The Secret Of Thanksgiving

November 26, 2009 at 12:32 pm (Nature Awareness, Village Nature)
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One thing I'm grateful for: my spring garden in late fall!

Across the US folks are gathering today with family and friends, or just enjoying (as my own family is) a sweet time at home to celebrate Thanksgiving. No matter what tales and folk-myths we carry about the first Thanksgiving, the point is that giving thanks is one of those “cultural elements” — those practices that are universal to (dare I say) all cultures. In fact, you might call it an essential honest expression or gesture in any culture that knows itself.

Okay, if we look at postmodern American culture, we might be hard-pressed to say that the US culture “knows itself”.  Our overtly selfish, greedy, irresponsible, grab-all-you-can and hang the consequences nation pays lip service to Thanksgiving. But is Thanksgiving woven into the real fabric of who we are as a nation, as citizens?   I look to the Iroquois Confederacy–the Haudenosaunee (the People Of The Longhouse)–whose hundreds year old democracy on this good soil so values gratitude and its gifts that the people in this cultural tradition begin every morning, every gathering (including political) in “bringing their minds together as one” and giving thanks.

What a beautiful practice! But not just being beautiful, it is a practical practice. When we give thanks –

for the people around us
the earth
the waters
bacteria and other microorganisms
the insects and spiders
the herbs
the finned ones
the animals
the trees
the birds
the air we breathe
the clouds and weather
the moon
the sun
the stars
the creative and imaginative principles and spirits
the Creator, Divine, Mystery
the universe and the future generations
and anything and everything else that springs into our hearts and minds –

– when we take the time and make the space to truly honor and celebrate the individuals in the web of this event and adventure we call life, then we bring our whole selves in balance with all that is. We know ourselves to be part of a generous life-giving cosmos, and we are essential to the fabric of creation.  We become a means that the cosmos, the divine knows itself.  Even more immediate: we know ourselves to be woven to the people right next to us. Who they are matters. What they are worried about matters. Giving thanks takes us out of our hidebound selves and places us into an intermingled concept of who we are.

In a very practical sense, when we give thanks for the many blessings in our life we enhance our awareness of these many things. Giving thanks from the heart (not just lip service) opens us to caring for all things, and deepening a felt knowledge that we are integral to the celebration–that there is a celebration taking place right now around us. A cause-and-effect begins: when we give thanks for the heart, and make that a daily practice, we find much more to be thankful for. We discover the abundance that is everywhere in our lives. Perhaps abundance even increases as a result, as synchronicities and everyday miracles are revealed or come into play because we are able to witness them. We grow in our inner strength and assurance, and develop an “upright mind”.

I’m not going to try to define an “upright mind” — just sit with those words and feel them in your cells, bones, being. Better yet, sit with your back to a tall tree, and contemplate those words, or better yet again–offer Thanksgiving–and you’ll sense what I mean.

It is said that Benjamin Franklin and other founding fathers were fascinated by the Haudenosaunee and their democracy, and that many elements of Haudenosaunee democracy and their Great Law Of Peace found some form in our own US Constitution (I invite you research this topic and see what you discover.  See the book The U.S. Constitution And The Great Law Of Peace: A Comparison Of Two Founding Documents or search on the web). Imagine if true thanksgiving and bringing together of minds were to find their way in honest fashion in the conduct of our government! Hm. I just love the vision of the possible.

But in the meantime, it can’t really happen–not in the self-absorbed, uninitiated, stumbling, crumbling structure that is our republic at this time. But it can begin with where you and I are. Where we honestly make the time and space to celebrate the incredible beauty and bounty of existence and of ourselves and fellow beings in relation to that and each other. It is said that the the dawn chorus–birds at sunrise, bursting into song–are offering Thanksgiving. May we find ways to do so that become as natural as waking up, as fixing a meal, as saying hello, and wiping a tear from a loved one’s eye. It all begins right where we are.

American culture does honor Thanksgiving–at least one day a year. But I think if we look around in our own lives we can find where gratitude is alive and well, or at least alive, in our families and communities-of-heart.  The roots of heart-centered culture begin right where we are.  We are the true America, redefining, remaking, redeclaring itself.

How do you offer Thanksgiving in your day, everyday? What are your thoughts and insights on gratitude? What are you grateful for right here and now? Please share your words here! We can all begin right where we are to bring our hearts/minds together as one ….

Resources:

Below are two great children’s picture books on giving thanks.

