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Stories
from the Road
“LAST YEAR” —
February 2011
The Soul Would Have No Rainbow, If
The Eyes Had No Tears.
Native American Proverb
“Proverbs are time-honored truths which
condense the collected wisdom and experience of
a people and their culture. If you want to know
a people, the saying goes, know their proverbs.
Proverbs often serve as a means of instruction
in the rules of conduct and ethical behavior expected
by all members of a society; what makes them an
effective tool is that they are based on a keen
observation of human nature and behavior rather
than an idealized and unrealistic standard.
The proverbs collected in The Soul Would
Have No Rainbow If the Eyes Had No Tears are those
of people who love the land and regard it as sacred,
who see daily prayer as a duty, and have no need
to set apart one day in seven as a holy day, but
rather observe every day as God’s day. They
recognize and honor women in their roles as mothers,
teachers, artists and in governing the tribe.
The Native American tribes’ models
of eloquence are to be found not in books but
in the living orators of their local and national
assembles and tribal functions. They are the true
authors of this volume, which makes a small attempt
to honor their great oral tradition.”
Preface from The Soul Would Have
No Rainbow If the Eyes Had No Tears And Other
Native American Proverbs by Guy
A. Zona
Last year was the worst and one of the best of
years. The Yin and the Yang, the Light and Dark
side of The Force, if you’d like to put
it in that context. The Dark side was due to a
spurious lawsuit against Lucasfilm for pregnancy
discrimination in which I was one of the defendants.
The case ended, in my opinion, in an unjust guilty
verdict, and of course the company is appealing.
But the experience created symptoms within me
similar to those of post traumatic stress disorder
(PTSD) which were physically and emotionally very
disturbing at the time. I felt like I was in a
Hell Realm.
Yet, during the last week of the trial, I listened
to a virtual teleseminar hosted by Stephan Dinan
of The Shift Network (http://www.theshiftnetwork.com)
with a woman named Jyoti, the Spiritual Director
of the Center for Sacred Studies here in California,
and several of the members of the International
Council of Thirteen Indigenous Grandmothers. It
was during the time of the massive oil spill in
the Gulf of Mexico. There were over 18,000 people
from 68 countries all over the world listening
on the phone or internet to the prayers and words
of wisdom coming forth from Jyoti and the Grandmothers.
There was much talk that day about water, the
oceans, the rivers, lakes and streams, being the
life blood of Mother Earth. We are killing Her
by our reckless pollution and unprecedented destruction
of nature and indigenous ways of life. No clean
water, no life. If She dies, we die, and every
living thing and being on the planet would most
likely be unable to survive. It was very clear
that clean water is one of the most important
global issues we face as a species. One of the
Grandmothers prophesied Water Wars in the not
too distant future.
Throughout the teleseminar, there were prayers
for peace, chants, and songs offered to heal the
planet. An hour and a half later, at the end of
the program, Stephen offered the listeners an
opportunity to participate in discussion groups
of eight people, randomly connected. But, before
disconnecting, if you were interested, you could
press 2 on your phone to make a contribution to
the Center for Sacred Studies (http://www.sacredstudies.org/)
to help the International Council of Thirteen
Indigenous Grandmothers continue their global
work through prayer, education and healing for
our Mother Earth, all Her inhabitants, all the
children, and to protect the indigenous people's
diverse cultures, lands, medicines, language and
ceremonial ways of prayer. The Grandmothers believe
the teachings of their ancestors have great relevance
in the world today and will light our way through
an uncertain future. I pushed 2 and received an
automated email reply to make a contribution.
I donated $1,300, a hundred dollars in honor each
Grandmother. In that moment, a door opened in
my consciousness, and I walked through it into
the Light.
Within a week, I received a voice message on my
home phone from Jyoti, saying Stephen Dinan had
suggested she call. She didn’t know why,
but when we talked, we both felt a sense of SynchroDestiny
(as Deepak Chopra calls it) that there was a purpose
for us to connect that would be revealed in the
weeks and months to come. I began reading everything
I could find on the internet about the Grandmothers
(http://www.grandmotherscouncil.org/)
and the work of the Center for Sacred Studies,
and my heart was stirred with the excitement of
a new beginning.
