The moon last night was pink, the color of pale rose quartz — or perhaps the pale pink alabaster so beloved of our Native carvers here. Veiled in light high clouds and edged in a corona that gave her her own shimmering halo, our grandmother’s face seemed still full, despite being two days into her waning phase.
For much of the dominant culture, yesterday was Maundy Thursday, a night to commemorate the Last Supper . . . and the story of betrayal that follows inexorably in its wake. More recent scholarship suggests that the story as traditionally recounted errs, particularly in describing intent; still, the story as it comes down to the world now carries with it its own narrative value (and value narrative). Today, of course, is one of the holiest — and most tragic — days of the Christian calendar, one of not merely betrayal but the greatest of sacrifices, of unutterable pain and grief and loss.
It is not our day, nor our story, but we understand the feelings that underlie it all too well.
What has grown out of this story, however, for the dominant culture, is a narrative and an identity that focuses on sacrifice by some, on pain and suffering and self-abnegation in the service of specific authorities. In the way that it has shaped that culture, the one outside of our communities that nevertheless requires our participation, it is a colonial and colonizing system of belief.
Our own ways understand power relationships differently.
For us, there is respect for authority, yes, at least up to a point; it is perhaps more accurate to say that we honor power, and experience, and wisdom (and you will notice that I refer to power as distinct from authority). Our belief systems often honor, and sometimes require, sacrifice, and it is true that sacrifice often carries pain with it and even suffering — but pain is not the end in itself, not some puritanical moral lesson to extract obedience or subservience. Rather, pain is something that, in the traditional way, may be healed.
I sometimes think that, for us, at least, our entire understanding of the spirits, of our world and our place within it, may be reduced to two words: Medicine; and healing.
Oh, there are so very many other concepts that are a part of our collective worldviews, from strength to courage to harmony; in our relationship with the dominant culture, resistance, defense, and even a more assertive warrior heart. But in the way in which such concepts are understood from our perspective, there is a very real sense in which they all may be brought under, and within, the rubric of healing . . . of Medicine. It is impossible to live bravely, to defend others against harm, without incurring at least the occasional injury; it is likewise impossible to live in balance, in harmony with our world, if our bodies or spirits are damaged. We draw power, strength, courage, inspiration from the world around us, from the spirits and beings that inhabit our cosmologies, and we do so in the service of living the sort of harmonious existence, of going well through life, that was given to our ancestors in the time before time and handed down to us through the generations.
We have used this space, in recent weeks, to look at the spirits of the world around us upon which we draw to live according to such virtues: earth, air, fire, water; the winds and the storm and the sacred directions; the medicinal plants and our cousins the animals. This week, we have focused much on the moon, she who we call Grandmother, the one whose light is a guide in the darkest hours. But there are other kinds of dark hours, too, and other guides — those who protect and those who heal, and today’s featured work is one such, one who manifests in the color of last night’s pale rose moon. From its description in the Other Artists: Fetishes gallery here on the site:
This classic little Southwestern-style hump-backed bear is rendered in pink alabaster by Ned Archuleta (Taos Pueblo). The bear’s clean, spare lines allow the cool beauty of the stone’s matrix to take center stage. His only accent is a tiny offering bundle of colorful parakeet feathers, tied on with sinew. Three inches long, he stands 1-7/8″ high (dimensions approximate). Another view is shown at top.
Pink alabaster; feathers; sinew
$75 + shipping, handling, and insurance
I’ve written here many times about the role of Bear in many indigenous cultures, so often functioning as protector, healer, or both. This one is a medicine bear, one who carries an offering bundle — a symbol simultaneously of supplication and of sacrifice, one suited to the feel of this season from without our cultures, and to our own prayers for months of warmth and abundance from within.
As we head into one tradition’s holiest weekend, a tradition nonindigenous to this land but dominant nonetheless, one in which many members of our own peoples participate, the world looks for signs of new life. In the process, we would do well to seek renewing power of Medicine, as well.
~ Aji
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