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How I Experienced Village At A Harp Gathering

July 20, 2009 at 10:35 am (Chickens, Harp, Song, Village Nature)
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Magical creatures in their village nature, celebrating in a harp circle

Magical creatures in their village nature, celebrating in a circle of harps

Whenever we share what we love we are invoking our village nature. Even events as simple as a harp gathering at a local city library can be an example of an essential way of being with each other that in the past nurtured the unity and spirit of the community, and often its very survival.  I’d like to suggest that consciously nurturing our Village Nature wherever it might possibly appear nourishes our own spirit–a spirit that can be sadly depleted by the stresses and concerns of day-to-day living in a culture that doesn’t always value its citizens for just who they are and for the unique gifts and dreams-woven-into-one’s-soul that are for each one of us to live.

What is Village Nature?  Allow me to play tour guide, using the Harpers Hall gathering and Peace Hour event as an example, and offering some (I hope) food for thought:

1. The Central Fire

(What?  I hear you think:  “There was no fire at the Harp Gathering, was there?!”  Maybe and maybe not.  Read on!)

For millennia we humans have gathered around fires to share food, warmth, story, song, and community.  Gathering around a fire can be a sacred event, and even today, a simple coming together around a campfire weaves unity among a group, and a sense of peace and reflection.  For peoples through the ages, unity and the ability to return to unity when discord erupted was key to survival.  Preparing the fire, keeping it going, and gathering around it in relatively peaceful, focused fashion served to restore oneness of spirit in restless times (have you ever noticed how hard it is to get a fire going or to keep it going when folks are annoyed with each other or paying attention to ten thousand other things than being together?  Fire has an uncanny way of reflecting back to us who we are in the moment!)

So: at the Peace Hour & Harp Gathering there was no central fire as such.  However, we did all gather in a semi-circle, with the audience completing that circle, and in the center of that circle was … our intent.  We gathered for a specific purpose, to join with other harpers across the globe to play for peace.  For an hour we played for Peace, and we were connected with each other in this intent, and with our audience, and with others all over the world, both in that hour, and in subsequent hours as harpists played at 2PM in their own time zones.  Talk about Unity!  And talk about connecting with something larger than oneself, with something cosmological, if you will.  A Central Fire connects with the spirit fire in our hearts, and with fire in all its forms, including the stars, and with Spirit/the Universe/Mystery/you- name-it-or-not, itself.

Not only that, but I believe that the harps–the archetypal quality, the beauty, resonance, and mythic nature of each one, and the ability of the harp to evoke and invoke tranquility of spirit (even the most rollicking tunes played on a harp can cause a listener to sigh in delight: ‘Oh, how peaceful, how soothing!’  It used to exasperate me to no end!) were like the “flames” of that fire.  Indeed, before 2PM, as we gathered, set up, tuned our harps, made the space ready for our playing, it was a kind of readying of the fire circle and the central fire, of gathering the kindling and preparing for the sustaining nature of a fire dedicated to peace and community.  Verlene Schermer as “fire keeper” set the fire glowing with a few words welcoming everyone to the space, introducing us and our intent.  Then we really got the flames snapping and crackling as Verlene led our group in playing “Dona Nobis Pacem” as a round.   This piece was one of two or three tunes suggested by the Harpists For Peace to be played for the Peace Hour.  And indeed during the piece we came together in a “harmony of harps”, the music sparking and flaring as we settled in with one another and with our particular ‘fire’.

What followed were solos and more group pieces, a continual feeding of the fire of the gathering for the Peace Hour, a fire that included the listeners more and more actively as it progressed.  The fire was banked as “coals” when the Peace Hour ended and we broke for chatting and cookie nibbling, then resumed in a gentle way as we resumed our gathering, this time improvising on simple chord progressions, a melody, and a favorite Harpers Hall piece so that a few children who’d stayed with us could easily join in on playing along too.

At the end, we broke our circle, and restored the room to just how it was before we entered, just as folks would do with a fire, clearing all traces, and leaving the space better than it was.  I’m sure the music and harmony has stayed on, blessing that room!

2. Everyone Is Welcome (A Community Of Belonging)

In Village Nature, every babe, child, youth, young and middle-aged adult, young elder and late elder is welcome and appreciated for just who they are and their unique self and expression they offer.  Since its beginning Harpers Hall has always welcomed harpers and harp afficionados of all ages and all levels.  We aim to create a welcoming space so that everyone can participate in the magic of making music with the harp–even if they’ve never played the harp in their lives!  Just so at the Peace Hour.  Several harpers brought extra harps, and one piece we played was dedicated to inviting the audience to play with us–to take up one of these small harps and pluck the notes we oriented them to that would harmonize with the piece.  This sense of welcome was extended into the informal harp circle after the Peace Hour, during the group improvisations.  I do believe more than one harper was born in the afternoon!

