A twisted tree stands in the hot wind on the red rock of Sedona, Arizona, a testimony of eternal time and the power of energy. The twisting of these trunks and branches is the outcome of the influence of the vortexes that this tree sits amidst.
I am walking up the red rock of Boynton Canyon. It is 2011. I have my travel pack, my drum, my prayers, my voice and my desire to be on the earth. I had thought I was going to Bell Rock, my favorite of all the vortexes. I am speaking to my friend Jane, who had graciously opened her home to me. I am looking at the map of the vortexes. I look up at Jane and say, “I am going up to…” I start to say Bell, and out of my mouth comes “Boynton Canyon.” I am so surprised. I laugh and say, “Whelp, I guess I am going up the canyon today.”
I set myself down approximately three tiers from the top of Boynton rock. To my right is the rock of the elders, above me is only sky. I take out my drum, blow out air, and settle in. My drum begins to sing as I send out the first beats of its heart. I close my eyes as the energy of the ancestors begin to gather.
People are moving around me. Climbing above me, gathering to my left, sitting below me. Above me a teacher and her three students are in prayer and meditation. They had arrived shortly after I began.
I think to myself, I need some sage. A young woman comes toward me, steps around me and sits down to my right. She says “I have sage” and takes out her sage stick and lights it. I drum on. After much time the drum ‘walks out’, her voice leading me to let her fade off.
I open my eyes, to my left is a group of 10 women who have been standing there. One of the women is very pregnant. She looks at me, tears in her eyes, and she says “you know the ancestors were dancing all around you.” I smile and shake my head yes.
The teacher which had been above me with her class, comes to sit below me and says “thank you, this is exactly what I needed in the background of where I was taking my people.”
I pack up my drum and start down the rock. Taking my time on this well-trodden path; so many footsteps have gone before me. I come around a slight turn, four women are coming up the path. One of the women says to me “are you the one that was drumming?” I say yes. Looking disappointed she says “we were coming up to sit with you as you drummed.” I turn around and lead them back up to where I had created sacred space.
I stand in front of these woman, and I DRUM. The voice of my beloved drum rings out, I can see the concentric circles of light that flood the air. Her voice dances across the air, going far and wide, through these women and beyond.
I finish, the women open their eyes, they have been crying. One of the women says to me “I have never met a master like you.” I am stunned. I weep. My knees want to buckle. I live for service. I love the creator, the masters who have represented for eons the great mystery, the eternity of all life.
In my heart I have felt and heard the joy of earth, and humanity. With my eyes and my intuition, I have watched the layers of suffering, heard the weeping of both.
War is upon us. Fires that scar the land, flooding, unmanageable heat. We the people of GOD are in the cross hairs of the crucifix.
Our survival is not only in deep question; our survival can only happen when we truly understand the no enemy way. The time of true communication with each other and spirit is being demanded.
Christ, on the cross looked at his mother and John and said “Mother this is your son, son this is your mother.” He meant that we are all one family. At a church service the prayer is “blessing unto you.” The response “and to you also.” We are one family. Aho Mitakuye Oyasin, all my relations. We are one family.
Consecrated, blessed, and anointed by the prayers of those who prayed us here, we are the anointed ones, sacred by our mere existence. Sacred beyond measure and understanding. Sacredness not hindered by capabilities of thought, emotion, physical ability, or any other limitation.
Depression and addictions. Always we have had both. Now brought to our attention, we are beholden to gather the communities, and find the tear that allows the bleeding out of such beautiful beings.
The right, the left, the up and the down matters for our experiences. What holds the most power is the center, for that is where all direction converges.
Demented, frightened, aggressively controlling, we have been willing to allow the darkness to ride our back. Grasping and groping, we are reaching towards a place of sacred survival. Yet, and importantly, we must pay attention on how we are walking in this world without excuse.
One by one, two by two, group by group we have been called to heal the dysfunction, the shattering of our joy, to give sound, like my drum, to the keening, weeping and singing that is within each of us.
In an organic way now, we will continue to come out of the dark. What/who will do this with us is our Earth. In a convoluted form, we shall be healed. We must serve the Earth, honor and cultivate its majestic transformation. We must mend our relationship with our most honored kin, Earth.
As we reset our own algorithms by being on her, by speaking with her, by letting her flourish, we as a community shall heal.
This is the value of our true survival. It is the most powerful service being called for. There has been a waiting, a prayer of faith emblazoned in each of our hearts. Sounding out there in the great ethers, pushed forward by the elders of all existence, the truest way to come into ourselves is to listen to the push.
This conundrum will give us what we so whisper for. Wholeness, contentment, love, the joy of experiencing great miracles. Of hearing the voice of spirit through the divine intersecting of our lives.
The twisted trees of our ancientness move us to our true and only purpose for now. We are the curators for Mother Earth, helping her bloom, for as above so below. The opening of her flowers, the running of her waters, the cooling of her winds, the deepening of her earth will open the true receptacles, allowing us to know without a doubt the messages from spirit. The connecting of heaven and earth.
We must do this now. Time runs. Sacred survival is the task. Sacred survival is the prayer. Sacred Survival is. Here is a song by Jim James “Of the Mother Again.” Listen well, our lives depend on it.