Following the wisdom of my ancestors, I walk the words to find the truth. Words are a path, the spaces between are the destination. To find a way between the words, you must walk the path and hear the deafening roar of silence.

"Who has not listened to hear the secret
stories of the land whisper from ruins or
forests, or the pages of ancient texts?"

Ari Berk~

Monday, April 6, 2009

I Go Like the Raven

"Woodpecker woman chip away, whittle,
Carve my name on a hick'ry fiddle,
Dance all night, dream just a little,
I go like the raven..."
~Dave Carter and Tracy Grammer~

Ravens, for me, have always been the most fascinating birds in myths, stories and legends. So many aboriginal, indigenous and ancient cultures have believed that the raven had incredibly powerful qualities influencing some, if not all, of their original creation myths, with this ubiquitous bird possessing different attributes for whichever group of people you study. The raven: sometimes the Fearful Harbinger of Woe or Reviled Scavenger of Death. Sometimes the Triumphant Herald of War bringing with it the assurance of victory, glory, and valor. Sometimes the sly, unscrupulous, cosmic Trickster. Sometimes the Revered Messenger of The Gods or, for some, the Creator of the universe itself. For some reason (or perhaps all of the above) I have always identified with the raven. It is, in fact, my "totem" animal - presenting one or more faces of its many faceted persona in my life at all times. Right now Raven seems to be the Herald of War, with my friend's upcoming fearsome battle with cancer as its manifestation. Here also at this moment in time is the ever-present Trickster (my personal favorite) because nothing in life ever *really* goes according to plan - somehow we humans think that we're actually in control of the outcome of any situation. Still... Recognizing that, I have decided to try and summon the Revered Messenger of The Gods, inviting that particular spirit aspect to come, sit down and have tea with me - so that I can ever-so-calmly (and, of course, with great respect) say,"Okay, you sly bastard, let's get to work here to make this right. I want to be able to shout from the rooftops about the demise of my friend's illness". Then I step back, take a breath, and realize once again that this, too, is out of my control. It's an unrelenting, ongoing and sometimes vicious struggle for me to bear in mind that this has nothing to do with what *I* want. This is a journey that my friend is on and I am merely the "wingwoman", as it were. I will coordinate the schedule of rotating cooks, visitors, helpers, drivers, shoppers and advocates. But I pray that as I do so Raven will be covering my back, sitting upon my shoulder whispering wise words, clearing the path ahead of obstacles, and flying shotgun for me. I pray that the wild, fierce, warrior energy of Raven will be able to partner with the peaceful, gentle, healing energy of good health. I pray most fervently for my friend to be well. And, since I am in full-on prayer mode, I would ask for one more thing...let the "ravens of unresting thought" (thank you, Mr. Yeats) be stilled, so that I may fasten my seatbelt, hold on to my hat, and get on this roller-coaster with a clear and accepting heart. So that I, too, may go like the raven.

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