Dreaming the World

Sometime overnight a thunderstorm passed slowly through with welcome rain, bringing relief from the hot, sultry sleeplessness. This morning dawned dark, with a low overcast, and a spirited breeze from the northwest. The maple tree that frames the view from my office window is a Christmassy blend of red and green already, markedly turned since yesterday. Further towards the lake gusty looking clouds are rolling in from the mountains. Overhead, the crows are engaged in acrobatic flight, clearly enjoying the stiff breeze!

Last evening was our street’s annual party. For a while we’ve been a graying lot, but our street is rapidly changing and yesterday’s event was blessed with more young people and kids than in recent memory. It was splendid to have such diversity, and the reminder that life is cyclic and actively prone to renewal!

I, too, am in the process of change. For several years I’ve been told by my Polio team that Post Polio Sequelea is a progressive illness. This past year has forcefully demonstrate that, requiring me to finally pay attention. As a result, I am more focused on art making, writing, and creating photography, as well as on simply being with family and Mother Earth, and less on work, even as most of my friends remain deeply engaged in their work lives, and in raising children.  In the process I’ve discovered just how much of my social world is work centered.

An odd side effect of all this change is I find myself increasingly isolated. This is a disturbingly familiar experience, hearkening back to my childhood and young adulthood. Part of the challenge is that I have less energy, and have yet to figure out how to use it wisely; this is a moving target! Introversion and disability are also a challenging combination, and it probably doesn’t help that I have a very dry sense of humor! Now we can add aging and increasing mobility issues into the mix!

I’m approaching my 69th birthday, so find myself deeply embedded in the world of the West, and approaching the North.  (A gust of West Wind just blew through the room in agreement.) I like being asked to teach what I know, and see no need to charge exorbitantly for that. I’m bewildered by the idea one can become a shaman by taking an online course, and by the incessant fighting over who is or is not a shaman, or Native for that matter. It seems to me the spirits and genes choose who they will, and we can try to be useful when people need help sorting out their relationship to those beings. Sometimes I wish I had a thicker skin.

Here in North America we are heading into Autumn and the West, so I guess my musings and conundrums fit right in. In fall we are reminded that we are, after all, both individuals and part of the Whole Thing (both waves and particles?). We are also literally made from the water we seek to honor and protect.

Over to the west there are breaks in the clouds and patches of blue sky. I’m also hungry. Maybe it’s time to go out and see what surprises the world holds for the day.