Against the very sensible advice of friends,
economic advisors and scary headlines in the New
York Times that the real estate market plummeted
25.5 percent in July, I sold my sweet little casita
on Otero Street in Santa Fe this past summer for
a handsome profit. I had never thought of it as
an investment. It was a sanctuary, a place to
go to restore my energy and spirit, to clear my
mind and nurture my soul from the wear and tear
of daily existence. It was not an easy decision,
but I had begun to feel out of balance from the
stress of being an absentee homeowner, and it
was becoming more responsibility than I wanted.
At this age, I’m preparing to simplify my
life, and spend more time writing and cultivating
my spiritual practice.
After staying at La Fonda Hotel in Santa Fe on
several occasions last year due to having a tenant
in the house, I discovered the luxury of having
room service any time of day, and having someone
else make my bed if I didn’t. This was very
appealing. And the people who work at La Fonda
are genuinely warm and friendly, not to mention
the historical significance of the place with
its authentic old world ambience. So from now
on, I will be “living” at La Fonda
for Christmas/New Years and in August for Indian
Market and the dances, and possibly in May when
the lilacs are blooming to celebrate my birthday.
It will be my “Home Away from Home.”
On the day we closed escrow, after all the papers
had been signed, and we came to the last page
of the documents, I was so surprised when I realized
what I would receive from the sale of the house
that I burst into tears. I flew back to California
the next day amazed by my good fortune.
That weekend, Jyoti came to my house in San Anselmo
along with several other friends including Darlene
Hunter, the Executive Director of CSS, Carole
Hart the writer/director of the documentary film,
For The Next 7 Generations,
about the Thirteen Indigenous Grandmothers, as
well as two of the Grandmothers themselves, Grandmother
Agnes Baker Pilgrim, Takelma Silet, from
Grants Pass, Oregon, a world-renowned spiritual
leader and Keeper of the Sacred Salmon Ceremony
for her people, and Grandmother Flordemayo, Mayan,
who was born on the Nicaragua/Honduras border
in the highlands of Central America with the gift
of seeing visions and the ability to heal which
was recognized at an early age.
Flordemayo’s father was a local shaman
and her mother was a midwife and a healer. Growing
up, Flordemayo was trained by her mother in the
healing arts of the curandera, healers
or shaman, dedicated to curing physical and spiritual
illnesses, in the traditional way, passed down
orally from mother to daughter, generation after
generation. The lineage of the curanderismo
is over five hundred years old and began with
the arrival of the Europeans and slaves from Africa,
when it evolved into a mixture of African, Christian,
and indigenous teachings. Midwives, bone setters,
masseuses, and herbalists can all be curanderas.
Curanderisma is practiced in Mexico and throughout
Central and South America. Flordemayo studies
under Don Alejandro Oxlaj, a head of the Mayan
Council of Elders, and considers her Mayan heritage
a keystone of her work (http://flordemayo.us/).
Molly Blackwell, one of the friends who came
with Jyoti and the Grandmothers, brought over
fabulous food and we sat at tables in the garden
for an early dinner. The fragrance of a dozen
different roses bushes in full bloom, and the
sweet smell of a freshly cut thick, emerald blanket
of grass which lay under an ancient oak tree,
filled the air amidst the lushness of pink, blue
and white lace cap hydrangeas. In the pocket of
my dress was a gift card with a Cherokee Blessing
Prayer printed on the cover.
May the warm Winds of Heaven blow softly
on your house.
May the Great Spirit bless everyone who enters
there.
May your Moccasins make happy tracks in many
snows,
And may the Rainbow always touch your shoulder.
