The Lodge of a Whispering Earth

Exert from from www.whitebison.org‘s — Elder’s Meditation of the Day – February 25

“The Creator was responsible for the existence of everything, a part of the Creator’s spirit exists in everything and thus all things are connected.”

–Larry P. Aitken, CHIPPEWA

For me, this is of the Great Mystery of which we are all apart … the ties that bind us all together.

Often, I forget about these connections as I do feel that if you spend too much time around computers, televisions, radio, electronic devices and other such ‘distractions’ … your energy will change to the point that you become separated from the interconnected web of the Natural World and Great Mystery.

This does not mean that we are not still a part of that great pattern but more so that we are not flowing in harmony with it.

I first began to realize this when I would walk into the woods a few years ago and feel out of place … uncomfortable.

When I began to cut off such things as the radio while driving, I began to feel more comfortable with being among and a part of the Natural World with me becoming more aware of those threads that connect one to another.

It comes down to balance between the world of “modern” society and the natural world … with the acceptance that the latter is the more important.

While sitting inside the house this past weekend, there came a noise from outside.

A mockingbird let lose with a beautiful song that normally heralds the arrival of spring.

I could not help but smile at the sound of my feathered friend.

A couple of evenings back, I lifted prayers for my 18-year-old daughter who has been facing several personal challenges in her life.

As with any parent, I want what is best for her … yet have grown wise enough to realize that not always do that mean the easiest and less difficult path is the best path.

Looking back on my own life, I see how the roads of challenge have done more to shape and define my path — giving me more strength and focus later on.

I kept this in mind as I sat down to pray and simply held up my daughter and her challenge … asking simply that she be guided and helped in her journey with what was best for her taking place.

I prayed for strength and focus for my daughter and as the smoke rose skyward … I felt the peace of the moment with the realization that she is indeed facing challenges that will help strengthen her in the years to come.

Letting the prayers flow into the Great Mystery and placed my trust in Creator.

Of course, the fears and concern of being a father returned later … but even now I can still feel that soft peaceful feeling deep inside that all will be well.

… That the flow of the great river of life is as it should be.

It feels important to speak first on the everyday aspects of my life to sort of give a framework for later stories to build upon.

So here we go.

My parents gave birth to me in 1970 in eastern North Carolina where I lived until my early twenties.

Restless in life and spirit, I knew not what I needed or wanted in life … only that I was not happy where I was in life.

I had not yet fully accepted the fact that I was prone to panic attacks and avoided more social interactions.

And so my first wife and I moved to the Shenandoah Valley (at the foot of the Blue Ridge Mountains) with our little daughter — specifically we moved to the top of a hill between Lexington and Buena Vista in Virginia.

At the time, I worked with the developmentally disabled (and the mentally ill before that) yet within a couple years of the move I found out two things about myself — I found my love of history and also photography.

My love of history led me to become a batteau reenactor in my spare time, helping to crew 50-foot wooden flat-bottomed boats that were once used to haul cargo up and down the James River in the 18th and 19th centuries.

It was during this time that I met one of my life’s best friends, Bill Ruble, who not only befriended me, but helped me set my feet to path in such a way that my life became more real and began to find real meaning.

He taught me to reach for my dreams and to be unafraid to let old limitations keep me from trying.

In fact, I broken through the barrier of panic attacks at one point and organized a group that worked hard to purchase a batteau and bring it into the county.

For several years, the “Pride of Rockbridge” sailed the Maury and James rivers while being an active participant in the James River Batteaux Festival.

In addition to the love of history, I found a love of photography and even writing (regardless of how bad my spelling was at the time) and ended up taking photographs for the local weekly newspaper as a freelancer and even fielded a Saturday column for them for a time.

I owe my attempts on that front to Bill as well.

In the end, what founding the batteau crew started, my work as a freelance photographer for a newspaper finished with regards to overcoming my panic attacks as I had to deal with people in order to perform my work.

A few years later, I moved with my family a little bit more north to Waynesboro after taking another job in the human services field in that area.

Although I left the crew of the Rockbridge, I still kept freelancing but instead of the weekly was not taking sports photos for the Waynesboro daily paper.

It did not take long for me to realize my heart was in being a news photographer, but only after the end of my first marriage (and I moved a couple of miles away to Staunton) did I make the leap.

I left my comfortable job as a low level administrator in human services and became a part-time photographer for the News Leader in Staunton.

A couple of years later found me working full-time — passionate and fully in love with the work I performed.

