The Path (on Sierra Grande)

There are times in our lives that we find the path ahead is not clearly visible. We may try to make plans or follow the cultural customs but most of us discover a time in life when we realize we are walking with a false security.   Something happens in our life to shake us up and awaken us.  We may feel that things are not what we thought they were and perhaps we have lost our way.   Although it may prove to be a time of great growth – very often we are uncomfortable and perplexed.

Some people deal with this uncertainty by planning out every detail – some respond in fear and resistance – some plow forward with wild abandon – some take slow small steps in hopes of catching a glimpse of a clue or sign to lead them.  In all cases, we often discover that there are no road maps, no directions, and no sure footing in this life that can make us safe, reduce our risk, or minimize our challenges.   We often must summon a greater strength from within and walk forward simply with faith, a desire to do good, a trust in something greater than ourselves, and the willingness to listen to the small quiet voice within our own heart and soul.

Recently I was speaking to Anna Wolfe, the daughter of Tish Hewitt who made The Mandala Center what it is today.  She was talking about riding horses and some of the races she participates in.  She spoke about what it was like to be on a horse at night when there were no guiding lights and she knew they were on a treacherous path- both rider and horse tired and weary.   She spoke about “feeling” the horse and trusting the horse to lead her and honoring the relationship she had with the horse.  She spoke about giving up control (though confident in her own skills) and having courage and a willingness to go on without letting fear take over.

I was imagining that perhaps this is how it is in life and how it is with human relationships, with God; with the Great Mystery.   So often our footing seems uncertain, our vision blocked, our sense of self questioned.  We must walk in the darkness without fear and “feel” our way with trust and faith that something else or someone else will lovingly accompany us and guide us along the way.

Anna wrote a poem at a time when she felt she needed to follow her inner voice and divine guidance.  It was the time when she moved across the country with her family to New Mexico to finish The Mandala Center.   She speaks in her own language of faith and offers up her own experience of trusting a greater flow in life even when she could not completely see the path ahead.

Below is the article published in Women’s  Perspective on Money and Spirituality – Fall 2003 where she shares her poem.

When Anna Wolfe’s mother died, she left unfinished a project that was dear to her heart – The Mandala Center in New Mexico.   Anna finished building the Mandala Center and in essence became her mother’s partner in the creation of this sacred space in the high desert. Her moment of knowing that this is what she was called to do is reflected in her poem,  My Answer…

MY ANSWER

Lord, I hear you calling,
Calling me far, far, away.
It is a whisper
That blows through my soul,
And stirs me
To say yes.

Oh, the adventure
You are calling me to.
To the place in the wilderness
Where
You will speak tenderly
To my heart,
And give me my vineyards.

You ask so little of me
Other than
To keep saying yes,
To keep listening to your voice
And placing the next foot
Forward
Like on the labyrinth.

I realize that all I have
Comes from you,
And so is really yours
For us to use together
To do your work.
And so I hold what I have
Loosely
And I listen.

You have also opened me
To your gift of love,
Now showing me
The glorious face of your Son
In each person I meet,
And so I know
We are all one.

Now, after years of
Loving preparation
You have led me
To the very brink
And it is time
For action.

It is time to take
The leap of faith,
As Abraham did
So many years ago.
To arch and leap
As from an aeroplane,
With joyful abandon.

And I must trust.
Trust that your loving arms
Will catch me,
As surely as
The parachute,
And I will be
In the place to which
You are calling me.

So, Lord,
I am surprised and honored
To realize
You have a plan for me.
And I step forward,
Over the edge,
With confidence
And trepidation
To the place we call Mandala.

The confidence
Is God-given,
The trepidation, human.
Yet I am grateful
That I may hear your call
And respond,
For it is the ultimate way
That I may return your love.
By saying yes.

Anna Wolfe, June 1997

(Lori Coon   Executive Director)

Art as Meditation

Our Winter Silence Retreat offered a time for individuals to come and relax and renew at special winter prices.   We offered home cooked meals and a few special activities such as massage by Pam, yoga by Sasha,  and art as meditation by Lori.   Here is a photo of our group engaged in the creative process.  We did a brief meditation focusing on our breath and then participants “painted their breath” using watercolors.  Here are a couple of the finished products.  The rest of the time participants shared meals, hiked, read, slept, and visited together.  The photo shows Makyla, Faye, and Susan.

Pam's breath.

Ralph's breath

Eagle by Gary Rothstein

Life is full of changes.  Death.  New beginnings.  Transitions and Transformations.   I recently watched the movie “The Curious Case of Benjamin Button.”  I was pleasantly surprised at its depth and attention to the human condition.  The film offered two messages – “You never know what is coming for you.”  and “Nothing ever lasts.”  These sentiments can sound a bit depressing, but in reality they speak to our need for mindful attention and appreciation for the moments we do have in life and for the people with whom we share our lives. 

