August 22, 2023
After my last post, I thought I might leap back in to blogging, but each time I sit down to write, I find myself wondering about whether to continue the blog — and, if so, how?
In her book Cacophony of Bone, Kerri ní Dochartaigh quotes an unnamed person as saying: ‘What are you ready to share? To speak into being? … Can you allow whatever has been on your heart to come forward?’ Then she repeats the questioning : “Well can I? I have no idea if I can, or how I would even begin.”
………..
Just NOW, as I was typing the last words above, I heard a loud bump on the window. There was a young red-shouldered hawk sitting on the ground, below the bird feeder placed close to the house. I saw him look around, re-orienting himself. Imagining that he had tried to seize a tasty feast of finch or wren, I watched to be sure he was alright. The sight of that splendid bird, grounded, filled me with such awe that I could do nothing but stand there, taking his beautiful being into my heart. At last it occurred to me that I might take a picture to show you. It took me a moment to get the phone ready to go. I paused to zoom in, to get it the shot “perfect.”
Suddenly, my foolish concerns were brushed aside as he spread his great wings and erupted into flight, returning to the element from which he came. Startled, I pressed the button as I staggered back. Focusing on the making of an image, I missed the reality of seeing the full majesty of his flight & his disappearance into the woods.
I was left with this….
Some things are perhaps, like Trickster, not meant to be captured ….
He was a hawk, living as hawks do, searching for nourishment. And I am a human, living as humans do, searching for nourishment of a different kind, searching for meaning. Was it merely coincidence? My mind comes up hard against the synchronicity, knocking me down as surely as the collision with house knocked the hawk to the ground. My heart wants to spin meaning, to weave tapestries of meaning. Was this sudden happening the answer to my questions? Or was it another question? Or something else entirely?
The way in which I choose to tell myself the story will create the path — or the crossroads — that I discern, the next step I choose to take….
August 23, 2023
And again today, coincidence continues….
I randomly picked up a book from one of my piles to read at lunch — What Kind of Ancestor Do You Want to Be? When I opened it, again randomly, I found myself reading a lovely essay by Gavin Van Horn — a meditation on his relationship with Lake Michigan and with the ocean. In it, he doesn’t answer the title’s question directly but seems to follow Emily Dickenson’s advice: “Tell all the truth but tell it slant.”
Nearing the end of his essay, Van Horn tells of his encounter with a gull:
“Can you expect answers from water? …… A gull pondered me, a quizzical look in his red-rimmed eyes, wondering if there were crackers in my backpack. I had none. He tacked left, then right, faced me again. I thought he might have a message to deliver from the ocean.
“From ancient Greece to Tibet, India to Polynesia, birds are messengers, flying like dreams between our earth-bound existence and the realm of the sky. Augury: the practice of looking to birds to know the will of the gods, from which comes the word auspicious. We take the auspices, grope for indications of benevolence.
“Even within the cosmologies that feature more anthropomorphic deities, the messenger birds persist — or parts of them do — in the guise of angels. Real birds, however, possess the advantage of being more visible than most angels, and therefore more consistently available for interpretation.
[…….]
“All of us… need assurance from somewhere, a favorable nod in our direction, an indication that we are on the right track. Think of augury as ethology with benefits.”
“Do you have a message for me? I ventured cautiously to the gull. I don’t need to fight a war or plant a field. I just want to know how to mend what feels as though it is breaking.
“The bird paced between me and the ocean, paused, offered a slight turn of his head. I waited. The ocean murmured. The gull remained silent. Last chance I said, daring the bird.
“Soon it became clear I’d get no magic. Gulls have their own business to attend to, their own company to keep. I wanted answers — from the gods, the earth, nature, our animal kin — some backing, some revelation from outside to quell the doubt within.
“I instead received a different message: The world might indeed speak, but it doesn’t speak to me alone. The gull is full of its own gullness. If that’s not enough for me, I’m asking the wrong questions.
“So, we looked at each other, the gull and I. We shared the beach and contemplated the briny smell of the wind together. The ocean murmured. I exhaled. This is enough. Why ask for more when so much is given? “
–by Gavin Van Horn from his essay “The City Bleeds Out (Reflections on Lake Michigan)” in What Kind of Ancestor Do You Want to Be?
August 24, 2023
And here I am. Still curious. Still filled with awe and wonder.
Perhaps, in all this pondering, I have not found “answers”
to the questions with which I began this post.
But I do feel more open it whatever may come.
I give thanks to the writers I have quoted here and,
most of all, to the hawk.
May he fly free!
**********
And, finally, a poem by Garcia Lorca for this season (inner & outer):
“August.
The opposing
of peach and sugar,
and the sun inside the afternoon
like the stone inside the fruit.
The ear of corn keeps
its laughter intact, yellow and firm.
August.
The little boys eat
brown bread and delicious moon.
by GARCIA LORCA
Sharing Trickster's Hoard 
Thank you, all of this has touched a deep chord.
