|
Planting Hope in the Darkness
By Jim Norgaard
“Plant Hope in the dark clouds, the black soil, and you shall see Spring.”
These are the words of spirit that carried me through the dark of this past winter on into these brightening days. I spoke them like a mantra whenever facing the shadows of war, the despair of my friends, and our collective discouragement over last November’s election. The Winter of our discontent would prove long and bitter if we simply railed against it, and might fill even the best of us with anger or despair. As a teacher and healer in the Celtic Spiritual tradition I could not afford to lose myself in this way. Too much of my work is predicated on the wisdom of the wheel and the ever-turning seasons. “Have trust, plant seeds, and carry your own light through the seasons of darkness” it said, “for this is the way of all life.”
I remember arriving at one of my workshops last year when the change occurred. I had already made all my plans for a “Triple Spiral” healing: my own Celtic-inspired approach to balancing the life energies of Earth, Sky and Sea. Using shamanic work and Celtic Body Prayers, we would each move towards healing our own “original wounds” as I had done successfully so many times before. Yet when I began to speak, a deep voice arose within me calling for something new to be served. I believe it was the voice of Gaia and my ancestors that reshaped my work on that day. Here is what it said:
“You have worked so long and hard to heal yourself through many paths: inner-child healing and affirmations, body prayers and breath work, men’s and women’s work, shamanism and various psychotherapies. These approaches have born you fruit, but now is the time of the quickening when two-leggeds must fully come of age. Now you must awaken to the greater common wound that connects you all. There are 7 billion story lines in the human drama, all variations on a theme. Discover what that great common wound is and truly work with it, and you can help heal the ancestors and the wounds of Gaia today.”
Since that workshop, all of my individual healing sessions now touch upon the great collective wound of humankind.
I have been guided in my new vision by ancient tales passed on to us from our ancestors. And I have been led, not surprisingly, to some contemporary Celtic poet-healer-shamans who likewise are working with the common wound today. The wonderful Welsh poet David Whyte is one. He probes deeply the common wound of humankind in his poetry, and has uncovered remedies for it in the life example of Nelson Mandala. Whyte notes that during his quarter century confinement Mandala refused to view his wounding and imprisonment as a personal affront. Rather he saw the great common wound that he shared with his prison guards, and he treated himself and them alike with the greatest of dignity. Says Whyte of Mandala: “He finally emerged after his long dark winter with an absolutely infectious, absolutely genuine sense of humor and hard-won compassion and respect for others. This is a man who transformed even his own jailers.”
Another rich source of sustenance for us as we seek our common healing is contemporary Celtic author, poet, and shaman Frank MacEowen. Frank’s most recent books, The Mist-Filled Path and The Spiral of Memory and Belonging, have inspired many, and show a deep understanding of “the quickening” that is upon us all on planet Gaia. His accompanying poem entitled “The Common Wound” describes so beautifully, so poignantly, the territory we two-leggeds have traversed over time together. In the next issue of Healing Garden Journal we will interview Frank MacEowen, exploring his life and works, and inviting him to describe his approach to healing our common wounds.
Jim Mullin-Norgaard is a peacemaker, life coach, and student of the Celtic Spirit. He is the originator of “Celtic Body Prayers” which he teaches at his new retreat center, Tara’s Meadow, on Beaver Island, MI.
The Common Wound
By Frank MacEowen
We have come so far,
yet we have so far to go,
before we will see the road
that brought us here,
with true eyes
and open hearts.
We cannot be whole until everything is owned.
We can keep the book of our journey,
on a dusty shelf,
in a back room,
or,
we can liberate ourselves,
and most of all,
the children.
We must look starkly
into the face
of our own darkness.
Bring the book of our days,
into the morning light,
approach it as you would a tender wound.
Approach these wounds of our history,
gently,
as if coming upon sacred pools of wonder.
Look back in silence and see freshly:
See the Christian thrown to the lions,
for following the prophet of Nazareth.
See the woman of Salem—
who would not bow down before the image of Christ,
but only to the moon and to the stones—
who, because of the magic of herb and incantation,
suffered a similar fate as He.
See the day when the skin of a Huron man
would fetch half a dollar,
and see the night at Sand Creek,
when men in blue
rode in on Black Kettle’s camp,
the dying of babies
still in the womb,
never to see the light of day.
See the Black man,
hunched over,
picking cotton,
the tell-tale signs of the bull whip upon his back,
only to keep going,
only to keep going,
for his dreams of Africa.
See the Irish
wandering
across a soggy landscape,
burned from their homes,
tongues stained green
with the grass of hunger;
the sacred earth
withholding her harvest.
We have come so far,
and yet we have so far to go.
Close the book of our days for now,
and return it to rest.
Look into the future,
the book of days we have yet to write,
for the Golden Age is ahead,
not behind.
See the Indian, the Buddhist, the Sufi, the Hindu,
the Jew, the Muslim, the Pagan Witch,
the Protestant, the Druid, and the Catholic,
joining hands and hearts,. . .
paying homage to the sacred trees. . .
converging upon a site. . .
coming together in peace. . .
anointing one another with prayer.
See a rain of a thousand days,
washing away the blood and the hate
from different lands,
cleansing,
cleansing,
cleansing Gaza Strip and Northern Ireland,
Bosnia and Vietnam,
south central L.A. and Baghdad,
Buchenwald and Hiroshima,
cleansing Tiananmen Square,
and Wounded Knee.
I long for the days when we will see
all the earth as our Holy Land,
all peoples as the Chosen Ones.
We have come so far,
we have so far to go. |
