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Forest Mist Speaking

Did you too see it? Feel it?

Mist rising in the meadow at dusk just after the swallows entered their evening nest… Felt they were ancestral spirits rising out of the land breathing their prayers for us and those yet to come.

It was just as the sky changed her dress into the soft pastel pinks and peaches she adorns herself with.

Did you see it in the morning, Mist rising into the cool predawn air, Spirits walking on the river’s surface then sifting through the old cedars and grand firs… whispering songs that need not words but rather are deeply felt.

Then did you hear it?

Ruckus of the Raven Tribe shattering the mornings revered silence with their primal tribal hollering. Their voice holds an unbroken presence felt in a people who know their origin story… a people rooted in the medicine stories of their people who came before them.

There’s a great comfort in being touched by wild folk still rooted in their long line of ancestral rememberings. The elk’s bugle… coyotes yipping role call at dawn… the silence like spider webs connecting everything in between…

Did you feel it?

The old feeling of belonging to something greater than ourselves… a distant remembering of ancient relatives with sky and earth and mist and the unspoken silence…. Felt how it pertained to everything

And have you too been changed by it… changed by being touched by the beauty of it all?

This is what the Navajo call Hozho… Walking in Beauty.

There’s origin stories here and those who know their origin stories rise up rooted, embodied, whole…

How will you let life be felt by you today? How will you be changed by the beauty making of this day?

Perhaps we can learn to be more like mountain mist and rise up from ancestral belonging whispering the prayers that need not be spoken but are deeply felt by the very way we live our life.

~ Chivito Cowa

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