Knowing vs. knowledge

Today again there were two distinct thoughts, although one came during  - I am uncomfortable with the terminology - ceremony, ritual, prayer, process - nothing fits, exactly, it is as though I am being led by the hand, or by the heart through, well, not through darkness exactly, but through a mist, and again, I know that it is going to be alright, even if that means that my definition of alright has to change again.

I've been considering that.  I've been fortunate for a number of years now, and life comes in cycles of feast and famine.  I have not had much, but I have had enough, and I need to be prepared for that to change.

So, first it was more difficult this time to clear my head, to let the sweetgrass burn, to think, and when I finally got there, I felt the  moment of peace, and that opportunity for connection.  It  opened up this ongoing dialogue that I have been having about the dichotomy between western thought, and knowledge, and this, whatever it is, that is happening here.  Just opened the door.

Then I closed with cedar, and what came out was thanks for having a body that works so well, which was surprising.  I do not feel as if it does most of the time, so it was a bit of a shock, but somehow that needed to be said, so I left it.

Later, driving into town, the first thought came to the fore again, and there has always been a part of me that knows when things "are right."  It doesn't make sense, and often goes against logical sense, goes against reason, practicality, planning, and common sense.  Sometimes there are things which need to get done despite the fact that there isn't time to do them, sometimes they need to get done, despite the fact that it seems as if there are not resources to do them.

Generally I can tell the difference between real things, and procrastination, bad reasons, stalling, fear, shame, hurt, and other things.  I don't always listen, but it is usually clear.  Burning sweetgrass has been helping me to listen.

What does this mean?

I don't know if I want to be a person from the 7th fire. I don't know if I am.  I am afraid. Of knowing. Of not knowing. Of things being real. Of things being my overactive imagination.

This morning I burned sweetgrass.

Two very strong thoughtways with it.

First, I had a little round carved wooden box Granny brought back from Hawai'i for me.  I used to burn incense in it, and use it to meditate.  It was ?before boarding school? So I was 13 or 14.  My mom found it and threw it out, as it was a) a fire hazard, and b) evil. 

The first Elder who taught me how to burn sweetgrass, and sage, L. - and how grateful I am for having that knowledge now.

I know this isn't my tradition.  The thing is, I don't have a spiritual tradition.  Estonian folk beliefs got lost. I don't know what the Indigenous beliefs are from the other side of my family. I know that the family was christian. That saddens me.

I am looking for meaning in dreams, in burning sweetgrass, in thoughts and prayer. It isn't something that makes sense to me, but it is something that "feels right". 

I can't understand this change in myself. It's so nebulous.

I read recently about Native students feeling a need to "leave their Indian selves outside" when going to school.  They were talking about the discrepancy between dispassionate knowledge, and personal knowing.

It really touched something in me.  Western knowledge has this deification of the impersonal observer, and the epistemology centers around distancing oneself from the knowledge.

Brain knowing, heart knowing.

this is interfering with my school. I had better get back to work.

This is valid work.

Clearing out the cobwebs

So, I need to empty out my head. Put things down somewhere so that I can get to work on funding. My brain is full of ideas and thoughts and things are roiling around.

I went to talk to the head of IS. I feel like such a fraud. I needed to be told that it was ok to look into this. I know it is ok, but I needed someone to tell me that I'm not some white girl looking for her Indian princess grandmother.

I don't think I am.  He said he would have pegged me as Métis.  Mixed.  I don't know. Ifeel like everything I have been listening to and reading seems to be coming together into some kind of greater understanding.

J said it would be difficult.

I said that I was not afraid of difficult things, I just needed to know that it was not a wrong path.

I'm terrified and freaked out by this. In the same way that I have been freaked out by most of the revelations of the past year. Thing is, they're not wrong.  I take them, sit with them, dream on them, and they've turned out to be right.  I don't have to want them, but they're true.

I think this one is too.

IT feels right. It makes sense.

The myth of living consciously

My more rational mind tries to spend time "living consciously". Thinking about things before doing them, and putting a great deal of thought into every action as if life can be planned and organized into compartments, and sorted neatly. I think that far better than living consciously would be a return to caring, except that caring is messy. Caring gets you involved in other people's business. Caring means that rather than being careful you mess up, are yourself, make mistakes, and learn from those in your immediate vicinity rather than those creating theories to explain the world. Caring is about getting into arguments about the things tht you are passionate about, and not being afraid to piss other people off. About finding yourself, and people like you. About queer space without allies, and about queer space with them too. There is a moon tonight. I am going to go and sit with her for a bit.