Choices

I woke up today with a pain in my neck, I have had it for a couple of months. I lay in bed thinking back over the past days and weeks, trying to pinpoint how I might have caused the pain. 

I look at pain differently now. I used to pop an Advil or an Excedrin, and write it off as the cost of living. I would go to the doctor and rely on his diagnosis and treatment. 

When life was getting me down and I was blaming everyone else for my problems I had pain more often. Physical and emotional pain.

I got to a point where I was unable to find relief for the pains that I experienced. This was around the time that I was shouting at God in the field to make life better for me.

I was introduced to a book by a wise friend who told me that it was helping her to solve her pains. I was ready for that book, I was tired of hurting. I began to read, it was an approach that I hadn’t thought of before. It was not western medicine, but came from a holistic way of looking at myself.

The book is called, “Feelings Buried Alive Never Die...” The author is Karol K. Truman. I didn’t like what I read. Pain and disease comes from my self? I wasn’t ready to hear that. 

More Excedrin. 

The problem with Excedrin is that it works for a while and then it doesn’t. I was taking 6 or 8 at a time to get rid of my headaches and it wasn’t working any more. 

Living in rural Kansas before internet access, I would go to the library and use their computers. While reading about pain and headaches, I came across an article about rebound headaches and possible causes. It told me that Excedrin has caused headaches and you should avoid regular use. Hmm?

That article was linked to another and another until I came across one called Western Medicine. As I read I was amazed to learn the origins and the treatments. Western Medicine was modeled after the German Model of Health.  What is that? It has taken me through many books to understand more about our mode of Western Medicine. Western Medicine developed out of the experimentation in Nazi Germany and the concentration camps. Drugs, Pharmaceuticals, torture, and death. It was not easy reading. Our government promised amnesty to those Doctors who would share the results of their work. They were offered new lives and brought to America.

Some of their treatments work, at least for a while.  Many of our doctors are now the modern distributers of legal drugs. Drug Pushers. When the evening news airs each day, you can be assured that it will be brought to you by the latest drugs and endorsed by doctors who are waiting for you to ask them about getting those new drugs.

A Few years ago a book was being promoted on TV, one of those infomercials that lasts for 30 minutes. I watched those 30 captivating minutes and then ordered the book. Kevin Trudeau, Natural Cures “THEY” Don’t want you to know About. 

If you tell me not to do something, you can be assured that I am going to find out more about what you don’t want me to know. Kevin Trudeau tells about age old methods that have been used to cure disease and cancer. He names items that cause sickness, items that most of us use every day.

I have used these two books to help me find answers when I have pain. They are a starting place for me to find clues for my own self-treatment. Whether that pain is internal or external, I can usually find the cause and most often that cause is me. 

It is not always easy to look at myself as being the cause of my problems, but I have found that to find a cure for my dis-ease, I must find the reason for it from within myself. I can choose to treat the symptoms or I can choose to treat the cause.

Western Medicine has its place. There are amazing advances being made by honest and integral doctors. 

I have a doctor client who has hired me to do work in his home. He is a family doctor, he likes to run and bike and competes in marathons. I asked him about the drugs and his treatments. He told me that when he offers alternative treatment options for patients, that many turn him down. They would rather have a drug to treat a symptom, than to make the effort to change their life style or diet. He has to prescribe the only option left. Drugs.

I looked up neck pain in my books, it is a place for me to start looking for answers, internal answers. 

“Moving under pressure” - Hmm, maybe ...

“Want to let feelings out but don’t dare” - Hmm, I working on that ...

“Inflexible state of mind” - Hmm, I hope I have dealt with that ...

“Not wanting to yield to opinions you think are wrong” - Hmm, probably ...

“Non-acceptance and rejection of others” - Hmm, a childhood fear ...

Possible treatments - 

Look within ................Hmm?

Or - 

Treat the outer - with

Peppermint

DMSO

Basil

Wintergreen

Helichrysum

Massage Therapy

Chiropractor

The choice is always up to us. 

Do I want to treat the real cause or medicate the symptom? 

