Equinox : September : Power of the Old Dog

23 September 2015 : 10:20 am CET

gathering near my finger tips
dream songs
carry me in my sleep
my friends
the mysteries are all around us
close by

I am sitting with memories, the shadows of my wisdom, distant ring of my experience, my elusive powers. 

Wishing I could do something to help the Waiting World. Retirement is upon me. Nothing. I don’t like it. Tears run down my cheeks as I read and watch the Troubles. Trouble. Everywhere.

I have been reading. A lot. More than ever. Like when I was a young boy. I stayed holed up in my room and read books. And comics. But lots of books. Thoreau. Julius Ceaser. Mark Twain. Marvel. Alexander Dumas. The Count of Monte Cristo is probably my favorite book. Also Talbut Munday. Robert E Howard. Lord Dunsanay. Books. Printed on paper. Today the books are on my iPad. Electronic books. They have lots of typos and bad formatting. Even the best sellers. Ebooks are kind of tacky and poorly edited. This seems so strange to me. Right from the start, and now eve years later, ebooks are kind of retrograde, poor quality, yet just as expensive.

Reading is frustrating. It helps with the restless, the frustration. The longing for action that sucks the vitality out of retired old dogs like me.

Last night  dreamed of a great ceremony, with thousands of Indians. I was standing on the earth singing with all my power. It was great. I awakened. Alone in my bed. I could still feel the rush of energy that came from the song. The feeling of my feet on the earth. Just a dream. O. Yeah.

I am a kind of priest. A keeper of tribal sacred ceremonies. I have made thosands of ceremonies. Prayers. Rituals. They have changed lives. Sometimes. I used to love doing that. A correct tribal ceremony is filled with all sorts of energies and revelations. It was easy to love work like that.

Some time ago I lost that Feeling. The modern people over here in Italy don’t seem to get it. The work started seeming like a waste of time. Modern people have no faith. There is no root to tap into. There is no history to continue. There is no magic in their blood. No mystery in their expectations. Modern people seem bored. Boredom is a formidable obstacle. I don’t want to compete with their boredom. I retired rather than compete. After 30 years of praying on the belly of the sacred earth, I looked up and saw strangers. Ghosts. Boredom.

So I had a heart attack. It lasted 12 hours. Then I retired. Started collecting my social security check. $327 every month. Usually on the 2nd day of the month. Direct deposit into my Italian bank account. They charge me $25 to do that.

So I started reading. History. Biographies. Fiction. Fantasies. Mysteries. And watching The News. The Donald Trump News Network. And missing Jon Stewart. What a terrible moment to loose Jon Stewart, just when we need him the most. Loosing Jon Stewart has contributed to my Bad Feeling.

I fit in well with the online universe. Not so much with the real life universe. I never really belonged anywhere in particular. My parents were from diverse origins. I was/am part one thing, part something else. Not belonging anywhere really. A child of the cracks between the worlds. Not really accepted by either side. On my own. I chose my own side. The Old Indians. I grooved on the dignity and personal power they cultivate as they sit at the edge of the world in home made houses not shown on maps or listed in the phone book. My people.

The Pop is here. I watched him on Rachel Maddow’s show. It brought tears to my eyes. Watching him hug and kiss people. Watching him ask young people to pray for him. “I really need it”, he said. It breaks my heart that earlier in the day he made a Saint of a Spanish Priest who murdered 80,000 American Indians. I don’t understand why American Indians are at the bottom of every list in the world. The American Indians do not matter to the world, to anyone. The American press does not even cover this story or report on the opposition and heartbreak of the American Indians of the United States who all oppose this absurd act. This great Pope has love for everyone, except the American Indians. Yet I had tears of humility for the loving way he treats people when he is on the street…and his courage for his upcoming address to the United States government, in a rare joint session of the Congress and Senate on Thursday. Later, after he made his historic speech, we learned that he wants us to listen to the Radical Voice inside our souls…to travel to the edges and the margins and embrace what is different and think more clearly about our choices. He made John Boehner cry. Me to. He held up two notorious radicals as Best Examples of Good Catholics. Radicals like me, an Old Dog panting in the Crevices of Time wondering what to do next. I was disappointed at the civility of his speech…in that he treated the combined House and Senate as if they are in fact a reasonable body when clearly they are not….here in the “Land of Dreams”. I am a kind of Priest, like the Pope. I understand how a good one thinks. Always the message is simple. Practical. Have the courage to do the right thing while respecting the dignity of all life and all people. The Old Indians have always said exactly this. I say exactly this to the face in the mirror that greets me every morning.

Yesterday (Wednesday) my wife and I found a little creek and made a little fire and had a little ceremony to welcome in the Equinox, say goodbye to Summer. It was sweet and nice. Simple. There were wild tomatoes growing all over the place. Beautiful tress filled with little birds singing. A light rain fell as we finished the ceremony. Just before the ceremony I composed and emailed my Equinox Poem. I have composed a poem for every equinox and solstice at least since 1975.

Earlier this year I composed and published a collection of these poems into a little book, “Under The Drum”. You can find out more about that at this link. 

The Moon’s Sacred Light. This weekend will be a great, bright, dramatic full moon. Aside from its drama, human beings no longer pay much attention to the Moon. Ancient peoples used the Moon as their calendar much more than they did the Sun. This great Moon will be the first of the new season. A gathering Moon. It is likely we will be up in Milano and making a nice ceremony with friends to gather up some of this energy. We have a ceremonial fire in Milan that has been going 12 years now. It will be a perfect place and moment to reflect on what has gone before and what might happen next.

Update: RE: The Pope

Yes. Papa Francis is doing a fine bit of work. His energy, endurance, strength and consistency is truly impressive. He has done a solid days work every day. Under the sacred rules of order and method he has created a series of true ceremonies, true elements of the mystery life have been invoked. Yet through it all the question of his contempt and disregard of every issue related to the treatment and policy of the church to American Indians is nearly of a criminal nature. The whole affair is not in balance. This is after all the real problem with the Wa of the Dog.

Equinox Twenty Fifteen

Bologna Italy

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