It’s a beautiful day here at Red Willow: clear blue skies, bright warming sun, a distinct lack of wind. We are blessed.
We are also acutely aware that however beautiful the skies may be, the day is fraught with danger and pain for too many others in too many places in the world. Ukraine occupies everyone’s consciousness at the moment, but there are so many other places at risk: Afghanistan; Iraq; Yemen; drought-ridden Chad; parts of Mexico and Central America where violence is creating whole generations of Indigenous refugees; here on closer lands, parts of Michigan and Minnesota, Nevada’s Thacker Pass, Wet’suwet’en lands in British Columbia, to name only a very few.
We pray for them all as a matter of course, because as peoples who belong to the land, we know acutely the truth that injuring one relative wounds us all. Our relatives, by the way, are not remotely limited to those we call humans; earth and sky, wind and water, fire and light, trees and flowers and medicine plants, all the four-legged and wingéd ones and all those who move upon the land or in the waters are our relatives, too.
Still, the nature of the world today forces some crises into our consciousness even as it erases others entirely. We can hold space in our minds and hearts and spirits and acts for them all, and so it is that Wings burned cedar and offered prayers yesterday for the people of Ukraine, while today we turn our efforts to eking out a donation for the first-generation American child of Hispanic immigrants who is running to unseat a particularly dangerous member of Congress. it’s less a question of walking and chewing gum at the same time than it is taking each problem as it comes and giving it the attention living in a good way requires of us.
Even though we come from two different traditions, from peoples whose lands are half a continent apart, there are so very many similarities in how we engage with our world at an essential level. We try to live by the old ways and the original teachings, no small task in a world that looks so very different from that our ancestors knew. And yet, some principles are timeless, some ways of being and some acts, as well.
Among them are prayer: for help for the world, for those in need; in thanksgiving for all that we are granted daily. There are offerings, too, tokens of value that we give to honor the spirits. Sometimes these take the form of food and drink, put outside on a plate or in a bowl for the spirits at times of celebration or ceremony. Sometimes, it’s a simpler act: a little tobacco, offered properly on behalf of the subject of our prayer.
By that last, I don’t mean to imply that it’s reduced to anything so crass and commercial as an attempted exchange: giving an offering in hopes of getting something personal in return. It’s not transactional. An example of how we often participate in this practice has to do with the world around us. In this time of drought, we make an offering for the water as we pray for rain to refill the lakes and rivers; make one for the earth, too, as we seek her healing. This particular example is not intercessionary in the way that Christianity understands the term; instead, it simply requires us to center needs beyond, outside of, and/or greater than our own.
It’s a healthy way to live.
Today’s featured work embodies this practice and the tools thereof — created to honor one of the sacred medicines, and frankly, at this season, it seems to embody the Great River itself, touched by the light of the sun and in need of our offerings, and our prayers, now more than ever. From its description in the relevant section of the Bracelets Gallery here on the site:
Tobacco Coil Bracelet
The spirit of generosity compels us to offer a gift when we seek a favor; it shows respect. It’s customary, when seeking the blessing of the spirits or the assistance of our fellow man or woman, especially an elder, to offer a small gift in the form of tobacco. It shows respect and gratitude, and assures the recipient that his or her assistance is not taken for granted. in our cultures, indigenous tobacco is its own plant, or mix of plants, and Wings summons their spirits with this coil bracelet in the colors of the plants themselves. Dark green fluorite nuggets, as deep in hue as raw emeralds, trace the center of the spiral; to either side, crystalline nuggets of bright lime green peridot, the color of the new plant, stretch outward; and at either end, the strand terminates in tiny green turquoise chips. Each segment of gems is separated by a short length of brilliant amber that glows like the lit bowl of a ceremonial pipe. Beads are strung on memory wire, which expands and contracts to fit nearly and size wrist. Jointly designed by Wings and Aji.
Memory wire; green fluorite; peridot; green turquoise; amber
$325 + shipping, handling, and insurance
There is a caveat to the description of this strand of gems. The dark green nuggets with just a hint of blue beneath? Those were identified as green fluorite, but that appears to be incorrect. Even fluorite rough has a translucence not present here, and lot more incidence of paler shades. These look like nothing so much as raw emeralds like those mined in parts of what is now known generally as South America — more Indigenous lands at risk. They have the same marbling, the same opacity, the same undercurrents of teal blue found in such material, and I suspect that is what they really are. But given the sellers identification and actual provenance at several removes, there’s no way for me to guarantee their identity either way.
In this piece, though, their identity in the sense of gemstone label provided by colonial authorities is very much secondary to the spirit that animates them, and the piece as a whole. It’s a work of gratitude, one to remind us always to be thankful, to share the gifts we are given as widely as possible, and to invest our efforts in helping those relatives who need it: all relatives, people, animals trees, earth, air, waters.
At this moment in the season, what helps the water helps the land. And with planting season, should we granted one this year, right around the corner, water rightly preoccupies our thoughts now. And so while we pray for the people of Ukraine (and other lands), while we create a refuge for the wild migratory and other beings that travel through this place, while we work to heal the land and cultivate its medicine, we also set aside a little traditional tobacco to make an offering for the water.
It’s the First Medicine, the one that births and heals us all.
~ Aji
All content, including photos and text, are copyright Wings and Aji, 2022; all rights reserved. Nothing herein may used or reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the owner.
