Friday, April 30, 2010

A Goose in China That Lays Golden Eggs

I had a teacher, in the early 1980s, who would tell me privately that there was a goose in China that lays golden eggs. Years pass, I forget all about it. More years pass, I buy a small farm. Then I buy a bigger farm and I buy a gaggle of geese and ducks.
I bond with them, sacrifice so they have good food & lodging. I sell that farm and bring them here to Vermont. I sacrifice so they have Vet checkups, comfy transportation, the works. By now I am into them 11 years.
In Vermont I turn 'em loose onto a fenced-in manure pit-created pond with a couple of sheds and a small barn. Now I'm into them going on 12 years when, one by one, they start disappearing. Soon I am down to four geese--Papa Goose, Mother Goose, and her 2 sisters. A game warden shows up, "You see that moving speck way out there? That is a coyote." Then weasel takes out the 2 sisters, and finally Papa Goose is mortally wounded and lingers for a week, staying protectively by Mama Goose's side before disappearing. Mama Goose roams here for a year, always listening & keeping a vigil for Papa Goose, sometimes calling for him.

Urban, well-dressed renters comment, "Oh, Marc you are so funny. It is very entertaining to watch you talking to the goose as if she understands you..." Then, we see the goose flap her wings and cackle. To some of them, very posh, I say "I am practicing a stand-up routine." To some I say, "Well, she misses her husband, and was reminiscing, as we understand one another..."

So, not too long ago, when I saw a large white pile of feathers that wasn't moving out in the north pasture, I rushed around to find Stephanie, "I haven't heard goose all day and there is a pile of feathers out in the north pasture--please go see."

Steph rolls up her sleeves and heads north, stops, bows her head, comes back to the farmhouse, grabs a bag for her sacred feathers, scissors, shovel & smudge. "Get outta the house, get out on the land, I will take care of your goose."

Maria's Apache wisdom & lessons pages came in earlier this week. I grab them since the chant in them spoke to me, and I amble up to the creek-side 'wheel' to give Mama Goose some Passing On rituals, ,to try to find a measure of closure, and to honor her and Grandmother Nene.

Thursday, April 29, 2010

Loss and Mortification

Mama Goose has been missing all day. No good, no good at all. Sunset, and I see a white patch out in the north pasture. "Stephanie, Stephanie -- Mama Goose has been missing all day and I see a big white patch -- please go take a look."

Steph goes, returns, "Go for a walk, Marc. Get on out to your medicine wheel." She grabs a shovel, etc. I am dazed, going numb. I don't want to let go and cry. Too much sadness. I go into the farmhouse to avoid true me. I check the computer -- Apache words from Maria. Oh good, Calling Energies chant. I write it down. I chant and then cry, and chant some more. I walk down to the creekside and go to my wheel. "Now you have done it, Marc -- you shoulda locked goose in the barn." I feel like I should be anywhere but taking time to nurture -- what with the truck & tractor problems, etc.

I begin my rituals with chanting, and feeling love for old friend Goose in my heart's core. A duck circles 3x overhead. I pray and journey into dreaming: Mama Goose joins me, then long-gone companion Papa Goose: "We are right here with you Marc -- alive in your heart. We are to show you a path to a realm in your heart -- we are your guides into the dreaming, just contemplate us and we will all go into dreaming together."

SUNDOWN: I find my way back to the farmhouse. Steph meets me in the entrance, "Marc, I buried Goose -- you were out doing Maria's work, right?" I nodded, and she went on, "I felt it, Marc--the whole farm felt it. It is so important you do her work every day, no matter how things seem..." True story.

I have a recurring dream: I am doing the lead in a play. It is opening night and I have not read the play, nor learned my lines. The director has put her all into the production. The theater is filled to capacity and I am mortified. This is the end. The sky has fallen.

I have hit a snag/wall/stagnation in my daily prayers, Stone homework, and it is manifesting in my lungs also. I fall asleep asking for resolution. I am in the dream again, but it is the last night. The backdrop turns into a marble stone wall. The stage curtain rises and, "Oh no -- I haven't learned my lines. I hear an inner guide instruct me, "Marc, turn around and see the stone wall. All your lines are on the wall in Braille. Do your role as if you are a blind high priest. It is all okay."

Wednesday, April 28, 2010

gladkiss !!

I faam south Nakia 'a,d who grandma goose and grandpa are with me -maybe forever,hadadidla :dance marc-remember who you are-put the headphones on and dance your chores away.eototo amd i am in the body of a bear-a dancind bear.i get back to the house.a truck is stuck in front of my house.i give him a hand .he says he is a mechanic and neighbor and he will return to fix my tractor when the snow melts..

mr and mrs gladkiss' daylillies

7th day rewrite.
greatest challenge that makes adventure? to remember to still all these memorized reruns going on in my breath,posture,inner dialogues,'just put it on pause',nd then,the self mesmerized reruns transform naturally into all sorts of unfamiliar dimensions of just being creative flow.
here,earlier this week we finally got spring and warmth to plant -which i pretty much got my pasture reseed in..and the farm tractor died,farm pickup died and my great trusting friend ,grandma goosre -died.. and today,here and now,we are in a malor snowstorm. I feed the,mule,the donkey,and the horse. I shovel pathways left and right-i am mad as a hatter...have to's and gotta's and or else's coming at me at way too frenetic pace.Oh no"."I left my manure spreader uncovered way out in the west pasture-i gotta trudge out there and cover it and i am soaked to the bone-not a second to waste-no time to change my socks ...Charge!"
I make it out there without falling in the creek."hey,waddya know-i am pretty near where i have one of my ceremony wheels ,maybe i could take a little time out and do my enter the silence""the wind answers me with a north to south gust that pushes rearranges me to facing southwards,my feet root into the mother,i feel a total opening and a great grateful joy sets in

Sunday, April 25, 2010

Mama Goose Lives On

"Aw, crap". Goose, Mama Goose, has been missing all day. It is late in the day when I spot a white patch far off in the NE pasture. "Aw, crap". Mrs. Shmee comes out. No words. She gets her tool kit: scissors, shovel. I cannot bear it. Shmee digs the grave--I go on over to Logstown, where the Allegheny and Monongahela join to create the Ohio. It is 'old Logstowwn, pre-1700 Logstown... I go ahead to the Medicine Wheel I built. I sit and do my Quero rituals. Goose is alive in my heart--in the consciousness in my heart. Great trusting old friend, Goose. Thank you Ten Bears.