Raven and Dragon: myth and magic at home

Long ago, near the beginning of the world, Gray Eagle was the guardian of the Sun, Moon and Stars, of fresh water, and of fire. Gray Eagle hated people so much that he kept these things hidden. People lived in darkness, without fire and without fresh water.
Gray Eagle had a beautiful daughter, and Raven fell in love with her. In the beginning, Raven was a snow-white bird, and as a such, he pleased Gray Eagle's daughter. She invited him to her father's longhouse.
When Raven saw the Sun, Moon and stars, and fresh water hanging on the sides of Eagle's lodge, he knew what he should do. He watched for his chance to seize them when no one was looking. He stole all of them, and a brand of fire also, and flew out of the longhouse through the smoke hole. As soon as Raven got outside he hung the Sun up in the sky. It made so much light that he was able to fly far out to an island in the middle of the ocean. When the Sun set, he fastened the Moon up in the sky and hung the stars around in different places. By this new light he kept on flying, carrying with him the fresh water and the brand of fire he had stolen...(link to the Wiki article "Cultural Depictions of Raven" to read the rest of the Raven's tale and the reason Raven is now coal black rather than snow-white. The Wiki link will also site photo credit for the exquisite Tlingit Raven art above.)

AN UPDATE TO THIS POST: This 2011 YouTube caught my attention as I came back to correct the spelling of "Tlingit" ... A project of language preservation, "Persuasive Raven" is a book to book for in the coming years.

Damp and cool partner today. I am sure this is our Pacific Northwest home. Home of Raven. The bowl of green grape tomatoes on our Quonset table ripen above the Radiant heater and when I sit to eat my lunch I reach for the yellow-peach fruit and say, "Yum this is good." Thankful to have the curved shelter and warm space I spent a little time between writing and connecting with an old pal crafting small pockets of warmth into the crevices in the Quonset. Wads of wool weren't enough to keep the damp and cool out. The journey of discovering how to turn a green house frame into a home has led Pete and me back and forth between time adapting skills learned very early on. A builder of bridges, a brick layer--a laborer; a seamstress, daughter of a mother who valued clothespins and safety pins and ironed other peoples' clothes for money we glean the essence of skills over time and adapt what we know. So the pockets of warmth are fashioned from a length of bubble foil insulation taped with Shur-tape two materials we have found useful in our reassembled lifestyle.

In the past few nights ago we watched a couple movies about women's work; one depicts an event in Women's History we'd not know of till we watched Made in Dagenham.Women machinist seamstresses who stitched together the car seats of the Ford Escort in the 1960's stage and carry off a successful strike. During the time of beehive hair dos and mini skirts which I remember first hand, the seamstresses shut down the old boys and laid the basis for equal pay for women in the UK, and beyond. The other was an older (1998)Meryl Streep film One True Thing . The plot of the film, an adaptation of Anna Quinlen's novel, is about a young woman (Ellen) at the rise of her journalistic career forced to return home to care for her mother. Her mother has cancer. From Wikipedia this excerpt of the film:

"As Ellen helps her mother with domestic chores while her father goes about his usual business without helping much, Ellen begins to reassess her views of her parents. She realizes she always brushed her mother aside and idealized her father...

The combined affect of both those movies played at the strings of my experience with the continuum of women's work, a continuum and a collage of roles lived. Not one position over time, but a series of roles and awareness pave the road to equal rights and equal pay is better appraised over a very long time. 

Our pods of living space lifestyle crisscrosses myth and magic everyday and in the process the standards for normalcy change one episode at a time. The bubble wrap insulation packets seal the corner of our Quonset. Vapor and cold stay outside and to add a pinch of luck and magic, I nod to Raven and Dragon and position stickers and stencils with their shapes where they're needed: on the front door, in the corner of fortune, over the holes in the clear, wavy plastic window-wall, in front of the push out window above the sink. Talismans, magic, company, protection. When we chatted this morning, my old pal and I, the conversation led to the place where Crones who are old friends can speak candidly about the angles we get now that we are aging. Changeable? Yes, we are capable of it, and though it embarrasses us to say it we know what a waste of energy it (has been) is to resist change when it's just the thing to do.

Unembarrassed I put dragon stickers on my windows and call on the mana of Mo'o ... "Be with us Goddess!"

Unembarrassed I tell stories about stones -- POHAKU, who birth their babies in a bowl. I water them, and care for them. They grow before my eyes.

 Unembarrassed I decide to choose my affiliations with more discernment; "No, I'll not tell my stories to this group, this person ... they don't deserve this medicine." Saturn in Scorpio is a two point five year stretch of cutting to the chase sooner than later. I take the clue, and apply the skill.

