Looking in to the eyes of our past

The 26th was all about that. Mankato Minnesota, the hanging site of the Dakota 38 right in the middle of the town. What a scar on the land. Riders, and runners, natives and non - natives, old and young. women and men, each with their energy electrically charging the air in our space. It was something to see and feel. The songs, the prayers, the healing all charged with the power of intention being shared with breath. Tobacco, sage and cedar, clearing the space of anything negative and a chance to recharge it with pure hope and the light that hope brings. It was a good day to reconcile what had happened. It was occurring all around me. I felt the stab in my neck as the spell of the damage done 151 and 53 years ago on this day was released from my cellular memory and it's physical home with in me. The broken necks of fathers were healing right in front of my eyes. My own father there to receive his own healing from his early departure so long ago. In the sky above us an Indian village formed teepees in the clouds, and held vigil above us. I know heaven is close but to see it is always wonderful and encouraging. The eyes of the past were becoming the eyes of the future. Seeing our world better again now, coming out of the fog and illusion that we have had going for far too long. On the way home, reconciling old hurts and losses, and with the night which came very early, peace in my heart and among all who choose it. Namaste' to us all.