The Seed Beings Relent, Release and Scatter in the Wind – Breath of 1 IK
A Message for the Wind/IK Trecena by Minisa Crumbo Halsey, 1 Wind/IK
The autumn, medicine direction, so mysterious in it’s unfolding is driven by so many things both coming and going. All things and beings are finding themselves within an active stage of transition. This transition brings us to ride the free floating, first breaths of wind, ourselves no more nor less than the bobbing milk weed seed parachuting out of a bursting pod, the ovoid snow precursing clouds visiting from the north lands, wild rice stems feeling the beaters stick knock loose seeds falling to canoe bottoms…how many are the allusions and metaphors of the season…all of them written by previous seasons and now loosening all but the most ephemeral and essential controls of discovering core identities as we pause within the great autumn cyclical count of days.
The winds breath spirits to the spirit world. Within the ongoing Evolution of all beings, including our beautiful Mother Earth, we find ourselves once again in an active act of separation from the previous known. We remember the instructions to be breathed alive and count the harvest that the Mother provides equally, irregardless of whether we sowed and planted, gather or simply observe, surrender and be.
The Power Platforms of Seasonal Certainty and Uncertainty
Balance-imbalance..the walk and dance of duality produces movement and time
The predictable power of planned, focused and goal activity can produce, seat and hold stable concepts and provide platforms for measured growths of every kind. The given and structured bedrock measuring tables of favored plan, are positioned to broaden and shift beyond their original parameters, becoming a format to measure unplanned and evolutionary changes, platforms stationed, if not prepared, to receive and absorb the unexpected shocks of any medicine journey. However, the transitional medicine journeys over seasonal thresholds hold particular piquancies of swirling, therefore uncertain merge and movement of medicines as now, one gives-away and now, one takes on past and future history, navigating the NOW center, well-greased axle hole window of the Medicine Wheel.
The natural world continues to be a universal lens through which to observe the micro and macrocosm movements as they station upon the Medicine Wheel. Visiting the autumn medicine harvest irresistibly reveals the conscious interactive bounty created out of the mindful ceremonies and preparations of the previous winter but also those of the spring planting and summer tending songs and labors. Certainty and uncertainty run riot. Let’s look at a few seed and weather scenarios, taking time to draw personal parallels and meditating on similarities and differentiated qualities.
As the autumn harvest and medicine time deepens, so too, do thoughts turn to the proven and worthy seeds which are now beginning to be looked over, counted, selected and considered. Prayers are beginning to take shape in the mind. The firing ceremonies of growth intention and sacred seed introduction to Mother Earth lies yet in the future, shrouded within winter’s coldest and darkest precincts, preparing to cluster around the deepest inner earth and spirit fires of thinking, being and inspiration. But for now, the twilight journey into introspective-medicine depths continues with feasting, thanks giving and strength building.
The Seed Beings Relent, Release, Scatter
The late harvests continue. Some corn seeds are roasted, others dried, others yet are ground and formed into thick blue and yellow corn cakes and tortillas, mottled with black spots, soft and fluffy from slow, wood cookstove tops. Wild rice grains rain at the touch of a gathering stick, perhaps threshed by the weight of a small child and wood parched, cooked tender but not curled. Sunflower heads no longer turn to follow the sun, they dry and drop seed. Green chiles are roasted, steamed and peeled but most of the crop is left to ripen red in the field to be dried and ground into warming, red, winter chile..swimming with beans and fat squares of chicharron, bearing the dip of those tortillas or deep fried sopapillas. Olives shaken to the ground tarps release fragrant oil, sweet enough to sip with a spoon. Bogs give over to giant cranberry combs and when another comb is scratched open it drips honey. Hard squash and pumpkin are stored; herbs are hung, dried and stored in paper bags and packages with pencil legends; tomatoes are canned, pickled cucumbers and vegetables are fermented or piccalilli set in vinegar and salt baths studded with colorful mustard seed, garlic, chilies and dill weed; late berries get sugared and boiled..beans and corn dried on the vine and stalk; heavy wheat heads combined for winter bread; hummingbirds no longer draw red flower nectar to power the long flight south, so too, the Monarch and many other beings of the sky and air.
All of these things and more are being breathed alive, NOW, beneath and within the late introspective-medicine days and nights, passing into winter purity and spirit… The seeds have sprouted, flowered, manifested and given-away, mated by whatever agent of wind or proboscis, born new life, dried out or harvested soft, passed through many weathers and hands now to be seen as roadside asters, echinacea, bowls of beans with red, pumpkin pie, wreath and arrangement of dry thistle head and corn shuck doll, bull head stickers in bare feet, persimmon seeds with the coming winter weather pattern etched in each slippery seed dropped by feasting raccoons, choke cherry jelly set in Mason jars, plum pits and apple cores blown out and tossed aside, bugle of elk; spawning fish netted, smoked and dried but leaving new seed generations returning to the sea, initiating new cycles….so do we..do..all of these things, beneath the gaze of our Grandfather Sky-Sun and upon the body of our Mother the Earth and all of our relations.
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