Page 72 - ECOlogic Book

These feelings are the Creator, working through us: the reweaving of the
world. This is how the Creator works through us, bringing newness into the
world and knitting up the parts of ourselves and of the world that have fallen
asunder. Our sacred task, our remembrance, is to be weavers of the
familiar and the unknown. When we open ourselves to it, it is deeply
healing, both of the world and of ourselves, as is evidenced by Gisela’s
words: “. . . some days I feel as if I were falling in love, as if a deeply
healing energy had begun to pervade me and saturate me.” I believe that
same energy is saturating the world as well, every time we “let the playing
originate in our soul.” The healing we feel at such times is not ours alone,
but belongs to the whole web of life.

The traditional parting words of the Navajo, Nih-Zhoni-go: Go in Beauty are
an evocation not just for the individual, but for all of nature as well. Is it too
big a stretch to know the passion my friend describes as the same force that
drives a flower through its stem? – that the force that drives water through
rocks is the same force that keeps my heart pumping blood through my
veins, and my soul resonating to music? Well yes. On my less-than-better
days, it is too big a stretch. On such days, it’s all I can do to engage the
negative messages in my brain with constructive dialogue. I don’t expect
such knowing from myself full time, nor do assume my friend experiences
the connection she describes in the midst of her daily hubbub, though her
shamanic journey clearly shows it. Enough that she has experienced
healing!

But there are other days; moments, more and more frequent now, when I
wait for the last drone of an airplane to disappear from the range of my
hearing so that I can hear the tiniest movement of an insect in the grass;
when I allow myself to disappear into the dusk believing, as he deer do, that
by standing still I am becoming invisible; when I lie awake by my open
window, listening to a mocking bird singing its astonishing repertoire all
night long. At such times, I do not doubt it. I know with a knowing deeper
than understanding that Dylan Thomas was right. And my friend Gisela
knows it too, in her high-rise apartment, “letting the playing originate in her
soul.” Nih-Zhoni-go.

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