Blog I

30 minutes from South Dakota

xylemlarladey — Tue, 05 Aug 2008 17:18:00 GMT

So here i stand at the guest kiosk in the rapid city library for my 30minute timsslot where the rental car guy dropped me off while i await a car that can return me and the guys and the gear to denver. i thought in the midst of broke down rental car purgatory and what better to do than rant and rave on tribe. Got a lotta sun at the sundance and prayed hard and helped the people pray harder. Supporting ari and the medical camp. Grieving the loss of ari's dad sifu doc rosen with some of the folks who knew him best- the warriors of the american indian movement at chief crowdog's paradise on the rosebud res.... where Doc volunteered when he was our age to stand with AIM at Wounded Knee. Doc earned the respect and brotherhood of some incredible folks, treading (and treating) where few white folks have gone without offense, Doc opened the doorway for those who come in a good way. Doc passed on to us some strict habits of how to be respectful of these traditions. Because he earned so much trust, the family who adopted him as brother now welcomes his son and our camp as family, and that continues to amaze me... Doc brought me there when I was 22 in 2002- fresh out of treesitting, and college, effectively homeless- i mean, on the rainbow trail ;-) in my all black outdoor gear with p-cord tying my knife to my carharts pocket and with only a few bucks to my name- i mean, living in voluntary simplicity- with a duffel bag of climbing gear ready to travel the country doing action trainings i asked how I could build alliances back up between environmentalists and native americans. Where earth first and rainbow family have both burned bridges with old disrespect, cultural appropriation, and lack of reciprocity, Doc believed that we may make amends somehow, that we might have to someday. Doc must have seen something in me, in my enthusiastic and naive quest to help rebuild the bridges, cause next thing I knew he brought me to the Sundance. So this was my fifth year as the "camp mom" basically the chef for the medics- When i first arrived all bright eyed and ready to have these meetings about alliances, Doc told me to shut up and listen. That the best thing i could do was chop wood and carry water for a few years, let folks see me work. The time would come later to talk about alliance. I was planning to have those talks with Doc at my side, and I shed tears over the fact that I must have learned all I needed to learn before he left this world. I must carry on that work I came to do with the best guidance I got along the way. And work we do- Ari and the Medical Staff did an amazing job treating the families who are supporting the Sundancers and keeping an eye on any dancers pushing their bodies to the limits in the beautiful ceremony of fasting and honoring of the elements and the tribes. While Crowdog's dance is one of the few that is open to outsiders- Europeans, Africans, Japanese, South Americans, Aztecs all dance here- and that has been controversial among some leaders of other tribes, it has its high and low points for sure- I continue to be impressed amongst any bullshitters and politricks with the amount of respect that there IS present. I am inspired by the new generation of chiefs and women warriors coming up who are doing their best to train in the old ways and keep these ceremonies alive and true. While I have some criticism of some of these outsiders who disrespect the traditions- out of ignorance or out of laziness- I feel inspired by those folks who do follow the teachings by the openness of some Native people to the outsiders who follow the teachings in a good way and by the strength of the Sundancers who stand up strong in an example to follow of strength and sacrifice and prayer. I feel honored to be welcomed there by some of the most discerning of the leaders- because of the example Doc walked of utter respect and service, and Ari's humble step up to lead our camp in that way, our camp staff is welcomed as family who know how to support the people in a good way. I am humbled to pray in that circle- this was our second of four years in memorial- praying for Uncle Doc's journey in the spirit world, and myself praying to live up to all that I've been taught and all that I came for. An overwhelming task- to build alliances, that in the times to come I may be a link between our patchworked tribe and the true warriors of this land. This prayer brought me to my knees in that circle. And I realized, that falling to my knees- literally- while giving my offering, was a wakeup call. I strive to live up to that purpose, it is time that I speak up for why I have come. I spent four years shutting up and listening, to the point of feeling too shy to speak- after all, who is this white girl anyway and what right do I have to ask for the time of these great warriors young and old. but, I got shaken up this year and called to action. a subtle shift, but a natural one, my fifth year there and folks have started to want to learn my name. They see me work, carry water, pickup trash, run for medical supplies, and feed the docs. I dance in support, and this year I fasted with the dancers- hard to fast as the camp chef ;-) -and folks started to ask me what I do. slowly, and far more shy than i sound on my tribe blog, I began to speak of all of you. of the folks planting fruit trees, of the folks saving trees, of the folks growing food and medicines, of the folks who know how to feed thousands of people a day in the woods, of the folks drumming the heartbeat, of the folks serving in the indigenous places of the world, of the folks sitting in ceremony. and i began to say when the time comes to work together for the earth, that I am here to make a link. and so I prayed with all of you there in that arbor. i prayed for you to be strong and follow your own purpose. i prayed for the children. i prayed that we may all network and stand together. i prayed that we may all shut up and listen. i prayed that we may all chop wood and carry water and plant seeds and honor the teachings that each of us has been gifted from our various lineages, that we may do all this in a good way. and i don't mind- not too much anyway- that my rental broke down. i spent the night by the lake in the lightning storm in the black hills, i got a ride on the back of one of the many bikes here for the rally in sturgis, where mccain and kidrock shared the stage last night. i got a later flight out of denver into oakland. i got a chai latte. i got 47 seconds left on my 30min at the standup library internet kiosk. be good family... keep in touch. for the youth and for the earth, xylem larla dey

