Ho'oponopono* for Mother Earth

The last day of March and quite possibly it will go out racing if not raging. As the warm earth will be meeting up with cooler clouds today, it's spring in southern Illinois, in not only the traditional lands of the Osage, Kickapoo, Potawatamii, Miamii, Shawnee, Quapaw but also the alley of tornados. What did I expect by moving back to my homestate after twenty some years? Spring equals tornadoes, wind, rain and then humidity, mosquitos and flourishing earth shaded by trees of every size, shape, color. I left behind the parched constantly arid southwest because I thirsted for green earth where rain danced and shimmered and nourished me. After decades of counting every drop of rain for my gardens, I sit today on my porch awaiting what is forecast to be one of 'those' - another round of heavy rain and wind and possible tornadoes. Prominent forecasters say it's unusual for so many of these potential storm fronts appearing in the heavy rain and snow out west and continuing snow further north. These storms are more severe they comment, more frequent. Climate change? Hmm. 

At almost 73 years of watching winds and sunlight and rain and living on this Great Mother Earth, and as a mother myself and grandmother eight times over, I wonder if She is not actually giving us a talking to, you know, like moms give to their children when one of them breaks a sister's toy or throws a tantrum or refuses to take a bath after a day at play in the backyard. We first talk to them like thinking beings "we can't break other people's things" or "it's ok to be upset but we need to finish the shopping and Mom really needs your help" or simply "you stink! Get in that tub now!" 

Could our one and only Mother Earth, the one being on whom we all depend for EVERYTHING--from air and water and food to all that a toilet paper you waste and even the batteries in your phone so you can read this post--comes from her. But how often do you, before you get out of bed or open your cell phone that you just cannot live without realize gratitude for the very living being you sleep upon each night?

For reasons I can't explain I have been gifted throughout my life with traditions and rituals of various ways to show gratitude. Before I throw the covers off each morning, I fold my hands across my chest look up into the morning light and repeat "arigato, arigato, arigato." Years ago reading about how to bring more abundance into my life, this simple Japanese phrase stuck with me as more than money but the wealth of family, my own good health, a fertile garden, good neighbors. Or just waking up each day.

My mother taught us to say "Grace" before meals and I have attempted to instill the same in mine with mixed results. I do, when present at family gatherings agitate for at least a simple grace we can all remember: "Thanks to Mother Earth, thanks to Father Sun, thanks to the fruits from the garden where the Mother and Father are one." Over time children and grandchildren added their personal touch at the end: "SQUEEZE!" and we all squeeze hands which seems to be their most important part of the blessing. 

Even alone I say that prayer before eating. As a gardener of more than 60 years, I damn well know where my food comes from and what it takes even in my raised beds to bring in healthy food. I also mentally thank the workers in the fields who planted it, weeded it, picked it, drove it to processing centers, shipped it to my markets and those who put it on the shelves and the cashier who rang up my bill. Aren't they too, part of the circle of life? I think they are. 

Back in the late 1990's, I had the privilege to work for the Jicarilla Apache Tribe in northern New Mexico for two years. One of my closest friends and co-workers invited me to attend a few feasts, celebrations of young women coming of age. It's a four day celebration with lots of food, ceremonies, community support and honoring of a girl taking her place as a woman in the tribe. At table with S. and others I watched hoping not to make some stupid White person faux pas and saw her before putting a bit of food on the ground and pouring some of her drink over it, before beginning her meal. When I asked her what happened she gave me one of those looks I actually came to like from my tribal co-workers and friends, the one that could best be translated "White lady, were you born stupid?" My friend said quietly, we give thanks to Mother Earth and the Great Spirit before we eat. Ahh.

This was where I also first witnessed the preparation of the Spirit Plate. And again many times during the days at Standing Rock. It humbled me. As we hungry people stood in the cold November days and evenings, plates in hand, a plate was passed around the serving line with a portion of the various foods for that meal, then blessed and given a place of honor before anyone was served. In the eight days I was there, receiving these gifts of free food, I only heard one person complain: a skinny white man from California who said he was starving and was also angry that the young males ate last. Go figure. Fortunately he left.

I have gathered all these moments into a basket from which I pull these offerings freely shared to enrich my life. Each morning before I take my breakfast, I make sure to walk outside with a fresh cup of coffee into the trees behind my house or simply from my front porch, acknowledge the sky and the ground and the life that surrounds me here, verbalize my gratitude for all that I have, and pour out the first sips onto Mother Earth. On those days when I'm away from the house or forget when a phone call or text interrupts my usual habits, I tend toward going out at a later time and apologizing. When I forget that I am part of, not above all that is contained on this beautiful blue sphere spinning in a vast cosmos among billions of galaxies, the need for forgiveness is strong. 

This morning, as I poured my dark roast with Italian Creamer over the center of the tree sisters (they prefer Italian Creamer to hazelnut by the way,) I began to cry. And it came to me that I needed to add something today. In my awareness of the coming storms, in my intuitive belief that Earth, as a sentient being is trying to awaken us, chastise us even, alert us that She is frankly quite exhausted being taken advantage of on so many levels, I began to recite the prayer I've used often when I needed to make things right with others: "I'm sorry, Please forgive me, Thank you, I love you." After several repetitions as the tears flowed for all those yet who live in ignorance of their bounty, the winds stirred around me even more, inviting me to lighten up a little and dance with them. 

My trees are very forgiving of my slights from time to time. The land is forgiving, as well, allowing me more opportunities to reseed or replant when I fail to listen to Her. 

I wonder when more earthling humans will begin to read in these winds and rains and cyclones and droughts the voice of a loving Mother on her last nerve. And start to show some humility. Climate change? I'm sure. Or Gaia is just changing her tone from "Mom really needs your help now" to "You stink!" 

Gratitude grows exponentially, you know. The more of my life I acknowledge in gratitude the more I have to be grateful for it seems. What might happen if we all begin a simple thank you every day and every evening no matter what emotional or social or political pains we encountered in the hours between? I believe I know. Let's try. And let's begin with some Ho'oponopono for our tired, overworked, constantly giving, constantly degraded, thoroughly neglected by too many, Great Mother. 

And the only Mother we all have.

*"Hoʻoponopono" is defined in the Hawaiian Dictionary as:

(a) "To put to rights; to put in order or shape, correct, revise, adjust, amend, regulate, arrange, rectify, tidy up make orderly or neat, administer, superintend, supervise, manage, edit, work carefully or neatly; to make ready, as canoemen preparing to catch a wave."

(b) "Mental cleansing: family conferences in which relationships were set right (hoʻoponopono) through prayer, discussion, confession, repentance, and mutual restitution and forgiveness.