Fishing the River
The land is like poetry: it is inexplicably coherent, it is transcendent in its meaning, and it has the power to elevate a consideration of human life.
— Barry Lopez
Anyone who has spent time in the desert, watching and listening, has felt the sense of depth and presence that defies the initial barren glance. I have taken many road trips to the New Mexico desert, and what follows is a true story of one I took years ago, headed toward Ghost Ranch.
Fishing the River
I am almost to the New Mexico border where the sign says, in big red letters, "You Are Leaving Colorado." Further down the road there's a second sign: “Welcome to New Mexico, The Land of Enchantment.” I have always wondered about that place between the two signs. It is some kind of demios oneiron, a village of dreams, that does not exist on any map.
Highway 17 is a rural mountain road circling above the Chama River. I have traveled it countless times on my way to teach at Ghost Ranch (named by the Spanish as a place of witches, “Ranchos de los Brujos”). This route is marked by reminders of our mortality. Rural New Mexican byways are decorated with descansos, a pastoral cross with flowers, honoring the resting place of one who has died on the road. Often I have stopped when seeing an old cemetery guarded by iron gates and filled with plastic roses and small figurines of the Virgin Mary. The gravestones have old writing and engravings of crosses, of which I have made many rubbings. New Mexican graveyards are distinct — flavored with Native American and Mexican roots. Mary is represented as the Virgin of Guadalupe, "a woman clothed with the sun, and the moon under her feet, and upon her head a crown of twelve stars." There are many stories of The Virgin of Guadalupe, going back to the 1500’s. She symbolizes the bridge between heaven and earth.
To make a tax-deductible donation to the Mabel Dodge Luhan Retreat, click here.
"Only in our doing can we grasp you" — Rilke
Only in our doing can we grasp you, only with our hands can we illumine you….
The first line of Rilke’s poem speaks to makers of all kinds, and how our hands can bring us back when we feel off center. Sometimes the hardest question to answer is What do I do? Or to ask yourself, listening deeply, What do I need? As they say in the old world, the veil is thinner now, Covid time reveals with urgency the gravity of the imperative to listen to your inner voice, to your calling. And to be aware, each day, of what you need. What do you need?
Odysseus’s journey was said to take 20 years to indicate it was long. For many, Covid time has shifted from something that felt more spacious, and had some security built in for the unemployed, to a feeling of long, and how can I get through?
The mind is but a visitor, it takes us out of our world…
There are so many distractions with news and this turning world, but often the biggest distraction is one’s own mind, the visitor. That visitor needs to be quiet for awhile, and let the soul emerge. Your gift has already been given. What you are waiting for has already begun. I was listening to an interview with Jordi Savall, a beloved musician, and the interviewer asked him, how did you get interested in ancient music? Jordi replied by saying that this is a misunderstanding, there is no ancient music. There are ancient manuscripts, but the music is just sleeping inside you. Take out your instrument. Begin playing and the song awakens inside you — made new.
Find a place you trust
I am reconsidering this theme of finding a place you trust. This idea is needed more now, during the uncertainty and loss we all find ourselves in. Suddenly, as quick as lightning, a dear friend is gone.
Sister Corita’s first rule for her students was find a place you trust and try trusting it for awhile.
I cannot improve on this as a place to begin. When fear arises, as it does in the face of change and unpredictability, what do you do? Anxiety is a natural and universally human response, and can even be an aid to taking action. Yet we need to prevent anxiety from taking over. Everyone has gone through narrow passages, and the one we are in now is world wide. Everyone has the possibility of choosing courage over fear. With the courage it takes to traverse difficulty, something good inevitably comes. You muster the nerve to navigate the narrow passage, in spite of your fear and anxiety. Looking back at my life, I can see that when I was able to do this, coming through that door offered its own reward. Taking the risk to choose courage cultivates a trust in life, a resiliency that abides in the bigger picture, and the awareness of other forces at work.
This attitude translates to being a creator…