death song of a magpie

xylemlarladey — Sat, 19 Jul 2008 11:07:55 GMT

i still write in my tribe blog, look at this moment with me as i drove and my mind slipped into thought my eyes watched helplessly as my car careened into a sudden streak of magpie- a jubilant, emerging from a roadside tree flying low across the road my magpie friend- for i regard all magpies as friends, and i felt a moment of recognition before steel struck bird a moment of connection with this soul's destiny careening with my car's trajectory and bam! a wet thud broke my heart as it must have broken this bird body irreperably and i pulled over and walked back and sat, singing, to the slumped bird that barely made it out of the road on the other side where it lay belly down, tail open, one wing open and covering it's red-top head with it's black and white spot shield, it's head tucked into the comfort of its own darkness, and i sang a rainbow song sistren's ballad in soprano "sweet soul, your journey's just begun... sweet lover of the light your time has come... on the wave of the heart the white bird flies... from life to life she rides a wind, never born and never dies." my friend gasped at breath with each heartbeat, which moved its whole body and it began to sound the death song with each exhale, slowly from feeble moaned melodic sounds as i first began to sing, and then a quiet stillness as it seemed to drift between the realms of recovery and death and i knew not what path it may choose... seeing the extent of its injury and knowing survival meant pain, i prayed for the most high path for the soul of the bird to be at peace... and our magpie began to move, life force emitting in waves with each exhale, at first only audible as air heaved thru the tiny lungs. then the bird's beak emerged from beneath its wing and began to sing, and slowly the magie with many deep breaths heaved itself by rocking sound thru its body with each heartbeat, a song that brought me to tears as i sang open a gateway to the light and the golden thread beyond its bodily life. its delicate head rolled heavy around toward the direction of my voice and of the west, the setting sun as it came to rest in a much more natural position on its belly with its wings at its sides, and just in its last sounding before it found center, a tail feather tucked out of its tail as a gift for me to carry onward as its medicine, a small testament to my bearing witness to raw life force energy sounding a primal pulse thru the messenger of the bird tribe to remind i of the gift of life.