Inside the gift card was a check made payable
to the Center for Sacred Studies in the amount
of one-third of the proceeds I had received from
the sale of Casita Juanita in Santa Fe which would
enable me to become a Vision Keeper Sponsor for
the Center. When the appropriate moment arose,
I took the card from my pocket and handed it to
Jyoti. I said, “With this gift, I commit
myself to support the work of the Thirteen Indigenous
Grandmothers, and to be of service in any way
that I can for the rest of my life.” Grandmother
Agnes went into spontaneous prayer calling on
Creator, and I was encircled by all the women
and showered with blessings and love. It was an
incandescent moment of bliss.
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| Christmas Tree
in La Fonda Hotel Lobby |
The
Plaza at dusk |
During the ten years that I had Casita Juanita,
I would have a winter holiday party or a summer
garden party and some years both. It was a tradition
I wanted to continue at La Fonda, and sent out
invitations in November to my closest friends
in New Mexico to attend a party to celebrate the
Holy Days to be held in the Santa Fe Room at the
hotel on Wednesday, December 29, 2010. It was
going to be a more formal occasion, dressy/festive
attire and a sit down dinner at a long banquet
table.
Around sunset on the day of the party, it started
snowing for the first time in weeks. A storm was
forecast for later that night. Fortunately, Elizabeth
Daley and her husband, Jamie Hindman from Taos
had booked a room at La Fonda, but others braved
the elements from as far south as Madrid and Galisteo.
Even the locals were concerned about the icy roads,
but only a few friends weren’t able to make
it. My beloved sister, Kitty, and her partner,
David Samuels, arrived from California earlier
in the day and stayed with me at La Fonda through
New Years.
The catering staff at La Fonda was fantastic
to work with. The chef was willing to prepare
the sea bass with the summer recipe which I liked
better than how it was prepared on the winter
menu. And they special ordered my favorite sparkling
wines, Schramsberg Brut Rose and Blanc de Blanc,
for the reception in my suite before dinner and
with the dessert after dinner.
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| Shane Cronenweth
& JoAnn Balzer – Reception in Casita
Juanita de la Fonda before dinner |
That afternoon, Judy Broughton came over to the
hotel with crisp white place cards and a black
calligraphy pen that she used to write the name
of each guest on. We put the place cards on the
elegantly folded terra-cotta colored cloth napkin
for each person sitting at the table.
In the future, I’ll have the option to
stay in the same suite for Christmas and New Years
every year. I’ve named it Casita Juanita
de la Fonda because the bedroom and living room
look just like they did at the house. I brought
in all my serape blankets and pillows, the entire
antique glass bottle collection with crystal crosses
on top that had been on the fireplace mantle at
the house, as well as artwork, candles, other
decorative objects, and books that are kept in
storage to be brought to the hotel on every visit.
I used a dozen of the tallest glass bottles as
centerpieces on the banquet table for dinner,
along with votive candles in small tin containers.
There was a sparkling ribbon of light from one
end of the table to the other.
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Kitty w/server
Pearl, Judy Broughton
& Ralph Tingle |
Joanna
Lovetti |
The Santa Fe Room is La Fonda’s hidden
jewel with its 25 foot high cathedral ceiling,
lovely hammered tin chandeliers, striking terra-cotta
wall reliefs, a hand-carved wood-burning fireplace,
and original 1920s artwork. It has an intimate
and charming feel that was perfect for the occasion.
Marianne and Bob Kapoun were married at La Fonda
thirty-five years ago and had their wedding reception
in the Santa Fe Room, which holds fond memories
for them.
The menu was sent along with the invitation for
my guests to make their selections in advance:
Duck Confit Quesadilla
With asadero cheese and served with chipotle
sour cream,
pico de gallo, and guacamole
OR
Vegetarian Quesadilla
La Fonda Signature Salad
Grilled pear salad accompanied by petite greens,
pomegranate vinaigrette, shaved Manchego cheese,
and paprika-smoked Marcona almonds.
Sea Bass
Pan roasted filet topped with Serrano/Basil/Marcona
Almond Butter and served with roasted pinon
couscous.