Unembarrased we make room for Raven, for his clan has surely made room for us.

While I opened and explored a way to gather my thoughts and awareness for myth and magic at home I knew Mo'o needed to be part of this piece. Maui Theatre in Lahaina continues a theatrical depiction of Hawaii's people that includes Mo'o.  Ulalena began it's early showing while Pete and I still lived on Maui. There on the stage of the Lahaina theatre was myth and magic at home. I recall watching the production in Lahaina, transfixed and can still hear the clapping of my hand as we participated in the making of rain part of the mythic and inseparable from the magic.

Unlike the other gods in our story, the Mo'o is not a single character; there were many Mo'o who were often worshiped as aumakua (ow-ma-koo-ah), family gods who were more approachable than the great gods and could warn, advise and assist a clan in time of trouble. - from the Ulalena website

Clapping my hands the rain falls and all time is made my present.

Superficial or Solid: your support, your backbone

I'm just back from a chat with my friend who rents us space for our vardo and the Quonset.  She was in her garden pulling thistles before they go to seed and scatter hundreds more just like themselves.  Prickly stuff and hell to rid if you're not vigilant.  We are four old folks, our friends, me and Pete living in the woods and shoring each other up.  A year ago last summer we were strangers looking for a good fit in a world being shaken by its tail-bone.  There is a maoli concept based on the life of the Kiha that seems to fit here, so I'm putting it down and hope it is a tale that you can digest and make use of it in your world.

"Coming together is not based on equality, but rather on understanding that everyone is uniquely diferent, and that each has a unique contribution to offer."- from Saga of the Kiha by Kauilahuliauikeanu & Kauakahi

The saga of the kiha is the story of the mo'o (the embodiment of strength and tenacity) the supernatural dragon and a parable for building people of value and character. Within this story, the kanaka -- the reader regardless of race, is given a sage-filled journey to understand how important the tail of the dragon, lizard, mo'o is.  The strength of the mo'o builds from front legs, the grasping legs of the young and new generation.  The explorers:  handling, sensing.  Up through the legs and into the body of the Kiha, the power of further exploration grows.  This center of power is called "Mana" in the language of kanaka.  Gradually, the mana moves into the hind legs where support and 'back-up' is given to the kanaka.  The young child, and pubescent woman-man becomes procreative, and then parents become  makua.  Makua are the guiding forces.  What is needed as the young are born and explorative is given from the back feet, and then ultimately, the stories-tales move into the tail, where all guidance waits.  These guiding stories are "moo-lelo"; stories wrapped around the tail-bone.

Sitting here, on my tail-bone, digesting the afternoon chat with my friend pulling thistles I think of my motivation to cross the orchard that separates or is the common land between our living spaces.  I crossed the orchard to check in with my friend.  It has been a trying time for us these few weeks, with tension building for multiple reasons.  We live in this American nation that took from the Kanaka, the culture and life blood of a race once-rich with mana and backbone as strong as Kiha.  Nearly two hundred years ago, Lili'uokalani crossed in a sailing ship to visit with the President of America to ask why with all these endless stretches of land as 'their own' would you also come to take our tiny islands as well? 

Winding my way to the tip of that mo'o's tail bone, I feel the rattle of a country with its tail-bone shaken loose.  We real folks, no longer young, have handled and experienced many things, decisions, jobs, diversions.  Here in these woods on an island in America's Pacific coast I talk to my neighbor and check to see how solidly our relationship supports our mutual needs.  We are independent yet interdependent.  When we came looking for a place to park our wheeled home, we came for a place with people who have skills and hearts capable of opening and supporting our uniqueness.  They were looking for someone who could help around the land; with a truck; a cat who lived outside and hunted rats; and were people they could like and trust; and pay rent.  We fit.  They fit. This afternoon's chat over thistles and poultry digging up the garden filled in the cracks in the foundations: "How you?"  "Been working on that book?"  "Thanks for the re-negotiation on the electric bill."  "Here's some $ for the bath house."  Small and vital maintenance and affirmations is what it takes to keep trust alive, and support real.

Rocky times, and tail-breaking turmoil will test the quality of your support systems.  The Kiha story ends with knowing that a mo'o can regrow a tail, escaping danger, it's internals will always grow another tail of balance and strength.  So, what is the head of the mo'o you might wonder?  The head is the future where we choose what we think with clarity or cloudiness.

What is the Kiha value in your life?  Superficial or solid? Are you someone's go to gal/guy? 

P.S. Thanks Elsa for the great topic that fueled this storyteller.