Today I will look within, to make sure I have done all that I can from the internal part of myself. Then I will use some peppermint oil with a percussion massager. When my massage therapist reads this, she will know that I will soon be calling for another hands on treatment. Sometimes it is necessary to have someone give a helping hand to discover the cause of our symptoms. 

Carpets and outhouses

I live in a pioneer house built by my great, great, grandfather, Joseph Spencer. It was built around 1880 and was one of the first here in this area. There is much history in this old house. Many memories, not only of mine but so many others. There have been several additions added on over the years. Additions to accommodate the needs of my ancestors. The last one I think is the most important. Sometime around 1940 water was furnished to the homes here and indoor plumbing was added. Thank God for progress. Thanks to the foresight and needs of a changing society I can sit in comfort and enjoy a hot shower.

I look at all the changes and improvements that have been made in my home over the years and I can appreciate all of them. I have been in the building trade now for over 40 years. I have been able to update and improve other homes and I have enjoyed that creative part of me. I am mostly retired now, but now and again I do a project for someone. I can do most anything, but I have my favorites. Plumbing is not one of them, especially if it has to do with the sewer. Yecch.

I have looked at some of the projects that I would like to do here, some are easy and some would be a major undertaking. The adobe walls are mostly intact or hidden under layers of wall paper. I discovered that when cracks appeared in the walls or ceiling that they were often repaired with cotton cloth soaked in flour paste. Simple but effective. I have thought about stripping the walls down to the original surface but in doing so, I would remove the character of this old home. I was asked by my cousin if the hammer shaped crack was still on my ceiling in the bedroom. It is. I am hoping that the whole ceiling doesn’t fall on me one night. Then again, I do have the ancient secret family recipe for repair of an old home like mine. Cotton cloth soaked in flour paste.

I look at the carpet and marvel that it is almost as old as I am. It was installed sometime in the 50’s. It is in amazing shape considering it is so old. Kind of like me. When my grandparents had the carpet installed, they paid for the best they could afford. Wool. It has held up well and 5 generations of family have learned to love the charm that this old carpet adds. Many of the original items that have disappeared over the years. Some to this family and some to another. With each disappearing item, a little bit of the charm is lost. I am in the process of recovering some of the original pieces. My mother has me on her “list” to inherit some furniture that was built by my great, great, grandfather. I just received  some original photos that belonged to some of my ancestors. I plan to post these on a family site. Why is it that ownership of original family history is so important to some? Most often they end up in drawers forgotten. I say share the family photos and the family secrets. This is the real wisdom of the departed. Lets learn from the mistakes as well as the accomplishments of those who came before us.

I have been grateful to be in my old home. It is comfortable, like a well worn pair of shoes. It is very forgiving and needs little care. Still some changes are good, like the indoor plumbing. I don’t miss that old outhouse, I did use it when the modern one in the house was busy, but it is now gone. I can still visit it if I want. It is now in my neighbors orchard. They got half of the property when my grandparents died. My Aunt and Uncle have been good neighbors and we share and help one another. The fence, well that is still a tender subject. We talk almost every day and laugh and share tools.

My old wool carpet? It stays for now. Many, many memories in that old carpet. 

Jesus rides a Harley

Just a few weeks after I married Pearlene in 1994, I happened to be in a video store looking for a movie to rent. I was in the action movies looking for something to watch and she was in the romance section looking for old classics. I didn’t pay close attention when the bikers came in the store, they were browsing through the selections of movies. They were wearing leather and looked a bit intimidating.

My marriage to Pearlene was magical. We connected on every level. She was living life from her heart and was in tune with all of life.