seeking brooklyn sublet mid-december to mid-february

xylemlarladey — Sat, 14 Jun 2008 06:21:58 GMT

hey yall! i know i'm one of those advance planning types, but i figure since i know my timeframe i might as well put it out there and up the odds of finding a sweet space to lay my head. so yeah, i'd like to live in a room, in brooklyn, with some chill roommates, ideally old friends or friends of friends, or at least people in my extended network... from mid-december to mid-february. i won't have a lot of stuff, as i am settled in california, so my room can be relatively small tho it'd be nice to have good windowed light and i would like to live in a super nice room if it popped up. i will have my tabla drums and practice daily for an hour or two- ideally this would be an enjoyable experience for the roommies, and i can adjust my practice times accordingly, and if roommies were musicians that could be fun. i tend to stay up really late at night, and rise relatively early for how late i stayed up. sometimes i nap in the middle of the day. i don't smoke tobacco and prefer tobacco free environs- or if the people are really great, i can get over that if there's equally great ventilation. i eat at home a lot cause i can be a bit picky, so a kitchen to cook in and some storage space in a cabinet and a fridge would be nice. i eat mostly vegetarian without cheese and with some fish, but i don't freak on anyone's diets- trust me, here in california i've seen everything- and i do enjoy homecooked meals together sometimes, and i'm looking forward to all the great places to eat out. i am from new jersey and plan to visit there once a week for one to two nights, so i'll actually be gone a good amount of time. when i'm home i like some alone time to read and write and meditate and also like to be social, i'd like to reconnect with a lot of old friends... i'll probably go out visiting a lot, and it'd be nice if the pad was a place that friends would be welcome to visit me too. i cultivate communication, respect, sharing, have lived a lot in community, have great stories of travel and adventures- generally easy to get along with, if you don't mind artistic quirky earthy types. ;-) i don't know the going rates but i'm able to pay whatever that is, no worries. i'm putting this out early so i'll be on your mind if something sweet comes up please think of me and let me know, you can forward this to your friends, any leads please email me at xylemita@gmail.com or call me 908-812-1813. give thanks! take care peace xylem larla dey

photo frustration on tribe.net

xylemlarladey — Thu, 12 Jun 2008 23:55:48 GMT

hey yall, in a generally happy relationship with tribe.net, i find their services in posting photos seriously lacking. there are a number of friends on tribe who are featured in these fabulously bollywood birthday party photos, but alas, tribe only allows posting 1mb photos and they're all -almost all- 1.3 to 1.8... and it won't even let me post this awesome scarfdancing shot of tahir that's .9, or this beautiful photo of me and padma with amrita and her belly that's 1.3. (and too cute!) i know there's probably a way to change my photo sizes, but whatever. you're welcome to come over and do it for me, otherwise you're welcome to join facebook (it's fun, you'll find your friends from elementary school, and then they can stalk you) or myspace (you can listen to music and be stalked by musicians) where they have more liberal photo-add functions. i posted sixty of them to facebook, and twice as many to myspace, and you look great, and i wish you could see them on tribe, but whatever. maybe its time you joined facebook anyway huh? weren't you thinking about it? you can find me there, and sudi, alexis... easier to post photos... it's watched by the c.i.a. or so they say, so be forewarned, don't incriminate yourself with silly remarks. ;-) ok. well. i love you all. thanks for being there, sharing the love, i can't believe that was only two weeks ago... transformed since then, yungchen darshan, enroute to amma's... see you at devi bhava...

what can i say, i just love yall a lot

xylemlarladey — Sun, 01 Jun 2008 20:30:26 GMT

how beautiful life is, and family so sweet... wawawah... bollywood birthday billiards party photos coming soon... you know, as much fun as it will be to post the pics, i just really do love words... moments can not be suspended, encapsulated in pixels, digitilized for future reference--- and yet, the smiles as i watch the pics witness joy in our faces over cakes, dancing, honeywines, saris and shine, and sudheesh's bling glasses... dark fell upon sweet harmonies and hesitant hungry people... circled for dessert, songs and two cakes for each of two birthday ladies, ameya in her fabulous red lotus sari and thick beautiful locks... my shiny gold and green silk suit with biggest bellbottoms ever, straight from varanasi with matching bangles... soooo fun to celebrate together, our birthday earth day blessed love and light day... gemini sister seastars... glad to be walking together, with you all... i love you all family- we asked for a cake, and yall brought four... five!... and raw chocolates! and coconut bliss!... thanks, everybody, for the fun times we've been thru, i'm glad we're here together on the planet in this time... the delectible desserts, the grooving dance music, the bollywood flair... and the fabulous latenight scarfdancing babas... our friends shiny dancing happy glitteringly bespeckled funny sunny garden fairies gettin funky... i have been bejewelled by my brothers: thank you prabat, freedom, and zen, for the sacred crystal tokens of your affectionate protection shine in my aura today as i begin another circle round the sun... thank you friends for the scarves, the weaving, the lavendar and the tulsi, the beautifully bell... ringing forward in awareness that we are not alone, i give thanks for remembrace of your love thru the dark of the moon... and most of all thank you for coming to smile together, smoke together, sing and dance and laugh together, thanks to the babas holding down the satsang and the reasoning... to the representatives from the far-off lands: quebec, australia, finland, greece, and to our youngest guest, gayatri... what a babe. ;-) so glad to have the oldschool and the newschool fam circle in such a good space of love and light and celebration of life. chill to the max... i give thanks for new friends... i love... i give thanks for those who couldn't make it in person- for timing or lack of directions... and yet yall are singing in our hearts... the saucy dancing... the backbeat... ananda's sweet guitar licks... the new bass tree... and shall we mention the pool table action... i'm glad i've still got it in me to sink a few good ones, including the 8, and won us a dinner at ikes, a winwin situation... see you there... thank you.... and thank you to my mama, for being the channel through which i entered the world and learned of its wonders through your eyes, for being my first teacher of how to feel good and have a really fun time... i love you... we love you all ways xo x

