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June/July 2006 Volume 39Welcome to this bi-monthly edition of our newsletter! You will find these columns contained in our June/July issue:
Metaphors for Life
Carla Woody, Founder Metaphors for Life
GrowthWorks Bridges, Bees, Embers and Other Metaphors by Doug Easterling, Guest Columnist (Editor’s note: I was privileged to meet Doug Easterling when he traveled with our group last year to Apu Ausangate, a most sacred mountain in the Peruvian Andes. Doug has a beautifully, succinct and warm-hearted way of relating the core of things. When he posted the following message on our Salk’a Waikis discussion forum, I immediately requested his permission to share excerpts with you, which he generously granted. Later in this missive he mentions Sky-Y Camp in Arizona where he was a camp counselor many years ago, near a forested community called Groom Creek where I lived in the recent past. To my knowledge, he was a visitor and not a resident of Arizona. Just one of those little synchronicities Life likes to flip at us and fun to note. As I’m leaving shortly for Peru with this summer’s groups, I am happy to be reminded of the theme of Doug’s essay. And you don’t have to travel at all from home to catch the immediacy of its meaning. ~ Carla Woody) Everyone on our trip to Ausangate last summer was willing to "leave home" and to open themselves to a "foreign" way of being in the world (which became not nearly so foreign by the end of the trip). The bridge is now a quite familiar metaphor for people who move back and forth between different cultures. What I learned on the trip is that no one of us can serve as THE bridge. In other words, it takes a number of people working in synchronicity to span the chasm. On the Q'ero side, the elders came to realize that their ancient wisdom needed to be shared with those in modern societies who would respect it. But the elders by themselves couldn't reach far enough to the North and the West to share the teachings directly. Language and cultural differences, distance, and logistics were overwhelming. But don Benito, don Manuel, don Mariano, and other Q'ero elders were able to reach people like Américo, Juan and Alberto who constantly walk between the two worlds. Américo translated from Quechua into Spanish, but he needed Oscar to translate to English and he needed Carla to bring the students who would spread the teachings throughout the world. I regard everyone I've mentioned to be a support tower on a long suspension bridge between the two worlds. They create the bridge that allows us waikis* to travel back and forth. And then we serve as bridges to our own respective world back home. I like this metaphor in some respects, but it misses the dynamic relationship between the Q'ero and visitors. The worlds that are connected by the bridge are fundamentally altered through the exchanges that occur on our trips back and forth. We bring the teachings into our homes, our workplaces, industries, and communities, with the intent of waking them up to energies and possibilities that have heretofore been invisible. At the same time, the villages in the Andes we visit are exposed to the foreign ideas and new technologies we bring. We inevitably leave these energetic footprints and (we must learn) how to do this in a responsible, constructive way. Recognizing that people, environments, and cultures are influenced through our visits, I'd like to augment the bridge metaphor with the bee metaphor. In traveling back and forth between cultures, we are moving between flowers, picking up pollen from one plant and depositing it on another. This cross-pollenation process allows each plant to bear fruit. For example, with blueberries, you need two different types of blueberry bush for either to produce berries. We learned from the extension agent that bringing in bees does wonders for the productivity of a berry patch. Hopefully we'll serve that same role as we move between Peru and our own communities. The last metaphor I want to bring up comes from a story we used to tell at camp. Actually this was at Sky-Y Camp in the Bradshaw Mountains outside Prescott, AZ, where I spent a summer as a counselor (1976). The story goes like this. "A long, long time ago, there was an Indian village (let's say it was either Yavapai or Havasupai, given where the story was told). During a terrible storm, all the campfires and cookfires in the village were drenched. The people were at a loss as to how to they would survive without fire. Moreover, the village had kept the same fires going for so long than no one knew how to build a new fire. "One night, a child known for her visionary powers received a medicine dream. In this dream, Eagle took her to the top of the mountain outside the village. The girl saw that there was fire at this spot, and Eagle told her that this fire could be brought back to the village. However, Eagle also said that the people in the village had only three chances to bring the fire back to the village. If they failed on all three attempts, the fire on the mountain would extinguish. "The next day, the girl told her story to her parents, who then relayed it to the council of elders. The elders were thrilled with the news but perplexed at how they could actually bring fire back from a point 20 miles away. They put out an invitation for ideas. "The fastest man in the village stepped up and said that he could cover this distance in less than 2 hours and that by the time he reached the village, the fire would still be burning. So the elders gave him permission to try his hand. The young man found the fire just where the girl had described. He picked up a large burning stick from thre fire, blew hard on it to make sure it was flaming bright, and then took off with all his speed. Unfortunately he