There was an earlier time in my life when I was not in tune with life. It was 1974. I was 21, single and riding my motorcycle down west center in Provo Utah. My brother and friend had gone to the Yamaha showroom with me a few days earlier to look at the new models. They were there to help me choose a motorcycle.  All three of us ended up buying motorcycles.  We were riding those bright yellow motorcycles toward the lake on this day. I was riding without a helmet and probably speeding. I heard the siren from behind me, I looked back and saw a Provo cop with his lights on. He pulled over my friend and motioned for him to stay on the side of the road. He next came after my brother who was behind me, I saw my brother pull off the road and then he sped towards me. From half a mile back, I watched my friend turn around and head towards the city. The cop saw it too and he turned around and took off after him. My brother and I headed towards the lake, we made our way back through town and were near the state mental hospital when I heard the siren again, it was the same cop. Our bright yellow motorcycles stood out on the road and he was still mad from loosing us earlier near the lake. It cost me a ticket and a traffic safety course. 

When Pearlene came to the counter with her movie, she waited for me to bring my choice, I thought she looked different. We compared movies and decided on her choice instead of mine. We sat in the truck for a minute in silence. I asked her why she was so quiet. She said, did you see the motorcycle riders? I said that I had. She said, did you see the guy with long hair? I told her no, I had been busy looking at the movies. She told me when she first saw them, she began to judge them because of their long hair and clothing. One man with piercing eyes turned and looked at her. In those few seconds that she looked into his eyes she felt a spiritual lightening within her. Her spirit recognized his spirit. It was the same long hair, the same piercing eyes ... but this time his clothing was different. 

We sat in silence for several minutes as the impact of that event sunk in. Our eyes welled up with tears and we held hands. A miracle happened ...

There are many who walk among us, who pass by and give us a smile or pause to look into our souls. We each have guardians, angels, and guides who help us every day. We don’t notice them most of the time. We take it for granted when an accident is avoided because we missed the light, or the driver just ahead gets hit in the intersection ... Our little voice reminds us that we left something unsaid to a loved one, allowing us to pause and give them a smile or a hug. We are watched over and protected each day as we drive to work or travel dangerous paths.

My motorcycle days didn’t last very long, my bike was always in the shop being repaired. It was a yellow lemon. My inner voice tried to tell me that night in the Yamaha showroom to walk out. I silenced that little voice and bought the bike anyway.  I paid for it twice with all the repairs. In the year I had it, it was in the motorcycle repair shop 6 months. I learned a lesson about listening to that little voice. It cost me four thousand dollars but it was worth it. 

That night in Fairview, Utah, I saw Jesus ride a Harley. I am careful now to not judge another because of the hair or the clothing. I listen to that little voice, I pay attention to my feelings and when someone smiles at me or looks into my eyes, I wonder ... I am still hoping to see that Harley again, I would like another chance to look into those piercing eyes and recognize my brother ...

Wait ... I am getting a bite

Wait ... I am getting a bite

I decided to go fishing today. The sun was shining and the wind was calm. Wide Hollow reservoir is only 2 miles from town and now that the weather is getting colder, the fishing is good. I saw a picture of some fish that my neighbor caught last month and it gave me a little push to try my own luck. 

When I was a boy I came to this reservoir to fish with my grandmother. She loved to fish and although my grandfather didn’t like to fish he would drive her to the lake. Grandma never learned to drive so she had to rely on my grandfather. He would drop us off in the morning and pick us up in the afternoon. She loved to fish whenever she could.  My grandmother was an optimist when it came to fishing. The slightest tightening of her fishing line always came with the comment, I am getting a bite. Sometimes it was the wind. When she wasn’t looking it was fun to wiggle her line and watch her reaction. I loved that time with her. She taught me a lot about anticipation and patience on those fishing trips.

I thought I would take my laptop today and do some writing but the fish were bitting and I wasn’t able concentrate on my thoughts so I watched the ducks on the water playing and making noises. Most were coots and they sat just off where I was fishing. I watched a hawk soar around the water looking for an easy catch. I saw some eagles last year but haven’t seen any this year. I was glad I bought a warm coat when the breeze picked up. I was going to leave but I thought I saw my line tighten and wondered if I was going to get a bite. 

I picked up that optimist trait from my grandmother. I try to look at the bright side of any situation and find the good. It has helped me to go through times when I was stuck in the moss and my line was caught on the rocks. 

