You know these words. I know these words…from the Elders Oraibi, Arizona Hopi Nation.
You have been telling the people that this is the Eleventh Hour.
Now you must go back and tell the people that this is The Hour.
And there are things to be considered:
Where are you living?
What are you doing?
What are your relationships? Are you in right relation?
Where is your water? Know your garden.
It is time to speak your Truth.
Create your community. Be good to each other.
And do not look outside yourself for the leader.
We are the ones we’ve been waiting for.
But do we live them?
In preparing ourselves for the work of this exquisite moment (this very moment and this moment in time) do we neglect to bring it home, where we live? Are we sometimes so fueled by the urgency of our collective vision that we skip over the quality of our human contributions, the very and only ones that can sustain this purpose?
How often is fear the reason we don’t stop to talk about plastic bottles with the woman behind the check-out counter? Are we diligent about going the extra mile to purchase recycled/recyclable products for a Symposium, to the point of requesting the store manager consider a new supplier if they aren’t carried? When we arrive home from an exhausting Facilitator Training weekend, do we take off our training hats, let out a huge breath and become sucked in by our comfortable way of living, or is there a consistency that threads what we’ve just taught and learned to how we spend our evening, and the next and the next? Do we hesitate to take on new Training concepts because we’re afraid of letting go of the familiar, that of which we are sure? Do we hold back from sharing our Truth in a blog because we say we don’t have time, but in reality, putting ourselves out there might invite difficult conversation?
And, as my partner Chris often asks of both of us during the course of any given day, how are we faring with choosing Spirit over ego?
We talk about this work, we wear it emblazoned across our chests. But really, are we up for this task? Are we up for knowing the parts of our garden that are where the shadows lie, covered over by weeds, where nothing has produced in a very long time, if ever? Do we have the stamina and commitment to, as in meditation, continually bring ourselves back to the task at hand when we let go of the strand of consciousness that we recognize as our Truth?
This is, in fact, the precise time, as our Elders have taught us, to “…Know your garden”. To recognize its flawed perfect beauty, and tend to it – thoughtfully, wildly, often.