ran so fast that the fire blew out within a mile. "Dejected and apprehensive, the village council put out another call for someone who could successfully bring back the fire. The strongest man in the village came forward and said he would assume responsibility for the challenge. His strategy was to bring back as many burning logs as he could carry. Surely by the time he reached the village, at least some would still be burning. Unfortunately though, when the man started back down the mountain with his arms full, the burning logs crumbled to the ground and he was left holding nothing. "Now more desperate than ever, the village looked for someone who could serve as their hero and find a way to bring back the fire back. Knowing that the first two men had disgraced themselves, no one was willing to step up. Finally, the little girl who had received the vision approached the elders. She said, 'I think I remember a little more of my dream. Please let me try.' Although reluctant to entrust the task with such a young child, the elders also realized that she had unusual insight, and so they gave her their permission and blessing. "She walked to the spot on the mountain with the fire, reached in, and pulled out a glowing ember. She then wrapped the ember in a cocoon of green, moist mullen leaves, and began walking down the mountain. Because her legs were so short, it took her almost all day to reach the village. However, when she arrived and opened up the packet of leaves, there was still a faint glow in the ember. She put some dried twigs over the ember and began to blow. The ember turned red, then glowed more brightly. Gradually, the twigs warmed and began to smoke. And then flames jumped up. Everyone around her added wood to the fledgling fire, and soon it was a roaring bonfire." So, why did I take up your time with a campfire story from 30 years ago? Because it provides one of the best metaphors I know for the challenge that we all face when we bring the knowledge back home. We've all been indoctrinated with Joseph Campbell's description of the "hero's journey," where Ulysses, Luke Skywalker, et al. goes off to a foreign land, fights dragons or villains, and then comes home a hero with stories and wisdom. In those stories, the hero also happens to be the king, so he has the opportunity to translate the new wisdom into directives that permeate the larger society. However, those of us who travel with Carla aren't so priviledged or lucky (or maybe we are lucky). How do "normal" folks like us translate the wisdom for the others in our community? How do we bring the teachings to life? The story tells us that we'll lose the flame/wisdom if we run too fast or try to bring it all back in one bundle. Wisdom gets lost in transit (and in translation). But each of us has the ability to find that one ember that we know we can start our own fire with, a fire that will warm the village and bring light. That fire is still the same fire as the one on the mountain, but also a new one -- one that we have brought to life. *Quechua for cherished friend, brother or sister.
© 2006 All rights reserved. Carla Woody is the author of the book Standing Stark: The Willingness to Engage and Calling Our Spirits Home: Gateways to Full Consciousness and founder of Kenosis, an organization supporting personal transformation. Carla has long been leading people toward mind/body/spirit wholeness using integrative healing methods blended with world spiritual traditions. She may be reached by e-mail at info@kenosis.net or by telephone (928) 778-1058.Special Events
Review More often than not, the publications or music you will find reviewed here will not be new or “bestsellers.” Websites or organizations may not be well known. But all are spotlighted by virtue of their impact and value.
Full Moon Feast: Jessica Prentice is a chef in the San Francisco Bay area who is an avid proponent for locally grown foods, eating according to the season’s bounty and kinder, as well as environmentally sounder, ways of raising our food. In other words, she urges us back to tradition. Full Moon Feast is a book about food and more. It contains an insightful interplay that leads the reader through age-old stories from indigenous cultures, ones of appreciation and connection to what nourishes, to other stories of challenge and confusion related to relationship with food, something many of us have shared. Jessica advocates for small farmers who choose to uphold their commitment and passion toward their way of life. At the same time, she documents the ways of modern food production that have lost their humaneness, that encourages disconnection to our food sources and each other. The author calls us back to a more engaged, mindful way of nourishing ourselves. Not through warnings from various diet gurus, but by connecting us to what food once was, the circle of life, and what it can be again. Framed through the thirteen lunar cycles, she grounds the meaning and timing of food selection by our own natural rhythms. This book comforts and takes back to our roots – ones we have forgotten in the present world of fast food and nouvelle cuisine. And it’s full of tempting recipes like Salmon Cured with Maple and Juniper, Summer Berries with Lavender Créme Anglaise, or Sourdough Cheese Herb Scones. If you allow it, Full Moon Feast will deepen your appreciation for the food in your life and cause you to start searching out locally grown produce as it did me. - Carla Woody For additional information on Jessica Prentice, her full moon feasts in the Bay Area, her newsletter Stirring the Cauldron and more, see the review in the February/March issue of Kenosis In-spirations. Full Moon Feast is available through Wise Food Ways and bookstores. - Carla Woody | |||||||||||||||||||||
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