I reflected on many things today as I watched my line.  There is uncertainty in the world and unease between nations. I thought about staying home instead of shopping on Black Friday, But I didn’t need anything. Last week my son suggest a present for his kids so I worked on that yesterday and got it finished. Wood Blocks, I spent half a day on that project. They will last forever, not like those toys that break on the first day or need batteries. I thought about the Christmas lights that I put up on the fence and my 2 foot tree that I put in the window. I thought about my 10 year old truck and the miles we have traveled together. We still have many more miles to go together. I thought about my blessing ceremony this spring when I placed a large crystal in this reservoir. I floated in my kayak and gave thanks for the water. I thanked Aquaria, the water element. I asked the crystal work with Aquaria to purify the water and raise the spiritual vibration of everyone in this valley.

My attention was suddenly brought back into focus when my line started to tighten. I watched as the pole began to bounce and I grabbed it and set the hook. I reeled in a 2 pound trout on the hook, I thanked him for his gift to me. A few minutes later I pulled in another fish, this one weighed one pound.

I brought 2 fish home today. I had a good day fishing. I thought how blessed I am to be in a this place. There is only a little moss in the new reservoir. 

There have been times in my life when I have been stuck in the moss and had my line hooked on the rocks. Instead of breaking my line or loosing my temper, I have been able to learn from my grandmother, remembering her patience and positive attitude.

I smile when I think of my grandmother, sitting on the bank in that little red school chair waiting for the fish to bite. I can see the dust of my grandfathers truck coming up the road and I can still hear her telling my grandfather after 4 hours of sitting on the bank, Wait ... I am getting a bite.

Ready or not ...

Ready or not ... Here I come! Those were the words that were on my mind when I woke up this morning. My mind was grasping at the last fading memories of the night. I lay in bed for a few minutes to form the thoughts that my mind was piecing together from the few fragments that I still had in focus.

I remember playing the game hide and seek when I was young. It was always fun to play day or night. One was chosen to count to 100 or more to give us all time to hide. When the count was finished came the announcement, “Ready or not, Here I come.” The next few minutes were anticipating being found out and having to run back to base. If you beat the counter and called safe, you were free to hide again the next game. If you were too slow or were laughing to hard to run, you had to do the counting and the seeking in the next game.

As I got older and married, it wasn’t long before my son was born. I enjoyed the time when he was a baby playing Peek a boo, and playing Where are you? I enjoyed it even more when we could play the game of hide and seek. To a child, a closet or a place behind the couch were good hiding places. It was easy to find him, but to a child they believe they are invisible. Make believe games were always fun. Most games turned into running and chasing after the other.

These were some of the thoughts going through my mind this morning, except that the words, “Ready or not, here I come,” were not from a game that I was playing. 

I had sold my home on Grandview hill in Provo and I was living in Manti, Utah. I had rented an old pioneer home and was trying to clean up the house and the yard to make it more livable. 

It was the spring of 1993. The weather was getting warmer and the trees and grass were beginning to grow green. 

We had a canal behind our house that carried the meltwater from Manti Canyon. I watched as the water began to flow down the canal. It wasn’t very deep, but the water was flowing very fast. Manti is built on a hill and riding my bike down the hill was always more fun than peddling back up the hill. On this day I watched some school kids jump over the canal on their way to school. I made a comment about how foolish they were to jump over the canal. It was dangerous not because of the 12 inches of water, but because of the speed of the water. I had watched these same kids jump the canal several times. The canal was about 4 feet deep and 6 feet from one side to the other.

I had just turned 40 and my wife had made me a black cake with black decorations. I was not impressed with the symbolism of black and my birthday. I decided to walk to the store and get something I needed. Walking around the block to the store only took 5 minutes, but on this day I decided to cut through the block and jump over the canal. It would save me 2 minutes. I stood at the edge of the canal and looked at the 12 inches of water, it didn’t look that bad, I said to myself. I backed up and ran at the canal. I didn’t quite make it and as I tumbled into the canal I could feel panic hit me. The fast moving water knocked me off my feet and I found my self being carried down the rock and cement canal. My thoughts turned to the stories of another accident in this canal that had drowned a man. I could see the tunnel 250 feet ahead of me. The canal went underground for several miles before coming back out on the other side of Manti. There was nothing I could do to stop myself or grab the side of the canal. I was bruised and cut and bleeding as I neared to last 25 feet. The realization that I might die was flashing in my mind. I felt myself relax and everything slowed down to me. I called out calmly, “Ready or not, Here I come.” 