giving thanks

xylemlarladey — Mon, 14 Apr 2008 05:46:58 GMT

for soccer sundays! for turning new pages, for growing new leaves, for being at peace when the pieces are all messy and for cleaning up my act. for east coast humor and for west coast food. for water, earth, breath, and the firey heat of these past few days. for harry potter book five. for the lorax, who speaks for the trees. for the seeds that are sprouting, for the sun that shines, and for the moon waxing tonight .

pakistani sistren, indian gurus, fruit tree tour and home to the windy hills

xylemlarladey — Mon, 25 Feb 2008 08:33:21 GMT

ah, now at last i've told my mother i went to pakistan, now i can tell you: pakistan is beautiful. thank you, thank you, qawwali tribe, amena, tahir, the bell rings as i write your names. i am so humbled to sit next to you, i am so grateful and bless you up so much for your further studies and travels. thanks to our tribe opening the door i got to step into the most incredible family, amena's teacher is a kindhearted soul and deep master of the art of tabla, and the transmissions from he and his sons are reverberating still within my mind and i feel i am only just now beginning to learn... his wife and daughters taught me so much about hospitality and womanhood, taking pride in their work caring for their family and for us as their guests, and oh! the food is fabulous and they are psychic- whenever i'd wish for a chai or a certain dish it would appear. and so humble, i have much to learn from them i know... our group is not so small i give thanks for the work to have fed us all so well and kept us warm and clean and in such good fun... i know i am an ambassador for so many sistren who wonder what is our sister amena's life is like in pakistan, and i can tell you it's amazing... the love the women have for amena is palpable, after every time she plays she's swarmed with ladies wanting to hug and kiss her, and if they couldn't get close enough to her they'd grab me and shower me with love and gifts and squeezes and i became a channel for her... at the main urs i was so humbled to sit beside her, as her student, watching closely, feel the vibes, embraced by the lady fakir at the front of the womens' section and my ear chanted chanted up with blessings... the only white woman around paki for a while has been amena, and jen and i got swarmed with people thinking we were her or wanting to know where she was... and i gotta say the veil came in handy- most ladies in pakistan cover their shoulders and chest all the time and cover their head in public, but not too tightly... and while a few cover fully all the time, it seemed most only cover their full face when wanting privacy, and i came to enjoy the respect that came when i put the veil over my face, give thanks for my brown italian eyes, i could choose to be incognito for a moment, introvert and go where i needed to go... tho i didn't often go anywhere alone- in three weeks i went on walks alone only twice, and while my fiercely independent nature was challenged by this at times i came to appreciate the protective intention of our muslim brothers, the comradery of sisters walking together, and i give so much thanks to the brothers of our own tribe who walked with me when i just had to go out and couldn't fend the crowd alone. and yeah, you know the holy men at one ceremony we went to let all the guys play but wouldn't let amena play. and at all the holy places it used to be like that, she said. slowly, slowly... the holy men were in debates about it actually, one wanted her to play and one held a firm no, and our brother kept telling us to go to the women's section or go home. hard... and so we went to the balcony where ladies sit, to watch and support our bredren play... and i felt that depth of emotion in the juxtaposition of our cultures, i felt my own independent american woman's mind fighting inside with the oldoldoldboys religious tradition and i felt amena's strength to have done this so much and to have been there alone in the women's section all those other times. and i was glad to be there, natural, to cry together and then to pray and feel the blessings of the saint and feel our bredren's music ring and amena's teacher's son rocked the house on tabla, and we sisters danced and spun and mosted and cried and prayed and laughed and sang with the women as our only audience and i was glad it was that way. in these times when lives loved pass so quickly and the earth changes so rapidly when we remember the preciousness of life, and the illusion of death- the sufi culture of remembrance is so potent- remembrance of the life of the saints, gathering and playing ecstatic music at their very tombs, real celebration and really giving up so much, giving up attachments to these worldly things, and taking an assessment, of what we really want to pray for and why we're really here. we were in paki on the holy days remembering the death of the family of the prophet, and the depth of grief and prayer on these days is beyond words, least to say that i am still moved each day by the heartbeat, and by the strong songs of the women in unison with and for their muslim tribe. thank you, pakistani family, for sharing with our tribe that paki's people are peaceful and kind, for sharing your prayer with us, for teaching our brother and sister and welcoming us there as your kin, and may each of us walk on and share the true story-- even as paki erupted on the world news, and it was cast as some alarming place, we heard the word that life on the streets was actually calm. and it was beautiful. let it be another lesson not to believe everything you see on tv, even on cnn hey... everything is portrayed thru a certain lens and for a particular reason. at the risk of being too political in public, i'll say our media is focused on painting a certain picture of muslim nations for a certain agenda, and i ask you to please know better, please know the reality of peace that prevails in paki. some isolated acts of violence may happen, and did happen while we were there even- i won't pretend the place is perfect, but hey- neither is jersey. the day to day life of the people is calm and roots. and yeah just as your average us citizens are not subject to the murderous statistics of every day in new york, so are the people in paki in general not subject to statistical violence... and any waves that the usa is making towards 'saving pakistan' are just looking for trouble. (we've already sent troops there, did you know?) but i digress. the journey is spiritual, and therein is my focus. i pray for our family there that the climate stays sane and safe, and that more family joins them in uniting through sacred music. please remember pakistan in your prayers for peace. allah hafiz jah protect phir melenge see you later, more to come...

