AS SMART AS ROCKS

When I was a child in a small town on the shore of Lake Michigan I would watch the Lebanese families, the Italian families, the African/American families, the German families and the few others who still seemed to have a sense of their lineage and their cultural identity. Always they fascinated me and always I felt an odd unidentifiable ache in my heart. As I grew, the ache became a part of my very soul. It claimed such a presence in my being that it became like an organ; like a touchy gallbladder or a trick knee that lay dormant until confronted by a food or circumstance that caused a “flair up” and these ”flair ups” were caused by anyone or anything that implied that sense of lineage or cultural identity.

There was a small community of Lebanese in our town and there were several old ladies who always dressed completely in black and many of them did not speak English. Still, I would walk as close behind them as I could and listen. I was sure they had some kind of secret knowledge that I was not privy to. I wanted, so deeply, to belong.

My family heritage was mixed and mysterious. My Mother was adopted and knew only her mother’s name, her father a complete mystery. My paternal Grandparents were dead long before I was born. I knew I was of their family and that they loved me but that did not feed my desire for heritage. We were Scottish, Irish, French, Welsh, Native American..... So much had been added into the mix that we were neither soup, stew nor goulash. We were everything and nothing.

I was an American child who’s culture had been stripped away and replaced by television, Barbi dolls, processed food, the scientific method and a strange hybrid religion that was part Judaism, part European tribal culture, part the teachings of a brilliant man called Jesus and part political machine mixed with bits and pieces of other Sacred Pathways. This elaborate conglomeration of rituals and beliefs had by now been dubbed Christianity. And much of the world believed then and believes now that it had sprung, fully formed, from the lips of a few men two thousand years ago – a “new” religion that could save us all. I know true Christian Seekers now but as a child all I saw was a big building and the words meant nothing to me.

When I was very small I much preferred my own company and found a vacant lot at the end of our sheltered street that became my world for many years. I was close to the Earth there. I built shelters in summer and winter and made tools from whatever I found. I felt at home on the Earth; it was her people that confused me and left me feeling somehow homeless though I slept in a perfectly good bed every night, even if it was usually sandy.

For me, it has always been the Earth that consistantly and constantly carries truth, lineage, history and a true sense of belonging. If we look at our evolution through her eyes we gain a very different sense of history.

Be brave. Be brave enough to Enter the Mother Lodge and sit in her lap or enter the stillness of deep Meditation and Become A Rock. Just for a few moments you are not an Amerindian or a Celt, or a Jew or a Muslim or a Christian or a Buddhist . . . just a rock.

If you can become a rock and watch all of history simply go by you will begin the process of becoming a true Human Being and leaving behind the pain of whatever particular pack of lies you were surrounded by as you grew.

Understand ! I do not call your teachers, your parents, your preachers or your culture liars. Most of them told you the truth as best they knew it. Most of them told you exactly what they believed you needed to know in order to be happy, whole and functional. But they were not as smart as rocks. How could they be? They have been here on the Earth for such a short time . . . and seen so little.