This was the moment I had read about and wondered about and now, here it was. I was no longer panicked. I was calmly prepared to see what lie ahead after death. 

It was not my time to die that day. I must have had more life to live. Ten feet before going underground, the canal had formed a whirlpool where some branches had been caught on the rocks. When I entered the pool, the water slowed down and I was just able to grab onto a rock that was jutting out. I held on tightly and was able to get my feet underneath me, stand and climb out. I laid on the bank for several minutes reviewing my experience. It had all happened in less than a minute, but to me it was much longer. I was wet, bruised and bleeding when I walked back to the house. I sat for some time in silence. I didn’t say anything for several days to my wife or son. I was too embarrassed and shaken at my near death experience. 

This was the memory that was attached to my fleeting memories this morning when the words, “Ready or not, Here I come,” were fading away.

Sometimes accidents or foolish actions bring us close to death. We can choose to look at them as a warning or refuse to address the cause and reason for the experience. I have thought about my canal experience, it has helped me to appreciate the miracle that occurred that day in Manti. I was not ready to move from this world into the next. There were many more lessons for me to learn. This is one of the reasons that I now look at my life differently. I take time to notice a new flower that is pushing up from the soil. I think about the stories that I am told from a deeper perspective and look for understanding to life’s mysteries. I am not yet ready to cross over. My bucket list is still long. 

My longtime friend came for thanksgiving. She is older than me and still lives in Manti. After catching up on the news, we sat and enjoyed a movie or two. We talked about the books that we were reading and how many eggs we were getting each day from the chickens. When the conversation paused, I ask her a question. 

Are you prepared to die? 

Have you done everything that you want to do? Without hesitation she said, I am ready to die. I have done everything. I have had a full life. I miss my husband who died nearly 20 years ago, I miss my young son who drowned at age 12. I miss my son who died just a few years ago. I am ready to go whenever I am called home. As they drove away, I felt gratitude to have this precious time with a good friend. The memories are warm and filled with a gratitude for knowing her. I will miss her if she should happen to die. She has made my life better and this world a better place by  being here.

I wonder about my time here. How many more years I may be here. I don’t know the answer to that question. Long enough to finish my bucket list, I hope.The list is getting longer not shorter.

The words, “Ready or not, Here I come,” still echo in my heart. I was not ready that day in Manti. I am still not ready. There are many more miles to go before I rest ...

System Busters

System Busters

Why is it that we spend so much of our time in the pursuit of things that are temporary? I have been looking at my life and the lives of others around me to get answers. 

I spent half of my life following a flawed system of following someone else’s dream. 

  As a child my parents sent me to school each day. I would spend 6 to 8 hours learning how to compete in their world. I was tested and graded and compared to others who were following the same guidance. I went through this schooling process, pursuing the ambitions and learning rules set up by other people. I didn’t know any better, it was the only option offered to me.

Who chooses these required courses? The board of education? Our parents? The government? Corporate business? Churches? Why are there so many required courses and so few elective choices? Who decides what is important? Have these schools been successful at preparing children for life’s challenges? I was unable to satisfy my own questions.

Why then, do we place so much importance on what other people think? Why do we need the approval of our family, friends or society to determine our own happiness?

I am a systems buster. It is a term that I adopted a few years ago that describes me and my life. I am naturally contrary. If you ask me to do something, I will look at the reasons you want me to do it, then decide if I am going to do it. If I can find a better way to accomplish the task, I will do it my way. 

I spent 12 years in school learning someone else’s rules. I have spent most of the last 40 years discovering that those rules are flawed and broken. 

My real education began when I started thinking for myself. I found that my early education was lacking in the most important areas. Who am I? Why am I here? How do I find the answers to life’s questions? What is my life’s purpose?