From Rumi: Father Reason

xylemlarladey — Sun, 18 Jun 2006 06:54:56 GMT

The universe is a form of divine law, your reasonable father. When you feel ungrateful to him, the shapes of the world seem mean and ugly. Make peace with that father, the elegant patterning, and every experience will fill with immediacy. Because I love this, I am never bored. Beauty constantly wells up, a noise of springwater in my ear and in my inner being. Tree limbs rise and fall like the ecstatic arms of those who have submitted to the mystical life. Leaf sounds talk together like poets making fresh metaphors. The green felt cover slips, and we get a flash of the mirror underneath. Think how it will be when the whole thing is pulled away! I tell only one-thousandth of what I see, because there's so much doubt everywhere. The conventional opinion of this poetry is, it shows great optimism for the future. But Father Reason says, No need to announce the future! This now is it. This. Your deepest need and desire is satisfied by the moment's energy here in your hand. ~~ A craftsman pulled a reed from the reedbed, cut holes in it, and called it a human being. Since then, it's been wailing a tender agony of parting, never mentioning the skill that gave it life as a flute. ~~ Humble living does not diminish. It fills. Going back to the simpler self gives wisdom. When a man makes up a story for his child, he becomes a father and a child together, listening.

where 'i' am

xylemlarladey — Sun, 01 Jan 2006 19:54:31 GMT

UNO: Where ‘I’ am Yesterday: The rains came An overcast sky burst forth In midafternoon And promises to pour through winter Flooding over this forest, Watering these roots and sending them down Pouring grease in the truck and riding around I find myself visiting, now: An altar transformed inspires the heart In shades of Gold and Divine Love The presence of the saints smiles Reminding I of service and grace Now: Immersed in hot liquid Singing with my bredren and my guide Joyfully celebrating being wet Now: Home, on the ridge Checking newly transplanted cherry trees Clearing space and taking care for the love and life of Radha. Enjoying solitude, The nearest neighbors’ windchimes are no longer audible in the rain. All is forest sounds save for the traffic on Highway 49 Which is usually about five cars in ten minutes Save for ‘rush’ hour, when it’s maybe twenty… The tribe has flown on to tropical places And the motherland, I am left with a montage of pictures of dozens of friends Who’ve been in this home these months Flickering across the computer screen As I stand in the kitchen alone at the blender. No one knows I’m naked all day here Save for sheepskin boots against cold tile Mixing up superfood smoothies and Steamed veggie miso soups Filling mason jars with warm teas And donning my hat My canine companions remind I to walk after dinner At sunset Even in the rain. They beckon to visit the tallest pine tree, To curl up in brush and smell the cedar. We walk in the madrone grove and ponder fairies… This husky delights at being chased And does not care to ever be caught. This golden lab curls up with me to read sacred texts at night. My own mind is focused on release Release of what is stagnant I burn all the old research and visions That they may be created anew What’s this gypsy doing with a filing cabinet anyway? Diving into ancestral cells I wring out droplets of old blood and tears Letting go what is not mine to carry any longer Fear, Pain, Anger, Acknowledged and released I step into Faith and Love and Devotion And my prayers are of gratitude Receptivity Offering May my hands and my heart serve the Most High I drift to sleep pondering the words of the Mother Divine I awake to the sound of raindrops Unrelenting winds accompany my morning mantra Catching my breath, I sit up and sing My lowest note for as long as possible In the stillness of low D I watch the cloudbank reveal and obscure the facing hillside Ponder the lines of past timbersales, My time in Oregon has forever trained my eye to notice Difference between the naturally forested mix of species And the monocrop replanted above it, the trees a little too close together, My heart aches a little too much to inquire yet if the saws still cut this forest down As I slowly climb to G swift licks of mist wind sensually along treetops, a lover’s caress The fingers of the clouds inspire I to strum the drum Now: A bluejay in the oak tree dances to the eastern rhythms A bee ends it’s life upon the window-altar, Reminding I of life’s precious gift and stepping up the tempo Tabla transmission flows thru me, until the body aches to move Sun salutations and twists as a flock of blackbirds darts between oak and pine The mind composes lines for you even in its emptiness, Wishing for all to feel such love for them selves, for their tribe, for the earth. Now: Amazonian songs and ceremony of beauty, release, catharsis Letting go of what I no longer need Freeboxin the internal dialogue of ancestresses’ past, The fears, the worries, the regrets Offered up to the Divine Mother I sob in gratitude For all the lessons learned in love, I sob away the fear of not being loved and I accept the loving healing hands of friends… The comfort of a sistafriend’s lap, the squeeze of a bredren’s strong hands on my skull, The singing of these ancient songs into my