I have never born false witness. My relationships with those things that others cannot see are my devotion and I can’t lie to them or about them. And where they weave me into the physical world–either through the power of prayer or an ‘accidental’ meeting–it is always outside the boundaries of ‘our way’ but directly connected to it.
A beautiful soul said to me early this week: “Well, that doesn’t happen in our tradition.” To which I replied, “There’s much that many traditions have held true which has never been true. In many traditions the truth has been withheld as a way to hold power over people or it was been twisted to do the same.”
There is a reason specific cultural archetypes and beings are crossing previously held boundaries to engage with me or tell others to tell me to ‘get on with it!’; there’s a reason I resanctify ground, why those held as the holiest by many choose to actively engage with me or offer me protection as I walk this way. It doesn’t take much of a stretch of imagination to understand why and sometimes it takes an active stretch of the heart and arms to welcome this One into ‘our way’.
When Ancestors weave me into the lives of particular people, it’s often confusing to those at the other end of the thread.
They can’t see past the color of my skin, won’t believe that what has been foretold in their own history could live in this bag of skin. Or, sometimes, the belief in prophecy or answered prayers generates more fear than openness to the exploration of why Grandmothers and Grandfathers and those who inspired Creation stories would bring us together in such a magical fashion.
What you see with your eyes isn’t what you get with me. This is more than skin deep, this is connected to the heart of the matter, many hearts of the matter.