Native Americans have a different way of looking at life. The elders of the tribe are the teachers. They are the Wisdom teachers who have the knowledge, skills, and understanding, to pass on these abilities to the next generation. They answer questions and teach life skills to children knowing that it will have far reaching effects on the future generations to come. When a young boy or girl approaches adolescence they are encouraged to prepare for a vision quest. This is an important part of discovering what they will do in life. A period of fasting and prayer, combined with sweats is used to connect that child with the spirit world. It is during this rite of passage that a child discovers the path that they will follow for the rest of their life. Natural skills and abilities are encouraged and developed. Education consists of helping each child follow their own path. 

If you ask me when I was a child, what I wanted out of life, my answer would have been, “I want what my parents and teachers want for me.”

If you ask me now what I want out of life, my answer would be, “I want to follow my own heart.”

  I am a danger to these old systems when I speak my heart.

The old ways are crumbling. The pursuit of money, power, and control, are the old, broken, and flawed ways. I have friends and associates who have worked their entire career to build a nest egg for the future, while predators in these old systems are robbing eggs out of their nest. Why are we so consumed in the fear of not having enough? It is time to enjoy the labors of our hard work. Stop looking for answers outside of yourself.

I am not alone in my beliefs. There are many systems busters. Each day I read from the web, the wisdom of these teachers and elders.  I am encouraged by the numbers of people who are discovering their real purpose in life and are using those skills in helping themselves and others. The old ways are rapidly disintegrating. The false systems of education have failed to teach the important life skills that we need. People are not only protesting the abuse of wall street, but are protesting the old and broken ways of education, religion, society, and government. They are angry at all the lies they have been told. 

The wisdom of these fools have failed us and it is time for change. 

I can feel the changes. Many others can also feel these changes. We are rapidly moving towards a new and better life. It is like watching the last gasping efforts of a cold winter fade before the springs promise of a bright and warm sun. Spring is in the air and it is filled with the promise of new life and abundance. Our individual dreams and desires can be fulfilled. Humanity is hungering. Children are now being born with gifts, skills, and abilities that need to be nurtured and encouraged. Intuition and wisdom must be used to help these children. 

It is not too late for us. We can discover and develop our natural abilities and skills. They are still here within us. 

We must take the time to vision quest.  Prayer, fasting, solitude and going within ... these are the courses of study that will guide us in following our true natures.

There is a whole new world to discover around us, a world of our own making. We are capable of doing anything that we set our hearts upon. It is this intuitive part of ourselves that will take us into new heights of humanity. In this pursuit, we will find the lasting happiness that will guide us into our new world with values and guidelines, and happiness, that will benefit all.

Sacred Places

Today I mowed the lawn. It was sunny and almost 60 degrees and I wanted to mulch the leaves one more time. I must have looked funny out on my John Deere with shorts and sunglasses, but it felt good to be in the sun. 

10 years ago I was living in Kansas. We lived on a 400 acre farm that was mostly in natural grass. The government was paying my landlord 100 dollars an acre not to plant corn or other crops. The land was under government contract for 10 years to allow the native grasses to grow.

I was driving another lawnmower back then. It was an old riding mower that I fixed up to mow our 2 acres of grass. I enjoyed riding that mower each week and had a system for mowing. We had a large tree that held our bench swing. When I got close to the tree, I would push the swing out of the way and then hurry around the tree before the swing came back and hit me. One month during my busy time, I had a project that made it hard for me to mow the lawn. Pearlene wanted to help me out so she mowed for me. She had watched me mow around the tree and thought she could do the same thing. She gave the swing a push and hurried around, but when she came around again, the swing hit the mower and caught the back fender, it raised up the mower and bucked her off. She wasn’t hurt, but there was a problem with that old mower, the safety switch on the seat wasn’t working. Pearlene watched as that mower took off down the grassy hill mowing a path with no one driving. She was able to catch the mower before going into the ditch, but I decided after that, we needed to buy a new mower to be safe.

