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Hot Nude Yoga LIve from New York|We are all connected Episode
A few months ago, I stumbled across NPR's this I believe. For all those who do not know what NPR is, it is an independent radio station that relies on little funding, and reports the news as it is. In addition, they report on many activities and events in the community that get looked over by big corporate news stations.
If you have ITUNES, you go sign up for their podcasts. They have many, including documentaries, daily news, world stories of the day, and more.
The following is titled, this I believe. You will see very quickly why I was drawn to this article.
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Joy Harjo has written eight collections of poetry and has produced three CDs of her music and poetry. A native of Tulsa, Okla., she is a member of the Muskogee Creek Nation. Harjo lives in Honolulu and teaches writing at the University of New Mexico.You
You may visit her website here.
She writes...
Photo by PaAbdoodoo
I believe in the sun. In the tangle of human failures of fear, greed and forgetfulness, the sun gives me clarity. When explorers first encountered my people, they called us heathens, sun worshippers. They didn't understand that the sun is a relative and illuminates our path on this earth.
A few weeks ago I visited some friends at a pueblo for a feast day celebration. The runners were up at dawn and completed a ceremonial race that ensures that the sun will continue to return. It is a humble and necessary act of respect. And because the celebration continues, the sun, the earth and these humans are still together in a harmonious relationship.
Our earth is shifting. We can all see it. I hear from my Inuit aYupikpik relatives up north that everything has changed. It's so hot; there is not enough winter. Animals are confused. Ice is melting.
The quantum physicists have it right; they are beginning to think like Indians: Everything is connected dynamically at an intimate level. When you remember this, then the current wobble of the earth makes sense. How much more oil can be drained without replacement, without reciprocity?
One day, recently I walked out of a hotel room just off Times Square at dawn to find the sun. It was the fourth morning since the birth of my fourth granddaughter. This was the morning I was to present her to the sun, as a relative, as one of us. It was still dark, overcast as I walked through Times Square. I stood beneath a 21st century totem pole of symbols of multinational corporations, made of flash and neon.
The sun rose up over the city, but I couldn't see it amidst the rain. Though I was not at home, bundling up the baby to carry her outside, I carried this newborn girl within tcradleboardard of my heart. I held her up and presented her to the sun, so she would be recognized as a relative, so that she won't forget this connection, this promise, so that we all remember the sacredness of life.
Independently produced for Weekend Edition Sunday by Jay Allison and DGedimanman with EmiBoteinein, John Gregory and Viki Merrick.
[ Fri, 20 Jul 2007 04:00:00 +0100 ]
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