, chants or participates in story telling at periodic intervals.

Enjoy the wonderful evening programs under the stars with an opportunity to pray around the fire all night.
Everyone is invited to bring their musical instruments, songs, prayers, and chants on Sunday from 12:00 PM - 1:00 PM as we create the sound of people in Celebration and Prayer for Peace on Earth.

Click here to see our schedule of activities for 2008.

The Prayer Vigil for the Earth has met annually since 1993 arising from a vision on how to bring harmony to the peoples of the earth. Each year we meet to:

Seek Unity where there has been Division
Understanding instead of Conquering
Honoring where the need to Covet has prevailed
We come together to do this to seek out that commonality which links us to each other, the earth and to that expression of highest principle, which each tradition recognizes and yearns to share with each other.

From the Native Peoples – “We are all related”
From the Christian tradition – “Where two or more are gathered in God’s name”
From the Jewish and Islamic traditions – “There is only one God”
And from all other traditions not mentioned – “Unity and Understanding”
At the 2008 Prayer Vigil we are asking everyone to do the following:

To raise the level of tolerance to pioneer in a new consciousness.
To leave the dogma and proselytizing behind.
To allow yourself the opportunity to stretch to see other points of view.
To do more than share your faiths, traditions and customs – take it to the next level of honoring diversity.
To stretch beyond our own comfort zones to participate in the grand experiment to practice tolerance and peace.
To listen.
To be respectful and honor others without judgment.
To focus on our commonalities.
To focus on our relationship with the earth.
To let go of differences and separateness.
To BE in the place we are CHOSING to co-create.
To invite and encourage youth dialogues.
To participate in interfaith, multi-cultural dialogue.

My favorite part is: Often there are children playing and adults talking quietly. The entire community dances, chants or participates in story telling at periodic intervals. You know, we need lot more of that.

I'm taking a knitting class in the afternoon and then planning to head on over. Join me there, won't you?

/hat tip to my madcap friend, R.

All Acts Of Love And Pleasure Are Rituals Of The Goddess

Atrios says:

I do hope one day a bigger chunk of this country's population can be comfortable with the simple idea that there's nothing wrong with teenagers - even teenage girls! - having healthy and safe sex lives if they're so inclined. I think we've actually gotten more hysterical about the whole thing since I was a kid, and I grew up in the "if you have sex you will die" era.

Turns out that there's another country where the population already is comfortable with the idea that there's nothig wrong with teenagers -- even teenage girls! -- having healthy and safe sex lives if they're so inclined. It's in Holland:

In 1950s Dutch society, most young people began having sex when they were in their 20s and were married or engaged. During the 1960s, unintended teenage pregnancies rose alarmingly. Seeing this, family physicians and clinics were quick to make contraceptives easily accessible to youth. Dutch teen pregnancy and abortion rates are now among the lowest in the developed world.

National surveys show that most Dutch parents accept that young people choose to have sex in committed relationships during their later teens. Research I conducted found that a majority of Dutch parents are even willing to permit such couples to spend the night together in their homes, but only when they see that they have formed a loving relationship, feel ready for sex and understand how to use contraception responsibly. By accepting teen sexuality within these parameters, Dutch parents can stay involved, monitor relationships and urge proper contraceptive use.

This shift from a "marriage-only" to a "love-only" sexual ethic happened because parents, aided by honest and informative public conversations about sex, grappled with how to marry their aspirations -- about the children they wanted to raise and the relationships they wanted to foster -- to times that were changing. The result is an environment in which young people receive support from parents and other adults as they learn about relationships and wise sexual choices.

Look, as a society, we've decided that it's worth the costs for companies to be able to use sex to sell their products. Maybe that's good; maybe it's shitty, but it's not changing any time soon. We've decided that it's worth the costs for ranchers to be able to pump their animals full of hormones and antibiotics that cause teens to mature earlier than ever before. Maybe that's good; maybe it's shitty, but it's not changing any time soon. We've agreed that preserving patriarchy is so important that it's worth making young women grow up in a society where "having a boyfriend" may be the ONLY sign of personal validity. OK, I KNOW that's shitty, but it's not changing any time soon.

And then we act appalled when teen-age girls have sex. And then we deny them the information and the tools (aka condoms) that could help to prevent teen pregnancy. And then we all pay the costs of teen pregnancy, although the teen mothers and their kids pay a disproportionately high share of those costs and the ad agencies, ranchers, and patriarchs pay a disproportionately low share of those costs.

They're a lot smarter in Han's Brinker's land of tulips.

Mavericks In Washington And On Wall Street Got Us Into This Mess

Ancestors. At Samhein. No One Could Have Anticipated.

So, old news that on Wednesdays I get together w some other women, for ecstatic dance.

Last week and this week, we've been moved to do magic for America. It's one of the great blessings of my life that I get to live with these amazing women, to do magic and fix dinner and do laundry with them, to discuss driving voters to the polls with them.

This week, I've been worried about the racist shit that Palin's been stirring up and the real physical danger to Obama. And, so, that's where I've been directing my magic this week and it's where we dancers (how can you know the dancers from the dance?) directed our magic this evening.

Every morning, I drive past the Teddy Roosevelt Island, a wildlife sanctuary immediately across the river from Washington, D.C. (Are you the leaf, the blossom or the bole?) Every four or five months, I'm blessed to see, in the morning, the bald eagle who fishes snakes and fish and frogs out of the lazy estuary rivulet that forms the Eastern border of the island. (Oh body swayed to music, oh brightening glance) I saw the eagle soaring yesterday morning. It's a gift, it's Grace, it's god pouring god into god. That image figured in my working.

When I call North/Earth/Pentacles, I'm calling ancestors, bears, wolves, foxes, moose, caves, mountains, plains, stones, decomposing bodies, the power to be silent. What I learned, almost by accident, tonight, is that, if you call Obama's ancestors to come protect him, well, they will Show Up. No, really. They. Will. Show. Up. He can be protected from the racist hatred being stirred up against him. His ancestors -- from both sides -- will Show Up and deflect the danger.

I pass this along for others who are doing protective magic for him.

He stays safe through January 20th, when his own Secret Service, loyal to him, can take over. This is my will. So mote it be.

Photo found here.

Palin Manipulates Joe Sixpack

McCain Creates Palin To Preserve The Patriarchy

Fundies, They're LAUGHING At You!

You can't trust anything about this bitch. She's a complete and total phony.

You'd think Americans would get sick and tired of being played for fucking fools.


Fundies, I'm lookin' at ya.



Hat tip to Firedoglake, with thanks to montag.