Summer in Kansas was beautiful. The days were warm and the wildlife was everywhere. We had hills and streams and fishing ponds and chiggers. Chiggers are one the things that we didn’t like. They are tiny 6 legged microscopic insects that bite and wait on tall grass to attach themselves to any thing that has blood to feed on. They usually go to the warm moist places on your body to dig in and can cause a lot of discomfort where the sun doesn’t shine.

We loved to walk the land but with the chiggers waiting for a meal, it was not very pleasant. I got the great idea to mow a path around the land, so I scouted out a path and took my riding mower out for a trek in the native grass. It ended up being a 2 mile path and each week I would mow the path with my regular mowing. It took me most of a day. I didn’t care because I found the mowing enjoyable and relaxing. 

One week as I was mowing I noticed a circular patch of grass that was different. I got off the mower and investigated. It was nearly 100 feet across, on the top of the highest hill. While standing in the middle of the circle had another idea. I went back to the house and got a roll of string and a stake. I went back to the patch of grass and laid out a circle, within a circle, within a circle. It took me about an hour. I used the mower and mowed the wheel in the grass. When I was finished mowing I was amazed at the sight.

I brought Pearlene out and showed her what I had done. We had studied Native American Medicine Wheels and felt this would be a good place to construct one. We knew that there were other items we needed and looked around the area until we found them. We located a black, yellow, red, and white rock to mark the 4 directions. I found a pole to place in the middle then took 4 smaller poles and attached colored material to match the colors of the rock at the 4 directions. There were other items that we placed to represent elements of fire, water, earth, and air. The medicine wheel also represents the 4 stages of life. Childhood, adolescence, adulthood, and elders. We spent many sunsets there on our medicine wheel. 

Our friend John, asked if he and his wife could use the medicine wheel to pray. We said yes. When He got back to the house he told us what happened to him there on the hill. He said that as they were meditating, some figures materialized, they looked Native American to him. They didn’t seem to care that John was there and looked like they were involved in some kind of ceremony. John said he didn’t feel frightened or concerned for his safety and then watched them disappear from the hill.

I have thought about that place many times over the years and I have wondered about those that lived before me on that land. 

Did I rediscover an ancient location of a medicine wheel? Did these visitors simply recognize a sacred place to do ceremony? I was humbled that they would visit this hill. 

I found many other sacred sites in that area. I traveled with others who were searching for the sacred and we were led to places like Vesta, Nebraska and Adam-On-Diahman, Missouri. The mounds of Cahokia, Illinois was another special place we visited on several occasions. The caves of Missouri held a special place of reverence. Hundreds of years ago the Pawnee Indians used the stars to lay out their villages, they recorded these star charts on an elk hide. We found one of these old village sites, it was marked by a giant silver maple tree. It took 5 people holding hands to go around it. An eagle also used that tree for its nest. It was a very special place where we discovered some answers and truths about ourselves.

There are many sacred sites around the world that are used by people, past and present. When you are near them, you can feel the special feelings. Some of these sacred places are on hills, or near springs, sometimes they are in a valley. Trees can mark these places. 

I pay attention to the feelings that I have when I am in a new place or traveling old places. I am always grateful to be in these sacred places. 

There are times when I need to find answers to my questions. Sometimes I go to the mountain tops to contemplate in the quiet of nature. It is in these places that I am able to connect.

I used to go to the temples and chapels of man to find God. I found him there, but there was often a price to pay for using those places of worship.

One day I was praying in the woods. I looked around me, making sure I was alone. I often pray out-loud and on this day I was sitting. I had my eyes closed and was pouring out my heart and soul. I heard a noise and opened my eyes.  5 feet in front of me was a skunk who was sitting too. He was watching me. I lost the moment and jumped up and ran back some distance. I laughed at myself and wondered if the skunk was laughing too. 

I have found many sacred places in my life. Some were man made, some were natural places and some were the creations of my own hands. 

Going within my own heart and mind has been the most sacred of all. It has been in this sacred space where I have felt the most peace. In this inner place of peace I have been able to face the challenges and find the courage to blaze new trails in my walk through life.