This idea of the cyclical and ever changing nature of life has captured me for years.  The only thing we can really be sure of is “change.”  Helen Keller reminded us, “Security is an illusion.”   For me, embracing this unpredictable aspect of life, rather than denying it, has proven beneficial and comforting.  During any process of death, there is equally a process of rebirth happening.  It is not necessarily something linear as much as simultaneous.  An artist will “destroy” a white canvas while giving birth to a painting.   A lumberjack will kill a tree to build a house.  A negative belief is released in order to heal.  We all have to weigh the benefits and costs of each action but there is no escaping this reality of constant birth, death and rebirth. 

Coming here to New Mexico was a death of sorts in my own life – letting go of old patterns, habits, people, work, friendships and yet I sense nothing is truly gone.  It is integrated; transformed.  I carry it all with me – whether I like it or not.  My good deeds and intentions as well as  my faults and sins are all eternally recorded and yet the miracle is that each moment truly is a moment of grace in which we can be reborn a new.  We cannot leave our past behind and yet we are not bound by it either.  The past never leaves us and the possibility of the future is always present.  We are in the eternal “now”. 

 I lived near Salamanca, NY, the home of the Seneca Nation.  I spent time with Grandmother Twylah Nitsch, keeper of the Wolf Clan Teaching Lodge.  She taught me her interpretation of the  Medicine Wheel.   “Medicine” is our life path – the things in life that teach us and help us grow.  It is our lessons, talents, challenges, and choices and our interactions with Spirit, the land and other people.   The circle represents all of life – our earth walk and our spirit walk – on our journey to wholeness.

The Medicine Wheel that I was shown designates the east as the sacred door; the place of new beginnings.  The east offers us the rising sun,  the place of sacred breath and birth ;  not just physical birth, but the birth of visions, dreams, and goals.  (Various Nations have different interpretations or symbols in the directions.)  It is the place of the winged ones – the eagle – who can see far and wide over the land – the bigger picture. The wings are spread open and the heart is exposed to the world.   In this place we can feel a bit ungrounded, vulnerable, and uncertain.  We can get tossed about or knocked off course easily.   Have you ever had a dream or vision and tried to share it with others who did not understand?  We can easily be distracted, deterred or feel a need to be protective of our vision when others disapprove.  This is a delicate place.  

Where are the visions being born in your own life?  What have you begun in this new year of 2010 as a resolution or a goal that is now in its infant stage? What dreams do you have that perhaps others people do not share?  What has caught your attention in the distance that you cannot quite see yet, nevertheless, is calling for you to explore?   What needs to be nurtured and grounded now in your life in order to be made manifest in the world?  

It is important for us to have a good grounding cord so we are not soaring only in our visions and dreams but firmly rooted in the earth and in our physical lives.  In this way we can offer our unique contribution to life.   When we step into the south in the Medicine Wheel we find the “medicine of mouse” which is to be of the earth and see things up close.  Mouse is about seeing the details and steps to accomplish something.   The south is the place of our daily lives and work and family.  It is life exposed in the full noon sun.   It is where we labor.  The east is only a temporary haven for dreams and visions.  They are born there but it is then our job to ground them into form and matter and share them with others.  It is hard work.

This birth process can be scary and it is unpredictable.  Just like giving birth to a child – we do not know exactly what they will look like or how their personality will be until they are here and allowed to grow. So to, our visions need time and space and most of all nurturing commitment in order to fully mature.  I have a sign in my art studio that says “I am your idea. If you do not pay attention to me today I will be gone tomorrow.”  

A vision imagined is just a vision unless we can make it manifest in our lives.   There is a lot of work to be done but we do not need to do it alone.  We can bring our inspirations home and when we live into them we find the world around us makes room, offers support – making the circle bigger.   The Mandala of vision begins to take shape crystallizing our thoughts into a reality that is easier to share with others. Our visions gain strength and stability.  Other people show up at the right time, opportunities, challenges, and resources light our way.  (And sometimes setbacks are blessings.)

This is a quote that Susan, a recent participant visiting The Mandala Center, left for me upon her departure,

 “The moment one definitely commits oneself then Providence moves too.  All sorts of things occur to help one that would never have otherwise occurred…unforeseen incidents and meetings and material assistance, which no man could have dreamed would have come his way.”  Goethe.

For those of you soaring in the east right now; opening and exposing your hearts to new possibilities, I send prayers of support and hope that this New Year brings the Wisdom you seek and the Providence you need.   May you make manifest the visions you hold dear.  Tish Hewitt manifested her vision here when she began to build The Mandala Center.

 Now we are building new visions and moving forward in the process of change and growth.     I trust the land, the staff, and the people who journey here, searching for deeper meaning in their own lives, will participate and prepare for the continuing process of rebirth.  May the circle bind us in the journey.

Lori Coon,  Executive Director