ear by a sweet forest pixie deva, The sacred talismans around my wrists and neck carry energy from dear ones, Reminders of the love of our earth tribe family I accept deep sensory impressions of these friends’ healing hands upon my soul, Realize how long I’d held my heart closed for fear of letting it all fall apart Find that the loving support of the group is the very antidote to the fear, And should the fear ever come back these hands have etched into my energy body The knowledge of Divine Love As my tabla drumming teachers have pressed into my hands with theirs To teach correct alignment, that the impression may return to correct habits of hand So too have these friends impressed the habit of receiving Love into my heart I breathe into myself the Lioness and she helps I find my voice To join these songs I sing Joyfully In gratitude I see the faces of the shining children Learning, watching food be grown from seed And Biodiesel and Veggie-oil being pumped by folks willing to get a lil’ bit greasy I imagine all the little ones watching the ways of the earth tribe And with full clarity I know That all the little things our tribe learns and shares with family Will heal the earth as she is healing us And we are but to learn, learn the old ways to pass on to the new ones And this song keeps on on on in my mind To the shake of the rattle And the whistle of the bird… Now: Latenight in the city tended by the angels of the organic vegan Feel Real Cafe on 45th and Judah by the ocean... another ancient indigenous song revealed With patience, until I am fully versed and asked to carry it on to share… The Red Road gently beckons me back toward Teachings from these native lands To prayers learned in Sweatlodges and at Sundance Humbly I offer myself to receive the medicine of song. Now: Chills come in A day to activate my health care plan- neti pot, and snorting ginger and goldenseal, tinctures of echicnacea and yerba santa… another day, hawthorne and dandelion tinctures in nettles-raspberry leaf tea… another day, pumpkin seeds and flax oil with tamari over steamed greens… another day a ten minute headstand… another day, just durian… tigers eat em. all better. Now: Pruning, discernment, The most haunting part of gardening for I Branches that would have been still growing are visible to my mind’s eye Like the missing trees I could still see On logging roads and clearcuts- oh, excuse me, regeneration harvests Euphemisms mask the forests’ reality only on paper In person I walk logging roads and feel the presence of the trees passed… Can even see the patterns of the ghosts of branches and leaves in the twilight of dawn Sarcastic relations jest at me that vegetarians are murdering plants And I know yall don’t get it that it’s true, ripping a carrot out of the earth is a little hard for me too… silly as it may sound to you and as much as I may also jest Each cut thru plant flesh is difficult, I feel it yes and laugh at my sensitivity How it has guided all my life decisions really, this incredible empathy In childhood I became physically ill watching a teacher berate children And it became the resolve to step into the unknown as a homeschooler And come into my autodidactic self, still going strong, In college I became concerned about all the trash that must be in the forest After one of these rainbow gathering things, so I went to go clean up and we all know how that changed my life with the gift of a family, a tribe… In the forests of Oregon I saw these ghosts of trees and felt their pain as chainsaws raged And it strengthened the resolve to keep snowshoeing in supplies each weekend alongside the more experienced ones… Walking on with the gift of a Name and a seed planted in my heart from a Cedar Fairy… Now, a shift, these years of gardening, planting fruit trees, has also led to pruning and weeding, The practice of discernment and application of tough love, deciding when it’s time to harvest, not unlike when it’s time to complete projects and move on… Pruning reflects for I the internal practice of cutting out clutter of the mind and heart, Allowing all creative juice to flow without distraction.... Cutting energetic chords to memories and materials and folks, Even the good ones, even the best ones, I allow them all to fall away, remaining only as whispered energetic impressions Not unlike the energy pruned branches and felled trees— Largely unseen, Rather felt viscerally, weaving into consciousness Helping to create the fabric of the present moment Enhancing understanding of what it is to be here Now: Another durian ceremony Now: Steamed kale and yam and beets over miso and avocado Now: Wet dogs pounce on face Now: The wind hurls water at the side of this roof incessantly And New Year’s Eve day awakens to a new yoni carved into the earth From Her flow down the mountain side Mudslides Close off exits and encourage contentment. Good thing I planned New Year’s Eve ceremony alone… A sign from the Divine to trust that intuition Prepare a feast for one. And I spend the evening sorting through the old and letting it go I’ve gazed upon pictures of your smiling faces tonight Prepared to initiate a new altar in the new dawn And boogied in the California midnight with the dance music From Belinda and Abe’s disco wedding CD. Yes, dear new york friends, I did the hustle tonight. I love you too.

