Message from the Grandmothers

November 2008: Rough Seas

"Grandmothers," I said, "the changes that are upon us in the world now are enormous. People are really scared. What would you have us do?"

No sooner did I ask my question than I saw was the sea. It was nighttime, the light was faint, and I was somewhere out in the middle of the ocean. The sea was stormy and the waves were rolling and crashing around me in gargantuan swells. Then I noticed that I was sitting in a small boat, riding the huge ups and downs of these waves and that others were there with me. "All of us a together in the same boat," I said and when I heard what I'd said I realized that the Grandmothers were playing with words and in spite of the dark and the rough ride, I laughed out loud.

The storm was fierce and our boat was being roughly tossed on the water. People were holding on to the edge of the railing and holding on to one another as well. But as I watched all this I was aware that our boat had a very good captain and we had no choice except to ride this storm out. The boat was sturdy -- I could see and feel it's strength--not a big boat certainly, but not a flimsy boat. It was well made, basically well made. And as I observed all this I began to wonder, "Does what I'm seeing here have to do with our country (America) or is it about the human condition today...?" And as I began to think about this, the Grandmothers quickly answered, "Both."

"You are in the troth," they said and when I heard this I remembered what it felt like to be swimming in heavy surf and find yourself at the bottom of a wave with a set of big waves bearing down on you. This experience always terrified me. Smiling grimly the Grandmothers said, "Ride it. Ride it." And when they said this I remembered that they had earlier taught us how to surf under all conditions, taught us how to stand steady, no matter how rough the sea of life got. Now the surf that surrounded us was even bigger. "But at least now we have a craft and we're inside it," I said. "That's something."

"Go with the ride," they said to me. "Don't try to fight it or second guess it. Go with the ride and make sure you all work together." And as I watched, I noticed that some of the people in the boat were bailing and some were rowing. "Nobody is trying to push anybody overboard," I said, " and that's good because that could have happened. I've seen people react that way when they're afraid. But No," I continued, "we're doing this together." And as soon as I spoke I heard the Grandmothers say, "And this is what will save you. Your coming together like this and helping one another.

"For too long you have been cut off from a sense of community, from an understanding of oneness," they explained. "You have been living the way you say wild animals live and actually you are wrong even in this," they said. "Wild animals are much more co-operative than mankind has been in recent times. For far too long human beings have lived on their own, each one for himself or herself. Each one hunting for themselves, grabbing and hiding things from others... " and shaking their heads, the Grandmothers said, "and now you can no longer do that.

"You are in this boat together and only together will you make it," they said, their expressions serious. And when I glanced at the boat I saw that what they were saying was true. People were stationed all over it; the way our weight was distributed was perfectly proportioned. Each one was in her or his correct place to give balance to the vessel.

"You will come through this," they said, "but what is really important is how you will feel about yourself when you do come through this. If you contribute and work for the good of the whole, you will feel good about yourself. If you hide in a corner and weep or stand at the rail and scream you will not feel good about yourself. Find a way to be useful," they said, "and do that.

"And in the mean time," they said, "love one another, give comfort to each other, reach out, support and give. This is beyond," they said and shook their heads, seeming at a loss for words. "What is happening now is beyond anyone's comprehension, it is beyond their ability to manage. What is taking place now is the result of the way your minds have operated for a long, long time. The extreme selfishness that has run your world," they said, "has now come home to roost.

"So take this rough ride as an opportunity to acquit yourself in a way that makes you proud. Do the right thing. Take the high road. Reach out. Be all that you can be. Do it now -- while you are on this rough sea.

"The old ways of hoarding and grabbing," they said, "will not work now. Humanity is one," they said. "You must think, live, work and act as one. What helps one, helps all. And if it does not, it is not truly helpful. You will soon be turning away from your selfish ways," they said and nodded their heads, their expressions thoughtful. "Some of you will do this easily and with grace," they said, "and others will do it kicking and screaming. But you WILL turn away from your selfish ways because they will not work for you any more." Then they gave me a big smile, shot their arms into the air and cried, "All for one. One for all."