Like early pioneers, I wonder as we learn to venture inward, if we will have to cultivate similar skills and resilience as those brave and desperate souls. If the physical is the start of a trail-head, as many believe, then how amazing is it to be stumbling down this byway that will be the “camino” of future historians of consciousness. With tourists flocking to re-experience the wilds their ancestors traversed. And to marvel how they found their way using only primitive instruments like drums and plants.

Anthropology may recount the weird Polynesian-type navigation of reading waves, processes and currents rather than geometry of the stars, the aborigine messengers walking in dream time collecting sign and landmarks. The psychedelic shakedowns stripping stories and personal history. The wyrd sisters, weaving rainbow fabrics of time with chords of runes like streaming divas.

Life goes on in the settlements for now, but there is wilderness all about our sanctuaries. And strange noises break from the jungles and the darkness. “Here be Dragons” has always been our demarcation for the edges of our maps. And the song of our people.

One thought on “Pioneers”

  1. On the Frontier stay aware of ‘eastern bankers’ with seeming deep resources who offer enticements to expand territory beyond one’s means, strung with fine-print tendrils intent on stealing their prey’s soul land. Be aware of hearsay promoters promising ‘high ground beyond ones wildest dreams, pumpkins the size of boulders, rich earth begging for your seed, crystal healing waters in abundance; and cannot or never mention the droughts, the locusts, the blizzards, the windstorm sand grit flavoring your foods and floor. Be aware the crusty desperate older than years man promising a good life, come to me, only to demand and abuse your once soft hands and youthful face. and what of those already there, already living on the land as it provides? fear them, misunderstand, avoid, and push them out as humans so often do? or learn their ways listen to their wisdom, live in peace. do you need that plow and ox to drag-slog it modeled on homeland patterns, to toil and rip the rich soil’s dermis into shredded ribbons of drying, dying, eroding biome? save your funds, better to use the magical staff to plant your seeds in strategic balance, a hoe and water pail, fruit trees to sweeten your palette and ferment your wine. better to keep your tools, your hunting bows and rifles well oiled and sighted in with horse to carry you far on the hunt, or to escape. better to grow your garden close and tidy, inoffensive to the prairie lands established by grace over eons. many a settler retreat from the frontier, most all, broken, crazy, disillusioned, home-sick. but the community grows in spurts and spouts and the new generations come to live and experience what there is for them. know well your mail-order bride, your friends, your milk cow, your faithful dog that keeps the coyotes at bay and the mystery cat that keeps the gnawing pests from your stores; nurture them all. know where your shamans live, in books or in form with their medicines and healing abodes and songs that restore. remember your people’s history but open to new ways and horizons. yeah, the deeper human spirit though often pushed by adversity and need, thrives on exploration, initiative and challenge.

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