OR
Classic Chicken La Fonda
Breast of chicken filled with bacon, red onion,
green chile, Jack and cheddar cheese, lightly
breaded, flash fried, and oven baked Accompanied
by mild green chile cream sauce and garlic mashed
potatoes.
OR
Vegetable Plate
Roasted chile poblano filled with roasted root
vegetables, leeks, tofu, and shiitake mushrooms
Accompanied by endive and red onion salad, sautéed
spinach and turnip greens,
saffron couscous, yam mash, and roasted red
pepper coulis.
Dessert -
Key Lime Pie
When everyone had assembled in the Santa Fe Room
and taken their seats, I made my welcoming remarks
from the head of the table, thanking everyone
for coming.
Some of my friends in New Mexico whom I’ve
known for more than thirty years were at the table
with several of their grown children, as well
as newer friends. Flordemayo was seated to my
right with her husband Marshall Hall.
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| Cyndi
& Tsali Hall |
To my left was McClellan “Mac” Hall,
father of Tsali Hall who is married to my dear
friend Cyndi. I met Cyndi the year I bought Casita
Juanita when she was working at Simply Santa Fe,
a unique clothing and home furnishings store recently
gone out of business. She helped me decorate the
house from top to bottom with dishware, artwork,
Zapotec Mexican rugs, lamps, as well as a Double
D Ranch alligator chair. Though there are many
years that separate us in age, we immediately
forged a bond and found there was much common
ground between us from our childhoods being raised
in the South. We are like kinfolk.
I had spent Christmas Eve at Cyndi and Tsali’s
house, enjoying the laughter and excitement of
their young children and the warmth of family.
And after several years since first meeting Mac,
I finally had an opportunity to spend some time
with him talking about his work. Mac is a Cherokee
man with roots in Oklahoma and North Carolina.
He’s a former teacher and principal of two
tribal schools, and the founder of the National
Indian Youth Leadership Project (http://www.NIYLP.org)
which he has led for over 30 years. He is also
the co-author with Stella Raudenbush of the book
Wisdom Teachings – Lessons
Learned from Gatherings of Elders.
With feminine wisdom to my right and masculine
wisdom to my left, I felt emboldened and inspired
to speak my truth, and went on to say, “Tonight
is going to be a night of storytelling. I will
be the narrator and between each course of our
meal, I’ll tell you a chapter from my life
in 2010, the good, the bad and the beautiful.
We will be celebrating a new beginning that starts
tonight at this table, in this magical setting.
I never had the chance to talk to each of you
at the Otero Street parties, so I’m delighted
to have you as a captive audience this evening.
Everyone will get to hear the whole story. And
by all means, enjoy the wine and delicious feast
before you.”
As the Duck Confit Quesadilla was being served,
I talked about the lawsuit and ugly consequences
that arose during the trial, and yet, from the
mud, a lotus blossom emerged when Jyoti and the
Grandmothers came into my life. I had initially
learned about the International Council of Thirteen
Indigenous Grandmothers several years ago when
Shana Chrystie gave me a copy of the book Grandmothers
Counsel the World – Women Elders Offer Their
Vision for Our Planet by Carol Schaefer
with a foreword by Winona LaDuke. But it wasn’t
until Christmas Eve 2009, when Kitty, Shana and
I were in Taos that I learned about the documentary
film For the Next 7 Generations –
13 Indigenous Grandmothers Weaving A World That
Works, directed by Carole Hart and
her late husband, Bruce Hart which Shana gave
me that night as a Christmas gift.
I had rented a suite at the Taos Inn. None of
us had ever been to the Pueblo for Christmas Eve
Mass and the bonfire procession around the plaza
following the Mass. It was something I had wanted
to do for years as a “life experience.”
And it was a powerful one. When we got back to
the Inn, we decided to eat our dinner in the suite
around the coffee table in front of a kiva fireplace.
The Pinion wood started to smoke and we quickly
opened the doors and windows to clear out the
rooms, however, there was something about the
smell of the smoke that seemed to “smudge”
us and brought some of the atmosphere and images
from the Pueblo into our rooms.
