Yesterday, we were privileged to stop alongside one of this land’s great watersheds and bear witness to its journey: the roiling, racing, tumbling path of the waters of the Rio Grande. It was a near-flawless day, the sky overhead a perfect shade of turquoise, the waters less blue than silver beneath the touch of the light.
It was the sort of event that reminds us, in the small and limited way that we mortals are able to perceive, just what gifts this world holds, what blessings the cosmos chooses to offer us.
In our way, it is customary to give thanks for such gifts.
But in our way, thanksgiving is more than a word, or even a few words uttered as prayer and prophylactic: Giving thanks requires of us action, a concrete showing of acknowledgment and appreciation, and an equally tangible passing on of the gift in aid of others.
It is an obligation, yes, but not a burden.
The outside world is fond, today, of the expression “paying it forward”: When one receives a gift or a blessing, one should in turn provide similar aid to someone else. Some refine the meaning further to obviate the need to pay back, as in repayment of a loan, emphasizing the volitional nature of attaching further responsibility to acceptance of a gift.
Such concepts find a place in our own ways, if expressed in older forms. But there is one aspect missing from its calculus that, for many of our cultures, at least, is absolutely essential to the etiquette of receiving, accepting, keeping, using a gift. It’s equally integral to our way of understanding the obligations of gratitude and giving thanks.
It’s the making of an offering.
Wings and I make our offerings daily, a gift to the spirits of a small amount of tobacco. It is so deeply ingrained in our ways as to be almost matter-of-fact, although there is nothing casual or cavalier about its performance. Rather, it’s simply one of the obligations of daily living, something that is inextricably bound up with prayer, practice, and praxis, something that is braided into the very fabric of our existence.
There is a way in which an offering is a token, and yet that word seems inapplicable, diminishing and dismissive. But in our relations with the spirits, inhabitants of other worlds beyond our reach and possessed of power that far exceeds our own, any offering is necessarily a token. It’s not as though they need our bit of tobacco, or pinch of pollen, or tendril of cedar smoke to go about their business. The purpose of making the offering is not, at bottom, for them; it is for us, a reminder not merely to show gratitude, but to be grateful.
For there is power in gratitude . . . and perspective also. A grateful spirit is a grounded one, one joined to a body and mind and heart that is better able to face the world as it is, and to chart a path accordingly: This sort of practical perspective on the world and our place in it is what helps us to know when to accept, and when to resist; when to sit down in humility, and when to stand up in courage and strength. All are required of us at various points throughout our lives, but the wise person is the one who recognizes when to engage in each for the benefit of all.
It is this way of life that inspired what I consider perhaps Wings’s greatest work to date: a concha belt comprising old and new, one infused with the very spirit of a traditional indigenous offering. From its description in the Belts Gallery here on the site:
Offering Concha Belt
Sometimes, a piece comes together in ways even the artist doesn’t anticipate, a symbolizing of the sacred that is greater than the sum of its parts. This concha belt is one such work. One dozen sterling silver conchas, rectangular in shape and lightly domed in repoussé fashion, are meticulously hand-stamped in an old traditional pattern: symbols that function simultaneously as representations of mountain peaks and as lodges, a protective medicine pattern that evokes the power of the mountains sacred to this place. Each sits around a hand-scored rectangle, in the center of which is a four-petaled blossom of very old natural hand-cut cabochons of Bisbee turquoise, representing the Four Sacred Directions. The edges of each concha are filled with tiny sacred hoops, each struck individually, representing the rain and water as life. The larger rectangular buckle is edged in an alternating positive/negative pattern of matched thunderhead symbols that, point down, represent the rain; point up, they embody the steps to the sacred space. The buckle repeats the same hand-stamped pattern of sacred hoops to fill the spaces to the edge; it also features a single larger rectangular cabochon of old Bisbee turquoise, deep blue with a gloriously bold pyrite matrix flashing hints of red. Instead of the usual sawdust, every stone is seated in a bezel filled with Native tobacco as an expression of thanks for that which is sacred: a permanent offering for every piece of silver and stone on the belt, and a permanent blessing for the wearer. All thirteen pieces are strung on a hand-made black leather belt stamped in a repeating buffalo pattern. Belt length is 46.5″; each concha is 2-1/16″ long by 1-9/16″ high; buckle is 2.75″ long by 2″ high; buckle’s center stone is .75″ long by .5″ high (all dimensions approximate). Other views shown above and at the link.
Sterling silver; old Bisbee turquoise; black leather
$4,500 + shipping, handling, and insurance
Note: Size, weight, and value require special handling; extra shipping charges apply
We remain in the throes of a season whose sole purpose, at times, seems to be to humble us: to remind us that we command neither water nor sky, neither earth nor wind; that we are most certainly at the mercy of the storm. It is less purposeful than that, true, for the most part; climate and weather and wind and season will do as they will, irrespective of our wants, but also mostly without noticing our existence. And yet, our actions have had a tangible impact upon them, so much so, in fact, as to be irrecoverable in some respects.
But giving thanks for what is, for what we have been granted and given, reminds us of our place in the world, regardless of the season’s elemental powers. And acting upon that sense of gratitude, not only by making an offering in our daily lives but by making an offering of our daily lives?
That is what enables us to survive storm and season.
~ Aji
All content, including photos and text, are copyright Wings and Aji, 2017; all rights reserved. Nothing herein may used or reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the owners.