where i've been

xylemlarladey — Sun, 01 Jan 2006 19:51:49 GMT

DOS: where I’ve been This fall I have come to live on ‘the ridge,’ a town called north san juan, official population posted 125, near grass valley on the yuba river northeast of the bay area. The lessons in community have abounded as our rainbow family came through in houses of 30 or more prior to pilgrimages to teachers in India, Pakistan, Costa Rica… I’ve been grateful to receive teachings on the tabla and the music and the soul From our dear friends on the Qawwali path (Ecstatic Sufi Musicians): Fanna Fi Allah, a troupe nine strong currently en route to Pakistan (May their travels be blessed, safe, and harmonious!) I emerged from their company transformed by ecstatic dance, With the added bonus of pushup and situp competitions to spice it up a bit. Lessons in life and love have abounded… Sent I alight and then brought strongly down to earth, grounded, In answer to many in my east coast life who’ve asked how it is I live in community all the time, the answer is, with a good dose of solitude to balance it all out. ;-) That said, the community here on the ridge, particularly the strong women here, is super enriching, I am likely to return to live here in the spring, it’s a really welcome shift into the bigger trees after my two years among the desert rock of southern california…. For minds inquiring into the mystery past of the FBI raid and arrest At my environmental co-op home down in Pomona, not only did the local cops apologize and give a bunch of money to my friend for all the slander, but now the FBI has also made concession that they were wrong, as per an article in Newsweek back in the last weeks of November… Tho I believe the community still is going, many of the friends from that home who were there then are now dispersed into the rest of our lives, tho that experience is etched upon us. many remain close friends… and very very aware of the depth of the violations of civil liberties being done in the name of security… very wary of the powers of the state acting so rashly upon innocent do-gooders, noticing how the media frenzy eating up our home altered the fabric of my family life forever, changed in ways no newspaper article or court decision can ever mend. I remain active for the earth in ritual and in prayer and in dance… I know some forest defense friends may wonder why I disappeared. I can tell you that I’ve never climbed again since the day that Horehound fell A comrade, a bright young sister soul who slipped from the tree-sit just before Eagle Creek was won, and every time I came close to the timber sales after that I could not speak, I needed a little time, and just as I had gone to the south to heal my heart and retreat off the front lines a little bit, along came federal agents kidnapping my friend, stealing my resume and invading my dreams… In search of ways to heal myself I stepped into the life of a Yogini I leaned forward into the hugs of Ammachi, the hugging mother saint from India (www.ammachi.org) And found myself attuning up in Reiki, chanting mantras and twisting And yes standing on my head. The sound of some far-off chainsaw on this rainy evening Ignites my passion, And that my full two sets of climbing gear I used to give trainings with Were stolen from my ashram home this fall, Ignites my rage, And in praying that whoever took them brought them to a treesit I find I wind up there once more in my dreams. The trees gave me this name that I still carry And so the reality of having been a treesitter comes up all the time All these years…. slowly my heart is mending, slowly able to face again this reality Slowly getting re-excited by talk of dreamcatchers in canopies Slowly growing