After dinner, Kitty suggested we watch the film
on her laptop which she set up on the coffee table.
The film resonated so deeply within me that I
knew intuitively I would be connected with the
Grandmothers in some way, some time in the future,
but returning to California in January 2010, preparation
for the lawsuit began in earnest. Six months later,
however, at Shana’s suggestion, I listened
to The Shift Network teleseminar with Jyoti and
the Grandmothers, and the rest is history.
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| Thirteen
Indigenous Grandmothers - New York 2004 |
While the La Fonda Signature Salad was being
placed before us, I continued to tell the story
about my burgeoning relationship with Jyoti and
the Thirteen Indigenous Grandmothers.
In October of last year, I went to Omega Institute
in Rhinebeck, New York to attend a workshop/retreat
with the Grandmothers. Jyoti stayed in California
to keep vigil at the bedside of her baby granddaughter,
Dyllan, who was waiting for a new heart in the
hospital at Stanford Medical Center. Throughout
the week at Omega, the power of prayers for Dyllan
was palpable, as well as for the child whose heart
she would receive. It came to her shortly after
the workshop ended, on the day the Grandmothers
left the United States to fly to Japan. As I write
this story, Dyllan is at Ronald McDonald House
preparing for the transition, shortly before her
first birthday, to return home to her parents
and sister. Miracles do happen, all around us.
The retreat at Omega began each day with a fire
prayer ceremony. There were three fire prayer
ceremonies, morning, noon and night, with a different
Grandmother presiding over each ceremony with
prayers and rituals from her unique wisdom tradition.
John, the fire keeper, kept the fire going twenty-four
hours a day throughout the retreat, even on the
day it rained. Songs and chants and drumming were
offered by several women most notably, Imani,
who usually sang and drummed at each ceremony.
There were “teaching sessions” between
the fire prayers each morning and afternoon on
various topics such as “Feminine Wisdom”
and “Plant Medicine” as well as panel
discussions on “Healing Mother Earth.”
Several Grandmothers would talk from their tradition
at each session which was usually moderated by
Ann Rosencranz, the Program Director for CSS.
Ann is blessed with a beautiful, powerful voice
and sang many Native American chants throughout
the retreat. She is in tune with the rhythm of
Mother Earth, and the vibration of her voice radiated
out in concentric ripples touching the heart of
everyone in the circle.
Everything an Indian does is in a circle,
and that is because the Power of the World always
works in circles, and everything tries to be
round… The sky is round, and I have heard
that the earth is round like a ball, and so
are all the stars. The wind, in its greatest
power, whirls. Birds make their nests in circles,
for theirs is the same religion as ours. The
sun comes forth and goes down again in a circle.
The moon does the same and both are round. Even
the seasons form a great circle in their changing,
and always come back again to where they were.
The life of a man is a circle from childhood
to childhood, and so it is in everything where
power moves…
Black Elk, Oglala Lakota (Sioux) - (1863-1950)
As the main course of Sea Bass, Classic Chicken
La Fonda, or the Vegetable Plate was served, I
told a story about Grandmother Beatrice Long Visitor
Holy Dance. Grandmothers Beatrice and her sister
Rita Long Visitor Holy Dance are Oglala Lakota.
They are descendants of Long Visitor, and are
members of the Crazy Horse Band, named after Crazy
Horse, one of the most revered Oglala Lakota Indian
Warriors. They live on the Pine Ridge Reservation
in southwestern South Dakota, which is considered
to be the most overwhelming impoverished place
in America.
During one of the morning sessions as Ann Rosencranz
introduced the various Grandmothers seated on
the stage, we all realized that Grandmother Beatrice
was not there. The Grandmothers decided to carry
on and about ten minutes later, Grandmother Beatrice
entered the auditorium being supported as she
walked by her son, Aloysius. She was hunched
over and softly weeping as she took her place
on the panel. Ann and the other Grandmothers went
to comfort her and Grandmother Beatrice decided
to speak. With a trembling voice, she told us
she had just learned that her twenty-two year
old grandson, Shiloh, had died in the middle of
the night before. He suffered from asthma and
was awakened from his sleep with an asthma attack.
