Who is in Control?

Apr 15 th

As a shaman it is so important to connect with Pachamama deeply every day.  When I am out of balance, ayni, I get lessons immediately.  Yesterday I received a lesson from Mother Earth, Pachamama.  In the morning I was tired from the weekend and decided not to do my morning practice including offerings to the Mother.

 

As the day progressed the winds began to howl and I got annoyed and decided to run to a friend’s home an hour away to escape their fury and have better internet for an online class I was going to teach.  But the winds followed me and howled around the friend’s house.  Trees crashed, the house shook and the internet shook too.  When class was over I decided to try and run back to my house and escape the fury of the winds.  But they followed me and dropped a tree behind my car, barely missing me and leaving deep scratches on the door.  I continued driving faster, trying to escape.  When I arrived home, it was in total darkness, the winds had shaken away the power.  As I left my car the winds took the door and held it open. I could hardly close it.  The winds pulled on my hair as I rain for the house, and took the door to my house and crashed it open.

 

Inside, I stood shaking in the dark.  And I got the message.  I was out of ayni, balance.  I hadn’t done my morning practice I hadn’t honored the mother, I had gotten annoyed with her winds.  I thought I was powerful and in control and could escape her.  She showed me her might.  You are in control?  You cannot outrun me!  How about I shake your house and car and your precious internet?  How about if I drop a tree on you?  How about if I leave you in total darkness?  Now tell me who is in control!

 

This morning I stood humbly and gratefully in the winds with my offering and thanked her for the lesson.  And this pandemic is another lesson.  She is in control.

 

POEM TO PACHAMAMA

Santa Tierra, giver of beauties
gentle as raindrops or the sharp claws of tigers,
red as the eyes of ancient tortoises,
redolent as coffees in the damp cool night,
round as ferns glowing green in deep forest,
thunderous as moth wings, rainbows, still pools…
You crack open our hearts with feather-soft fingers,
flood us loose from our fears with such munay
we can only be healed of our bitter tears.
we feed you, Pachamama, our shell shards and offerings,
nestle down in your warm sands
to nurture our becoming
by the whispering lullabies of Mama Cocha.
we dream lavender and roses, sunlight fluttering on leaves,
unicorns charging, lightning rippling on violet hills.
we wrap our roots deep in your diamond heart,
open owl eyes within your dark womb,
to radiant crystals, gushing fountains,
sweet-grass and sage, swift merlins, yellow lotuses,
the crawling jeweled glory of beetles.
you are blood and bone of us all, Nuestra Mama,
birther and healer of our burns,
bringer of death, bearing our freedom
and all balance in your bright cruel sword.
we cherish you, Nuestra Amada,
as saguaro cherishes water,
as aspen cherishes sunlight,
as the dying cherish mercy;
and we bless you, Sagrada Mama,
in our hearts, our words, our deeds;
we aid your precious children,
and we grow your sacred seeds.

~Leslie Morris Britt ©2009

Translation key
Santa Tierra: Holy Earth
Pachamama: Our Mother Place
Mama Cocha: Mother of the Waters
Nuestra Mama: Our Mother
Nuestra Amada: Our Beloved
Sagrada Mama: Sacred Mother