We've been rewarded to forget...

Sometimes when I sit in the dark and really settle into the sense of stillness and expansiveness…I feel things rolling around in my being, my brain.

Things that feel older than I remember

There are whispers and tugs beginning to be un-earthed

This particular late august night has my sitting bones nestled in the warm sand; the lack of a moon makes the stars more vocal

My breath slows down to match a loose rhythm with the Creek that I’m visiting

I get curious about these whispers and tugs…I get a sense of “hey, we’re still here.”

I feel myself asking them to speak up: “I can’t hear you…not really…”

I hear these words echo through my veins: “…rewarded to forget.”

These words take me over as I fall into the spaciousness of contemplation and connection…

…I know not for how long since my sense of time has dissolved into the sweet breeze that is keeping the mosquitos at bay.

Upton Sinclair's quote arises: “It is difficult to get a man to understand something, when his salary depends on his not understanding it.”

I think about all the systemic structures we have in place to reward us…with money, yes…but also with acceptance, grades, relationships…

I recall all the times in school where I had to raise my hand to go to the bathroom and then explain to my male teachers why I needed to go. “YES, again for the second time this period…” (because it was my period-time), and how that seemed so unnatural.

How I would have to force myself to do something when what I knew I needed was rest and space…whether it was to show up to a class as a child or to sell stuff at a store as I got older

how this training had compounded itself into my adulthood with “rewards” of being able to eat, to have shelter…as if those things were rewards, not rights.

As I reflect on concepts in my eco-psychology training – how we humans bond with the familiar, how repetition can overshadow reality, how we are rewarded with love and acceptance to tow the line…and as we grow older with good grades…and eventually with money.

How far back does this go? I wonder as I wander in sensory-based contemplation

I recall how I once read about how my ancestors' connection with Trees was so important that it seemed they “married” them, how almost all ceremonies were under, near, or involved Trees. Such was the bond and understanding that life without Trees seemed unnatural.

What happened to that relationship?

The soft twinkling of Stars above and around me seem to bring out these words “to survive” …as if they had been wanting to share what they’ve been seeing, been knowing, for centuries…

Goosebumps cloak my skin

and then sorrow follows and falls down my cheeks


“Rewarded” with survival for burying our ability to connect with Nature. Hiding the land-based ways, stashing them like treasures under the weight, weaving them into symbols that are blended in an assimilation into that of “One God”.

I wonder how much damage has been done in the name of “The One”.

The silky golden threads of an eagle call draw me out of my wonderings…

I hear rustling around me…it’s time to go.