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I have sat for the past two weeks, opening my heart, realizing that a place can grab hold of you and anchor itself deep down inside and most of the time, your awareness of its place in your heart and soul, stays hidden…I am speaking of Maui.,a place I lived in for almost two years in 2002; a place where the natural beauty of the land and the people are an immeasurable gift. A place where ancient history and spirit stories tell of struggle and how community and love of the land and each other, kept them going. It is my belief that this will continue….
To try to understand my profound sadness and deep feelings that seemingly rose up and surprised me on Aug. 8th, I looked at some of my photos from our time in Maui; in particular, photos of Lahaina and the 150 yr old Banyan tree where I spent time wandering about her, marveling and feeling that I was in the presence of the sacred. But photos and memories were not enough so I turned to one of my most special books, Voices of Wisdom, Hawaiian Elders Speak by MJ Harden, a Maui native and photography by Steve Brinkman. The book consists of interviews with 24 elderly Hawaiians speaking of Nature,, Spirituality and Healing,Preservation and History,, Activism, Dance, Chant Genealogy and Music, Arts and Craft, Canoe and Next Generation. So many stores that I have read and re-read but this time, I kept coming back to the story in the chapters on Nature by Maui native and Park Ranger Eddie Pu.
From 1976,( he died in 201)2, he made what he called his “spiritual” walk, 30 trips around Maui, walking over 6,000 miles starting in Hana, his home. He said,”the aina” (land) is my whole life. Without her,I can’t enjoy. I sense that the land provides energy…that’s where my energy comes from- the sun, the land.” He added, “when the wind blows, the leaves are waving-they’re smiling. When you throw a rock into a pool and the ripples go out- the water is smiling. that’s the energy.That’s what I call my energy.”
As I have been mourning Maui, especially Lahaina and upper Kula, I lived not far from there, I take comfort in my readings: Caring for the land, acknowledging and respecting all of its gifts; opening our hearts in good times and the unforeseen bad times; coming together in shared vision and resilience is how to go on. Love is energy, Resilience is in the marrow of the people of Maui, And opening our hearts in connection, is life…Maui strong!
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Margery, I just now sent another comment but please disregard it. I failed to realize that you were reading comments before posting. By the way, it is so good to see you posting; it simply doesn’t matter how often you post…we will always wait for you. Thank you. (you do not need to post this comment!)
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(I left a long comment last night that simply danced into the air. Thought well maybe it does not need to be here but then I re-read this quote, “can you allow whatever is in your heart to come forward…”. and knew I wanted to share what has been in my heart since Aug. 8th)
Maui is in my heart and the depth of how it lodged in, has caught me off guard. We lived in Maui for almost two years, moving there in 2002, to a town near Kula, the upcountry of Maui. Kula has suffered as well from the devastation in Maui.
Why am I putting these words here? I am doing so because I needed to examine my heart. I am a child of immigrants from Spain but Spain has never called to me; my heart’s landscape has always been Ireland. It is only now, with this tremendous tragedy in Maui, that a crack opened into the depths of my heart and I realized that there are those places that get tucked into your heart and stay there as you go about your life…Aug 8th dislodged that hidden place and brought Maui to the forefront…I was astonished at the depth of my sorrow and love for the people, for the land, for the beloved 150 yr old Banyan tree where I had sat on the ground near to the tree, marveling at the sacredness of being in her presence…
Moving to Maui was not my dream, it was my husband’s but what I found there was a love of community, of the land, of connection, that I had not expected to find…this is what lodged deep in my heart. BUT memories and photos,while a temporary salve, were not enough so I turned to one of my favorite island books, Voices of Wisdom, Hawaiian Elders Speak written ,by MJ Harden, photography by Steve Brinkman. Twenty four elders spoke on many topics ranging from f Nature to Spirituality, History, Preservation to Activism, Dance to Craft, etc. On the book cover, a photo of Eddie Pu, of Maui, a Park Ranger…His words were what I needed to re-read.
Starting in 1976, he made 30 trips walking around Maui, covering over 6,000 miles. His treks re-balanced him with the energy of the “aina” the land after speaking and teaching over 2,000 people a day. His words: “”The aina is my whole life. Without her, I can’t enjoy. I sense that the land provides energy…that’s where my energy comes from- the sun, the land.” He also said, “When the wind blows,the leaves are waving- they’re smiling. When you throw a rock into a pool and the ripples go out- the water is smiling. that’s the energy. that’s what I call my energy.”
I am ashamed to admit that it took this catastrophic event for me to open my heart to the gifts I received from living in Maui. It is one thing to visit as a tourist, it is another to become, even for a time, part of a community… The people hold, the land holds and it does through innate strength, through the understanding of history and tradition, through love of the aina and for each other- Collective Energy…it is this energy that defines community and is what has made and will continue to make, Maui Strong.
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Thank you, Marti, for both of these 2 deep and thoughtful “comments” — reminding us so beautifully of the true meanings of Land/Place and Community, and showing how these relate to you personally now, in the aftermath of the Maui fires. Your words help me remember to pause & truly take in the many dimensions of the destructions so common in our current world — each a personal story for the Land and its People.
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