impatient with being only point and click involved Slowly the lioness growls within me as she sees these logging trucks come out of this national forest and slowly the owl that hoots in the night outside this cabin home reminds me what it’s like to sleep in the trees accompanied by the Great Horned… Yet I am wary of being actively political in this country, in these times, I am weary being on the list at the airline to always be ‘randomly’ searched— And tho there are still things that will always call me back to these homes I know, I seek to not be too attached to the American reality and cast my eyes beyond the borders of this country for where to settle in years to come. Still I have callings here to fulfill, mostly for the little ones…. I am eternally grateful for the eleven organic, freespirited children who were my teachers in LA and the primary reason why I stayed down south: You know who you are, dear ones, so shiny and bright and real- I looooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooove you! In those times I was graced with life advice from the under seven set, Fresh from the source. So thankful for their grace and for the kindness within which Their organic parents shared their homes, nonviolent communication, organic nutrition, homeschooling, and lovely skills of nurturing with I. Also loved working with youth in planting fruit trees in schools with Fruit Tree Tour…. More to come on that! I did complete my Devi Yoga Teacher Training this past February and taught for five months, three classes a week at my teacher’s studio: kids yoga games, adult postures with philosophy, and a restorative class (really lush, check it out sometime). Then went to the Rainbow Gathering in West Virginia, my sixth, Helped to hold space for another beautiful Yoga Healing Arts Camp (www.yogahealingarts.org) And set the Gathering record for consecutive cartwheels at 54, To a rollicking 4am count at the Granola Funk Theater. Then a whole summer on the east coast, Rekindling kinships Sharing California recipes Walking late nights with dear ones Lingering over the rivers and streams of my childhood Trading tabla for yoga Retreating to an ashram in Pennsylvania for a week of Yoga and Sound and Philosophy Noticing I feel at home in Brooklyn Even if I do prefer these western woods and culture Yall still move my heart out east, ‘Specially when you get all dressed up and get married.

where i'm going

xylemlarladey — Sun, 01 Jan 2006 19:48:41 GMT

TRES: where I’m going Mid-January I am off for a brief tropical adventure on Kauai, first time to Hawaii! Greatful for the opportunity a nice carrot at the end of my rainy days here, ey. Feb. 1st I return to the states and embark upon an adventure with Fruit Tree Tour, this year I’ll be on the bus the whole tour, details below... www.commonvision.org Post Fruit Tree Tour remains to be seen, likely to root once more on the ridge, With possible trips to the Rainbow Gathering, etc. during the summer And dreams toward an eastern adventure next fall for the Thailand World Rainbow Gathering in Dec 06 and the KumbaMela in India. I have meditated on the dream of grad school for education, and determined that yes, I will carry forth the dream of creating a sustainable education design for children but no, grad school is not the best next step for I, perhaps yes before opening a ‘school’, now I realize that I won’t be doing that anytime too soon anyway…. I’m needing to dive into music and yoga and travel first, Knowing I will have more life experience to offer youth down the road… So I hunker in to clear my debts and live this life to the fullest of my dreams, await clarity on what sustainable land project to join with, with whom, and where….