In the Peace Hour, we harpers of all levels had been invited to share solos. I loved hearing my friends and colleagues offering expressions of themselves in the music they chose and played, and what they had to say about the pieces they chose–further expressions of themselves indeed!

So in a simple event we enjoyed Village Nature–engaging consciously or not in something fundamental to our humanity, to a whole spirit, whole nature way of being.  How much more deeply might we go to restoring this nature in our everyday lives if we were to practice glimpsing it in any interaction we have that have with one another that has heart?

3. Finding Village Nature In The Everyday

I’ve only mentioned two Village Nature — or “cultural”– elements here.  Many more simple practices and awarenesses exist that encourage a particular resonance, a oneness of mind, heart, and spirit, an appreciation of each other and a curiosity to get to know each other for who we are the heart of our nature.  As you attend your next meetings, for business or fun, or even just one-on-one, pausing in conversation, I invite you to play with these ideas:

  • What is the central fire at the heart of your coming together?  In what way is the ’space’ created for this fire?  How do you ignite it, tend it, sit by it, and end it?  Do you allow it to die away, or do you do something to mindfully extinguish it?  Afterward, do you or someone else ‘clear the space’ in some way, leaving where you were (physically or metaphorically) better than you found it?  You might do this by reflecting on the time that just past–did something positive emerge from it that carries on in some way?
  • How are you coming together in a “community of belonging”, welcoming each other as the unique beings we all are with our own “music” to express?  As villagers in this moment, who are you?  Is one of you more experienced, offering some sort of elder wisdom in your exchange?  Is one of you filled with the fire and vision of the youth?  Or are you “mature adults” in a similar place of experience and service, in your stride?  Does everyone involved respect and appreciate where each other is on their journey and in their expression?  Is there someone (or two or three …) who does this especially well?  How does he or she do this?
  • In our harp gathering the harps themselves served as flames of the fire.  If you are gathering over something you’re passionate about, how is that thing (sport, hobby, learning, activity …) contributing to the life of the fire, acting as those lively flames?
  • Let your imagination run wild!
For my daughters and I, our love of chickens is our sacred fire. We spend ours in the company of these lively, grumbly, cheerful "flames"

For my daughters and me, our love of chickens is our sacred fire. We spend hours soaking in the plain old chicken ways and wisdom of these lively, grumbly, cheerful, and sometimes absurd villagers.

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Returning To The Fire

July 9, 2009 at 8:06 pm (Nature Awareness, Village Nature)
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Last night our family trekked over hill and over dale to the village of Pescadero on the San Mateo Coast.  At a retreat center amidst oak and redwood forest I looked forward to connecting with the nature community of this area, and to once again hearing naturalist and founder of Wilderness Awareness School – Jon Young speak on what he calls Cultural Mentoring.  The ideas, concepts, practices, and experiences that Jon Young has pulled together in his 26 years of mentoring nature awareness to people of all ages–and which Wilderness Awareness School and many other nature schools also offer — have connected more deeply to my heart and imagination than anything else in my entire adult life.  That’s a powerful statement to make!  But, truly, it has been through experiencing my surroundings and community with “native eyes” — the heart, soul, expanded awareness, curiosity, and aliveness and wildness of someone who is truly woven into one’s place — even in my own baby ways of connection and perception, that has pulled me forward, grounding my imaginings for an enchanted, luminous, and richly-textured life into something real.  In these glimpses and experience of the possible I have experienced true magic.

In a nutshell (or, I might say, ‘in an acorn’), Jon Young was invisibly mentored (i.e., without him realizing he was being led) in nature awareness by Tom Brown Jr., who was mentored by an Apache scout he calls “Grandfather”.  Only in his young adulthood did Jon realize that he had a relationship and awareness of the natural world that was absolutely outside the realm of perception of most everyone he knew–including naturalists.  In devoting himself to understanding what had happened to him, and how it had happened, and in studying the methods of hunter-gatherer cultures in passing on their learning, Jon Young mapped, set into practice, articulated what he now calls “Coyote mentoring”–a process of leading out of another’s gifts by facilitating an expanded awareness through all one’s senses into a deeper relationship with the surrounding world and one’s inner world.  By extension Coyote mentoring also includes “Cultural Mentoring” — the invisible effects of elements of culture on learning.  Conscious work with Cultural Mentoring nurtures a community wise in the ways of natural connection, and fluent in the language of facilitating relationship.  The natural learning model Jon created based on these principles is what he calls the 8 Shields Mentoring Model–a model that can be applied to any situation and community structure, from individual classes, to groups, to business organizations, and beyond.

