Breaking Silence

It’s been awhile since I posted to this blog, for all the usual reasons–family obligations, other work, too much to say, no words to adequately say it, sheer exhaustion.  In the meantime, I’ve been posting assorted links to the Reclaiming Medusa Facebook page, which has given me a chance to get a sense of which of the many stories of our day resonate most deeply within my psyche.  Going forward, I hope to be able to post those here first, but at least for the next few weeks, due to other commitments, it will remain sporadic.

A few nights ago, I read a wonderful passage by Jeannette Armstrong in the 2010 We Moon calendar (p. 91) describing the Okangan Indian of having someone speak for each of the components that make up our world–water, air, elders, children, etc. as part of the community decision making process which also includes examining how any given decision will impact each of these components.  She writes,

There’s a built-in principle in terms of how we interact…Someone has to ask those questions…

…When we include the perspective of land and include the perspective of human relationship, one of the things that happens is that community changes.  People in the community change.  The realization that people and community are there to sustain you creates the most secure feeling in the world.

Many years ago, I was visiting with a friend whose young  child was on a streak of wild behavior.  She looked at him in exasperation and said, “You are making a lot of decisions, most of them wrong.”  I’m not sure that was the most pc way a super perfect parent would have phrased it, but it was a rather accurate observation from someone with the wisdom of seeing beyond the immediate time and space horizon of a toddler.

We live in a world where we seem to have about as much collective perspective as that adorable child had that morning way back when. As children do, he survived toddlerhood without too much damage and grew to be a wonderful young man.  The grownup inhabitants of planet earth on the other hand seem to be throwing one perpetual tantrum and are in serious need of time out.  One wonders what would happen if we were to mature out of this and adopt the wisdom of the Okangans.

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