Of course, it was during the first years of this phase in life that I had my second marriage during which I found myself pushed and beaten emotionally down.

I also found I let go of about everything important to me from family to friends to self — all except my work as a photojournalist.

I even was letting my wife at the time to push away my daughter as she tried to supplant her with her own son.

During this time, my best friend Bill Ruble died of cancer with me not being there … separated as I had allowed myself to be … and it hit hard and hurt deeply.

Maybe that was one of the first real wake-up calls for me.

All I know is that I began to stand up for myself and for the first time began to look at just who I was, who I wanted to be, and what was important for me.

I gathered my strength and left the abusive relationship behind and have never looked back.

Do I regret those darker years? … No, because those years gave me the strength to stand on my own.

And all this happened before my 30th year.

At age 30, I celebrated my growing awareness at my own life and began to do what was necessary.

Of course, I still had a lot to learn … as we always do.

It was not long after that a recession hit and I was laid off at work.

I learned very quickly what it was like to not have enough money and to humbly and with great humility have to look to others for help in simply surviving.

Thanks to the help of others, I kept my apartment and eventually found a job at a local distribution warehouse … something I always thought beneath me but of which I gained a new respect.

((I should also note that I became a Civil War reenactor during this time and these friends … many of whom are friends still … were a rock of support.))

I worked in that job for several years and figured my dream of being a photojournalist was over as I had sold my camera long.

But then events changed and I received a phone call from the photo director at the Daily News-Record in Harrisonburg asking me if I wanted a job.

With a lot more wisdom, I accepted the offer and became a photojournalist once again.

It was one week before I was to start this new job that I met my current wife in a chance encounter.

I worked in Harrisonburg for several years and left only when my former editor at the Staunton paper had an opening and offered me the chance to return.

I chose to take him up on it as I always saw him as a fair person who was good to work for and with.

A year later after that return, he happened to also offer me the chief photographer’s job as my supervisor was retiring.

I remember quite clearly looking at him and telling my editor that it was funny … If I had not been laid off originally and lost that job, I would never have learned the lessons necessary to make me a good chief photographer … a position I still hold after five years.

My life is good and although I may grumble and complain … I am for the most part happy.

I married a wonderful and loving woman with whom I share a young daughter that is about 16 years younger than my eldest.

We have a home with land surrounding it that has become a private sancuary and the heart of the Grove for which I stand as guardian.

I have also learned also that it is not so much being a photographer or photojournalist … but more so a “hunter of stories” that I love.

And … I have learned much about myself, walk with a better understanding and with a great deal more respect for those around me.

I have learned to live life and walk even among the shadows when needed.

At age 30, I found who I was and now as I approach age 40 … I am finding my spiritual path.

What follows is the opening text of “Keep Going … The Art of Perseverance” by Joseph M. Marshall III.

I was led to these opening pages of the book again this morning and found it offered me clarity of vision and an affirmation that it is ok to be human and all that comes with being human.

It also has helped me figure out how best to help my eldest daughter.

A young man asked his grandfather why life had to be so difficult sometimes. This was the old man’s reply.

Grandfather says this: “In life there is sadness as well as joy, losing as well as winning, falling as well as standing, hunger as well as plenty, badness as well as goodness. I do not say this to make you despair, but to teach you reality. Life is a journey sometimes walked in light, sometimes in shadow.”

Grandfather says this: “You did not ask to be born, but you are here. You have weaknesses as well as strengths. You have both because in life there is two of everything. Within you is the will to win, as well as the willingness to lose. Within you is the heart to feel compassion as well as the smallness to be arrogant. Within you is the way to face life as well as the fear to turn away from it.”

Grandfather says this: “Life can give you strength. Strength can come from facing the storms of life, from knowing loss, feeling sadness and heartache, from falling into the depths of grief. You must stand up in the storm. You must face the wind and the cold and the darkness. When the storm blows hard you must stand firm, for it is not trying to knock you down, it is really trying to teach you to be strong.”

Grandfather says this: “Being strong means taking one more step toward the top of the hill, no matter how weary you may be. It means letting the tears flow through the grief. It means to keep looking for the answer, though the darkness of despair is all around you. Being strong means to cling to the hope of one more heartbeat, one more sunrise. Each step, no matter how difficult, is one more step closer to the top of the hill. To keep hope alive for one more heartbeat at a time leads to the light of the next sunrise, and the promise of a new day.”

Grandfather says this: “The weakest step toward the top of the hill, toward sunrise, toward hope, is stronger than the fiercest storm.”

Grandfather say this: “Keep going.”