While foreign to most of us in our severed culture, the principles of Coyote mentoring (fostering connection and leading out the gifts of another) and Cultural Mentoring (the means in which a community invisibly passes on its skills and knowledge and culture) are embedded into our blueprint as human beings.  Once we actually experience this subtle learning in action and become aware of what’s going on, a switch flips on within us, and we know it.  With enough experiences of our own, we can’t help but practice it.

Woven into this style of learning and leading forth (by the way, the word “education” comes from the Latin: ‘educare‘ which actually means ‘to draw out’ or ‘to lead out’) are what Jon Young calls ‘cultural elements’.  These are universal practices that he has identified in hunter-gatherer cultures that facilitate learning and relationship, connection with self, others, and with the natural world, and in doing so nurture a thriving, healthy community.  In their simplicity lies their elegance, and, when mindfully practiced, something profound.  Elements such as Greeting customs (ensuring that everyone feels welcome and in connection), Gratitude, Sit Spot (having one’s own private spot in the natural world to soak it all in), Story Of The Day (telling of your experiences to an interested other), and many, many more become powerful pathways to the heart when intentionally activated in oneself and (especially!) in community.

These concepts and my experiences of them in community tug and yank and weep within my imagination.   In our family’s transition and isolation, the ah-ha’s and through-my-whole-self emotions had subsided into the subterrain of my soul–remembered as vital to my well-being and life, but not truly felt.  Now, in Pescadero, they spring awake.  The upward spiral song of the Swainson’s Thrush is the first to call me out of some numbness of soul I hadn’t even known I’d had.  This glorious flute-like song is only heard for perhaps six weeks in early summer on Vashon Island, and then that’s it for the year.  And here in Pescadero, I am blessed to hear this song once more!  Awakened by the music I notice huge leaves of plantain at the roadside, and the long-leaf plantain near a big-limbed tree that Gwynne and I subsequently climb.  In the forest: stinging nettle, long and lanky with flowers, and too late to harvest.  But perhaps next year?  And Himalayan blackberry of course, in abundance.  And was that Thimbleberry with its soft “nature’s toilet paper” leaves back at the head of the road?

Of course I know the Coastal Redwood (my spirit tree, if ever there is one), and Oak, and Acacia (from which I suffered terrible allergies from every spring as a teen).  But I don’t know the name of the tree we climb, or many others of the pine nature.  Still, walking at the edge of these woods, with wild and domesticated life (goats, chickens) nearby, my senses saturated, I realize just how subtly sterile my life has been since we moved away from Vashon, even while sporadically practicing nature awareness and doing our best to be in community.   The lack of intimacy with the nature of my place has parched me more than I realize.

Before the talk begins, two youths from a Nature Awareness teen program in this area, prepare a fire using materials gathered from outside and bow drills they had made.  Few things are more powerful and astounding to me than youth preparing a fire in this way, in community.  They (and their instructor, Mark Batchelor) welcome children to contribute to the preparation of the fire, and guide them in gathering kindling or breaking pieces to a certain length.  Then that magic as a coal ignites and is gently placed into a nest of moss and fine kindling.  A few of us blow it into flame, the tinder bundle being carefully passed around as we all sing a Fire Song (known to my family from our own nature community experiences back in Washington).  With this 40,000 year (or more) universal ritual played out here in our new community, I feel myself poking around at some tattered parts of my psyche, prodding bits of dim coals back to the fire of life.

Central fire

Central fire

It is time, Time, TIME for my family to gather up the dormant threads and resume and deepen our wise village, wise nature living — to discover what that is for us now, and dig deep with it, have fun with it, return to full life in it.  On Sunday in the radio interview I’ll be talking about being a bardic harper in modern America, but really “bard”, “harper”, “healer”, or whatever, are only roles I assume at various times and from which I work some kind of out-in-the-world magic.  Who and what I am at the heart of it all is Jane in her everyday life.  It is how I live with my family, myself, my communities, my nature that really matters.  If I believe anything to be of value, I must find a way for it to naturally find its place right where I am.  Or to at least try.  It is intolerable for me to live any differently.

Ken Clarkson on banjo and Jon Young on guitar sing & play "BINGO" at the kids' enthusiastic request

Ken Clarkson on banjo and Jon Young on guitar sing & play "BINGO" at the kids' enthusiastic request

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