Shiloh called out for his father to bring his
inhaler, but by the time his father got to him,
Grandmother Beatrice’s grandson was gone.
She said, “I don’t want to be here,
I want to go home.” Aloysius helped her
off the stage and they left the room. We were
all broken hearted by the news.
The next morning at the fire prayer ceremony,
I was surprised to see that Grandmother Beatrice
was still there. She hadn’t left because
it was her morning to lead the prayers. As everyone
gathered in the circle around the fire pit before
the ceremony began, Aloysius sang a chant in
his native language accompanied by Imani on her
drum. There were frequent references in the song
to Shiloh, and also to the “soldier boys
and soldier girls” which would soon become
clear.
Grandmother Beatrice was seated on a large brown
bear skin in front of the fire pit with her peace
pipe and an incense bowl filled with juniper in
front of her. John, the fire keeper, lit the incense
with a hot coal he picked out of the fire with
his bare hands, and smudged Grandmother Beatrice
with the incense smoke. One of the attendants
smudged all the other Grandmothers and their guests
in which I was included, then walking in a clockwise
direction around the fire, smudged all the others
attending the ceremony.
Grandmother Beatrice told us that before she
left to come to Omega, she had asked Aloysius
if she should bring her peace pipe. She was worried
that it might get confiscated at Customs when
they arrived in Japan, where they were going after
Omega for the home gathering of Grandmother Clara
Shinobu Iura, Santo Daime, (Amazon Rain Forest
of Brazil) who is the daughter of Japanese immigrants.
Grandmother Beatrice said she realized now why
she had brought her peace pipe with her so she
and the other Grandmothers could smoke for Shiloh
and pray for world peace. At that time, Aloysius
invited a young man named Robert Davis to come
and sit beside Grandmother Beatrice on the bear
skin. Robert knelt down on his knees beside Grandmother
Beatrice to prepare the peace pipe with tobacco.
Grandmother Flordemayo brought Robert’s
mother to sit behind him.
When Robert handed the peace pipe to Grandmother
Beatrice, John held a slender stick of wood with
a small flame on the tip to the bowl of the pipe
to light it. Grandmother Beatrice drew the smoke
through the pipe and exhaled it several times,
smudging herself with the smoke, then handed the
pipe to Robert Davis who repeated the ritual.
Aloysius smoked, and then the peace pipe was
passed to each of the Grandmothers to smoke. It
was a solemn experience, but one filled with amazing
grace and reverence.
All the things of the universe are joined
with you who smoke the pipe – All send
their voices to Wakan-Tanka, the Great Spirit.
When you pray with this pipe, you pray for and
with everything. The first peace, which is the
most important, is that which comes within the
souls of people when they realize their relationship,
their oneness, with the universe and all its
powers, and when they realize that at the center
of the universe dwells Wakan-Tanka, and that
this center is really everywhere, it is within
each of us…
Black Elk, Oglala Lakota (Sioux), as told to
Joseph Epes Brown in The Sacred
Pipe: Black Elk’s Account of the Seven
Rites of the Oglala Sioux.
It turns out that Robert Davis is a soldier in
Afghanistan who had recently completed his second
tour of duty. He had been scheduled to come home
on leave in a few months to marry his fiancé,
but will return to Afghanistan for a third tour
after their wedding. Robert had heard about the
Council of the Thirteen Indigenous Grandmothers
convening in New York and asked for and was granted
permission to come home early to meet them at
Omega.
After the fire prayer ceremony had concluded,
I remained in my seat in the tent in the row behind
the Grandmothers, transfixed by the experience
that had just occurred. Prayers for Shiloh, prayers
for the dead from war and sickness and for those
whose lives are in harms way every minute of every
day around the world. Suddenly, someone, I don’t
remember who, broke the trance and said, “Jane,
you should talk to Robert Davis,” and he
sat down beside me.
