Leaf Wheel

First night at the cabin, I awoke with images of leaf wheels: leaves sprouting from branches, arranged like spokes around a hub. The day before I had been thinking a good deal about the gash in the gulf bleeding oil into the ocean - where all life begins and ends, like a great wheel, or an engine of creation. I am going to make something using this symbol.

The original image was removed by a hacker. I have since replaced it with a new version from 2014.

A Message

Gulf Coast Oil Spill – Sioux Prayer Request – A letter from Chief Arvol Looking Horse (Present Chief and Keeper of the Sacred White Buffalo Calf Pipe of the Lakota, Dakota, Nakota Nation of the Sioux)
****** A Great Urgency ******
To All World Religious and Spiritual Leaders ******
My Relatives,
Time has come to speak to the hearts of our Nations and their Leaders. I ask you this from the bottom of my heart, to come together from the Spirit of your Nations in prayer.
We, from the heart of Turtle Island, have a great message for the World; we are guided to speak from all the White Animals showing their sacred color, which have been signs for us to pray for the sacred life of all things. As I am sending this message to you, many Animal Nations are being threatened, those that swim, those that crawl, those that fly, and the plant Nations, eventually all will be affect from the oil disaster in the Gulf.
The dangers we are faced with at this time are not of spirit. The catastrophe that has happened with the oil spill which looks like the bleeding of Grandmother Earth, is made by human mistakes, mistakes that we cannot afford to continue to make.
I asked, as Spiritual Leaders, that we join together, united in prayer with the whole of our Global Communities. My concern is these serious issues will continue to worsen, as a domino effect that our Ancestors have warned us of in their Prophecies.
I know in my heart there are millions of people that feel our united prayers for the sake of our Grandmother Earth are long overdue. I believe we as Spiritual people must gather ourselves and focus our thoughts and prayers to allow the healing of the many wounds that have been inflicted on the Earth. As we honor the Cycle of Life, let us call for Prayer circles globally to assist in healing Grandmother Earth (our Unc’I Maka).
We ask for prayers that the oil spill, this bleeding, will stop. That the winds stay calm to assist in the work. Pray for the people to be guided in repairing this mistake, and that we may also seek to live in harmony, as we make the choice to change the destructive path we are on.
As we pray, we will fully understand that we are all connected. And that what we create can have lasting effects on all life.
So let us unite spiritually, All Nations, All Faiths, One Prayer. Along with this immediate effort, I also ask to please remember June 21st, World Peace and Prayer Day/Honoring Sacred Sites day. Whether it is a natural site, a temple, a church, a synagogue or just your own sacred space, let us make a prayer for all life, for good decision making by our Nations, for our children’s future and well-being, and the generations to come.

The Air Force is My Village

I arrived early this evening at the home of my parents. After an hour or so of conversation, my father received a call...the son of an fellow past navigator was passing through town and wanted to stop by. "Sure" says my dad...and he proceeded to provide directions. My mother remarked that she had not seen this person since he was about 4 years old. Turns out that he (Scot) and I were both born in the same Air Force hospital near Lake Charles, Louisiana. In fact, we were IN the hospital newborn ward at the very same time. Naturally we do not remember each other.

Scot wanted to stop and chat with my dad about any stories he might know about his own dad, who had died tragically in a mid-air collision over Kentucky during the mid 1960s. The collision was between a KC-135 (of which his dad was Nav) and a B-52. The two planes had hooked up for a refueling when the B-52 pilot, who was somewhat inexperienced, moved his plane about 20 yards forward, and then proceeded to bank (presumably to correct his mistake). His wing collided with that of the KC135, resulting in a fireball so spectacular, it was seen for 100s of miles around.

Scot did not remember anything about his dad. He was a kid when this happened. And his mother had refused to talk about it.

It is not all that unusual for old Air Force acquaintances to pop up like this every so often. We share connections that have persisted over many years, in some cases, stronger than the bonds of blood relations. People often ask me where I am from. I find myself providing different answers based on how I am feeling at the time. Some times I'm from Louisiana (where I was born); or southern Indiana (the home town of my parents); or from upper peninsula Michigan (where my heart lies); or from St. Louis, where I went to high school; or from various other places I have lived (and where my siblings were born, etc.). When I am feeling particularly aggravated by this question, I answer simply: "I am from the Air Force". This last response results in expressions of confusion or puzzlement on the part of the questioner. Yet this, more than any other answer, is closest to the truth.

It particularly hit home this evening, as my dad and Scot continued to converse about his dead father, that the Air Force was our "home town". We grew up in it, we share the connections that people from normal home towns share. We feel a need to return and understand our home town roots, yet in our case, this is impossible, because our "home town" is scattered over 100s of military bases all over the world. It is a curious existence.