AEDM – Day 27 – Thanksgiving/Gratitude


Art Every Day Month – Day 27  – Thanksgiving/Gratitude

While many of us are celebrating Thanksgiving Day in the U.S., others are not.  Whether because of living where this is not a holiday, or living in a manner that does not promote celebration, it is still a day to be still at some point and ponder the value we place on each other, the planet, our world, and our lives. It needs to be more than just about a meal with a bird in it.  I wish everyone a beautiful day, a joyous day, and a healthful and loving day, whoever and wherever you are.

No visual art today.  Few words of my own except this – Please be mindful this Thanksgiving Day of who you are, where your roots are, where your path might lead, how you can share this with others who are unlike you, and the manner in which you consume and replace the riches of our world.  Let this be a day to also celebrate the original people of this country for their sacrifices.  And let us not forget that their sacrifices, mostly taken with hostility, are beyond comprehension.  This is the ground we walk on. In their words….

I know not if the voice of man
can reach to the sky;
I know not if the mighty one
will hear as I pray;
I know not if the gifts I ask
will all granted be;
I know not if the word of old
we truly can hear;
I know not what will come to pass
in our future days;
I hope that only good will come,
my children, to you.
~ Woman’s Song from The Hako, a ritual drama of the Pawnee.

———————–

I am purified and free.

And I will not allow you to ignore me.
I have brought you a gift.
It is all I have but it is yours.
You may reach out and enfold it.
It is only the strength in the caress of a gentle breeze,
But it will carry you to meet the eagle in the sky.
My name is “I am living.” I am here.
My name is “I am living.” I am here.

~ Anna Lee Walters, Pawnee-Otoe
From I Have Bowed Before the Sun

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Wintu Woman, 19th Century

“When we Indians kill meat, we eat it all up. When we dig roots, we make little holes. When we build houses, we make little holes. When we burn grass for grasshoppers, we don’t ruin things. We shake down acorns and pine nuts. We don’t chop down the trees. We only use dead wood. But the white people plow up the ground, pull down the trees, kill everything. … the White people pay no attention. …How can the spirit of the earth like the White man? … everywhere the White man has touched it, it is sore.”

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Rumi returns soon

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 until tomorrow…..

Namaste’

 

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