We immediately began a conversation telling each
other some of our life stories. Robert said that
he has found himself in an unusual situation in
the military. Robert’s commanding officer
had asked him to talk with some of the young soldiers
before they talked to a chaplain or medic, both
men and women who were having psychological problems
due to the trauma they were experiencing in the
daily environment of war. Robert said, “They
sometimes feel more comfortable and can talk more
easily to someone their own age, a soldier like
them, who has gone through similar experiences
in Afghanistan.”
Robert has had no formal training as a therapist
or counselor, but is a good listener. And he said,
“I tell them they are not this war, this
is not who they are and they should never lose
sight of that, or where they come from and who
their family is. Military service is a job they
are doing at this time, but war is not their life.”
Robert went on to say that he has started to
study different religions and spiritual traditions
in hopes that it will help him help others. That
is what compelled him to find his way to meet
the Thirteen Indigenous Grandmothers. He wants
to better understand how despite our apparent
differences, it seems that at the heart of every
religion is love and compassion. I said, “Robert,
you’re beginning to sound like a Buddhist.”
He smiled and said he has been very interested
in reading about the Dalai Lama who says that
his religion is kindness.
“I have something I want to give you, Robert,”
and pulled a Filofax out of my large handmade
needlepoint purse, lined with old Afghanistan
coins around the opening. I once met an Afgan
man in a gas station in Marin County when I was
paying my bill who said that one of the old coins
was worth about $100 now.
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| President Obama & the Dalai Lama |
The
Dalai Lama & Hopi Elders |
Anyway, I handed Robert a photo I took out of
one of the compartments in the Filofax, and said,
“I have carried this photo of President
Obama and the Dalai Lama in my wallet for some
years since the two men met at the time Congress
awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor to His
Holiness. Now President Obama is your Commander
in Chief, and he and the Dalai Lama are both men
of peace. Remember this, Robert, because they
have the wisdom and compassion to help guide you.”
Also in the Filofax were other small photos and
cards that I had laminated, some about the size
of a business card, of Our Lady of Guadalupe,
my astrological chart, the Buddha, and a photograph
of the Dalai Lama shaking hands with one of the
Hopi Elders gathered around him when he came to
the United States for the first time in 1979.
I hesitated for a moment, realizing that the
photo of His Holiness and the Hopi held a greater
significance for me and I felt that old pang of
attachment, just briefly, before saying to Robert,
“This photo is very special to me, but I
want you to have it because of the ceremony we
have just participated in together. These are
your people now, Robert, and we are all from the
same soul tribe.”
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| Facing
camera from left: Bob Kapoun, Ralph Tingle
& Marcia Keegan. From right: Kitty,
Jamie Hindman, & Elizabeth Daley |
Looking down the long banquet table in the amber
glow of the Santa Fe Room at La Fonda Hotel, I
saw tears in the eyes of several friends. Glancing
at Harmon Houghton and Marcia Keegan, longtime
friends, and the publishers of my books, Precious
Jewels of Tibet and Love
& Loss, I told the gathering,
“The photographer who took the photo of
the Dalai Lama and the Hopi Elders was Marcia
Keegan.” Marcia didn’t hesitate and
said, “Don’t worry, Jane, I’ll
get you another copy.”
As we approached the last course on the menu,
the Key Lime Pie, I began to tell the final chapter
of the story.
“Many of you know that in five months,
on May 18, 2011, I will celebrate my seventieth
birthday. I will be in Anchorage, Alaska, at the
International Council of the Thirteen Indigenous
Grandmothers home gathering for Grandmother Rita
Pitka Blumenstein, Yupik, from the Arctic Circle.”
Grandmother Rita’s family was from the
village of Tununak, located on the northeast coast
of Nelson Island, a four-square-mile island in
southwestern Alaska. She was born on a fishing
boat on the shore of the barren and bitter cold
of the Alaska tundra. Grandmother Rita’s
Yupik name means “Tail End Clearing of the
Pathway to the Light.”
