Seed

The trajectory marks where I am going.

But, my eyes don’t see behind

To know where I have been.

I feel the presence of the Ancestors

Calling me to wholeness,

Calling me to a remembering,

Inviting me to let go of time

And embrace this moment as the essence

Of all moments:

All that I am

All that I was

All that I will be

Sits within me like a seed

Waiting for the water of my acceptance

To sprout and grow

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8 thoughts on “Seed

  1. So beautiful!!! Well said! Thank you Didi!

    In healing circles, we are often trained to think of the past and our ancestors as the source of all our troubles. We are taught to clear these distorted patterns by people who teach pattern clearing. It is refreshing to hear you connect to the strength and potential that is in our ancestry, too. (Maybe you are even referring to our own inner ancestry of other lifetimes.)

    And if it is not simply our own acceptance that starts the whole ball rolling, I don’t know what else will! Brilliant insight. I will return to this one.

      • Those lines are a nod to the amazingly powerful imagery of the death of Roland the Cherokee. In the book, “Selu: Seeking the Corn Mother’s Wisdom,” Marilou Awiatka includes the telling of the story of the Tellico Dam and the flooding of the Cherokee (Eastern Band) burial grounds. Part of that story is the telling of “The Last Day of Roland the Cherokee.” In protest and as a sacrifice, he goes into the area just as it is starting to flood and ties himself to a boulder:

        In silence Roland listened to the sigh of rising waters and watched the light in the eastern sky deepen from rose to powerful crimson. Fixing his eyes on the crest of the mountain, he aimed his spirit to the mark.

        You profane the sacred bones.
        You pour concrete on the living.
        I, Roland the Cherokee,
        call this ground sacred.
        I set myself an arrow to the bow.

        On a distant hill, as he’d promised Roland he would do, an old kinsman sat in the notch of a tall oak stump and kept the watch until the young man’s sprit arced into the sky. Then the old man climbed down from the stump and took the message to the people: “Begin again.”

        For me, the story of Roland is much more than about his martyrdom. It is about healing, giving one’s all to Spirit, and recognizing that sometimes the world is bigger than just our little piece of it. Those three lines indicate a a hope that I have the willingness to walk the path dictated by spirit, letting go of the past and trusting that it will take me where I need most to go, where I will do the most good. I have no desire to be a martyr, but I recognize that there are times when sacrifice is needed. It is a way of saying, “I will to will Thy Will.”

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