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And the Birth of a New World - a short story -  Those of us who survived were the ones who had set out in search of the old ways, and the ones who had never lost them. We were few and far between on a planet that had been disowned by its own people more than two thousand years before. The people were possessed with a greed and evil that gave them a false arrogance, as if they were better and separate from the earth and all other living things. This greed led to pillaging her core, and destroying the balance that had held us here in harmony for hundreds of thousands of years before. The more that we extracted the heart of the earth by drilling for oil, mining for coal and precious metals, the more we killed her. Day after thousands of days chemical plants turned oil into plastic, plastic that couldn’t be returned to the earth for hundreds of years and filled the oceans and streets, leaching toxins into the air that killed all living things, and we wondered why we were sick and dying. The power that a handful at the top so greedily possessed had no end. It existed to tip the scales only their way. Except they didn’t realize that possessions and wealth would not bring them what they truly desired and the more power they took the more they wanted. Starting in the year twenty thousand and nineteen, fear and greed contributed to much death. The people didn’t know it but they were willing hosts when they were filled with fear and worry. Stress made their bodies weak and their minds gave way and failed to fight the pathogen. Then those at the top said they had the answer, and everyone, even those among us who did not want it or did not need it, had to take this medicine, or face a prison of sorts, one that limited their life and made it illegal for them to travel, or take part in anything they used to. This great coercion was what gave way to the final rise of arrogance. The powers that be had gained unimaginable wealth while the world suffered and writhed in pain and fear. My people came together at that time. We had to find each other. The world, under a spell, had shunned us and pushed us out of as many places as they could. They tried to exterminate us because our ideas were different. It made them more afraid. The powers didn’t even have to do any of this to us, the people did it for them, for they had begun to fear anything that was different than what the majority said. And the majority said what the media said, and the media said what the powers told them to say or their lives would be over. When we found each other, one by one, year after dreadful year, we shared with each other all we knew, we began to resurrect the ways of our ancestors who revered and lived in harmony with the earth. We rediscovered the knowing that we are no different from the earth and what we do to her, we do to ourselves. We had to meet in secret, because for many years people were not allowed to gather, it was dangerous they said, and they were looking out for and protecting us. They knew better than us they said, and if we gathered, not only would we be punished, we would be hurting others. So, we met in the forest in the night. We shared knowledge we could find in banned books, or if we were lucky enough to have one among us whose lineage had never forgotten the old ways, we listened deeply to them. After many years, and chaos all around, the earth who had been writhing in pain with our continual abuse, finally had no more to give. The balance was completely gone. She shook for 730 days. The earthquakes and tsunamis and fires killed almost everyone. And the ones who were left, only survived if they knew what we knew. Or if they decided that what we knew was worth knowing and embracing and asked to join us. Life is starting to show itself again. Trees and plants are beginning to grow and the invisible microorganisms that inhabit everything are hard at work to bring their mother back to life. For many years we survived on potatoes. It was all that would grow. But now we have carrots, and ginger, and onions. And just yesterday, when walking in the canyons I saw something that looked like a strawberry plant. Our council meets every night, around the fire that we lovingly build together. We share our hearts and stories that bring laughter or tears to our eyes. It is the circle that brings us life. It is the magic of the circle that harmonizes us and brings us back into balance with our great mother. Many of us remember the days of great greed. It lives in our cells. It is part of what catapulted us into this growth. We wouldn’t be who we are or where we are without it. That doesn’t mean that sometimes it doesn’t come into our subconscious as a painful memory. That doesn’t mean that we don’t mourn for those who we lost. The pain will always be there. But it is there only to remember the beauty. It is there to remind us of the sacredness of all life. It is there as a remembering of the intricate miracles of nature. Without darkness, after all, there is no light.
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 Last evening, sitting around after dinner, I mentioned to my 5 year old daughter Nunu that we could do something fun for summer solstice, like, write a letter to the sun. She stopped what she was doing and looked up at me, her face full of curiosity and wonder and said, "write to the sun??" I said, "Yes, we can write to the sun about how we love its glow and warmth and think of all the things the sun makes possible that we are thankful for." "Okay," she said, "we can write to the sun."
A little while later she called to me, urging me to come outside, that she was ready. She had two broomsticks, one for me and one for her. She was wearing her cowgirl hat and her rubber boots. "C'mon, let's go." I put the broom between my legs, broom side behind me and she laughed, a shocked kind of laugh and shook her head, "No Mama, this way." As she directed the "horse's" "head" to be in front of me. Okay, I see what we are playing I thought. "Now what?" I said. "Let's go!" She said. "Let's ride to the sun!" "Oh, you thought I said "ride" to the sun?" I asked, hoping that my correction of her idea would mean that I could take the broomstick out from between my legs. "Yeah!!" She exclaimed. "I meant, write to the sun, like write words." I explained. "Shall we go inside and do that?" "No, let's ride to the sun! Pleeeease." I looked at the sun, I looked at my baby, I realized she had a romantic idea and I wanted to go there with her. But I stalled. I tried to negotiate with her as I negotiated with my inner child. I then chose to let the boring adult in me not worry about all of the neighbors in the apartment building probably watching us romp around the parking lot on brooms, and let my inner child live a little. Of course Nunu wanted nothing but the best from me as we started to gallop around the parking lot. And so I galloped, and I galloped my best gallop. One day, she won't be asking me to play horse. The magical years of living in and playing out her imagination will be gone. Even if she becomes an actor or artist, she may succumb to societies pressures of only letting her imagination soar at "acceptable" times. And so I reveled in the choice to feel the beauty and magic of childhood, right now, right here with her. |
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