When Grandmother Rita was nine years old, her
great-grandmother told her that some day when
she was a grandmother, she would sit on a council
with a group of thirteen grandmothers. Her great-grandmother
gave her thirteen special stones and eagle plumes,
which she was to keep safe until the time came
to give them to each of the grandmothers, keeping
one for herself. When the Thirteen Indigenous
Grandmothers initially came together in 2004,
with tears in her eyes, Grandmother Rita gave
the special stones and eagle plumes, wrapped in
red cloth bundles, to the grandmothers and said,
“Thirteen stones in honor of the thirteen
Grandmothers, the thirteen planets in our universe,
and the thirteen full moons of the year.”
Following the Grandmother’s Council in
Anchorage, I’m planning to go on a cruise
through the Alaskan Glaciers, something I have
always wanted to do, which serendipitously begins
the day after the council ends. I’ve longed
to be surrounded by the crystal walls of ice and
to experience the silence of floating across the
water through the glacial canyons.
As I have reflected on the significance of the
milestone that is approaching, I’m putting
the wheels in motion to retire from Lucasfilm
next year in 2012 on the occasion of my thirty-fifth
anniversary of working with George Lucas. I’ve
said many times that it has been My Brilliant
Career which is the title of a film,
based on a true story, directed by Gilliam Armstrong
in 1979, starring Sam Neill and Judy Davis as
a young woman who grew up impoverished in the
Australian Outback but becomes a successful writer.
Working with George all these years has been
a long and amazing journey through the ebb and
flow of life, love, and relationships with all
its joys and heartaches, an emphasis on the joy.
It may seem cliché to say that I have learned
so much from the experience, but it’s true,
and it has prepared me for the adventures that
are to come.
I have found a spiritual home with the Center
for Sacred Studies and will continue to support
the work of the International Council of Thirteen
Indigenous Grandmothers, as well as my Tibetan
family and other organizations that support the
Tibetan people inside Tibet and in exile. I plan
to spend more time writing, in meditation and
prayer for world peace, and to stay as present
as I can in the moment to live life to the fullest
each day.
In Mac Hall’s book Wisdom Teachings
– Lessons Learned from Gatherings of Elders,
there is a sidebar with the question “What
is an Elder?” which says,
Often elders are simply defined as older
people, but not every senior citizen is truly
an elder. Elders are the empowered servants
of the people. Elders are those people who throughout
a lifetime, have worked to internalize and give
expression to the highest value of their communities…
 |
| Kitty,
David & Cheryl Bass |
This is what I aspire to be. I am embracing conscious
aging with the intention of being of service to
others in every way that I can for as long as
I live.
Judy Broughton’s partner, Ralph Tingle,
stood up with a glass of Schramsberg Blanc de
Blanc in hand and made a beautiful toast. I received
a standing ovation and bowed in gratitude.
It had been a magical evening and at the conclusion,
Kitty and David and some of the younger folks
went around to La Fiesta Lounge off the hotel
lobby to listen to Bill Hearn sing his wonderful
southwestern songs, one of my favorites being
“New Mexico Rain.”
By midnight the Plaza was covered with powdery
snow sparkling with the reflection of the multicolored
lights strung in all the trees which I could see
from the balcony at Casita Juanita de la Fonda.
It was a White Christmas after all.
And the New Year began with the
realization of infinite possibilities.
Welcome, O life!
I go to encounter for the millionth time
The reality of experience…
James Joyce
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man
Photo Credits/Permissions:
Photo of Thirteen Indigenous Grandmothers New
York 2004 used with permission of the Grandmothers
Photo of the Dalai Lama and the Hopi Elders used
with permission of the photographer: Marcia Keegan
Photos taken at Holiday Party used with permission
of the photographer: Cyndi Hall
Photo of President Obama and the Dalai Lama: Photographer
Unknown/Public Domain
|
