All moons, all years, all winds

Eat your heart out, Joanna Wiebe, 1977

All moons, all years, all winds, reach their completion and pass.

Just as blood flows to its place of silence,

it also achieves its thrones of power and authority.

The radiant gods

measure out our time of celebration;

measure out the time we know the benevolence of the sun

measure out the time when the stars look down on us.

And until the end, in vigilance, these gods we have ensnared inside the stars,

also look down on the cosmos from outside time and place.

Chilam Balam de Chumayel, translated from Spanish versions, by Joanna Wiebe

The Mayan Chilam Balam books are named after towns in the Yucatec area of Mexico and usually a mishmash of Mayan and Spanish traditions. The Yucatec Mayas ascribed these to a legendary author called Chilam Balam, a chilam being a prophet.  The topics include history, calendrics, astrology and herbal medicine. Originally written in the Yucatec Maya language, in European script, the manuscripts date to the 18th and 19th centuries and earlier.  There are many Spanish translations, including those of Barrera Vásquez & Rendón, Reifler Bricker & Miram, and Roys.

This translation is a work in progress. I have been working on it since 1976.

NOTE: I have a more recent (and better) translation, which can be found at: http://joannawiebe.com/2009/12/15/all-moons-redux/

Walking Santa Rosa

Santa Rosa Labyrinth

Santa Rosa Labyrinth at Evanston Friends Meeting

Today I facilitated a labyrinth walk at Evanston Friends Meeting, where I attend.  About twenty-five people walked the sacred path with me, and afterwards some of us went to eat Thai food together nearby.

Santa Rosa Labyrinth pattern

Santa Rosa Labyrinth pattern

The handsome portable canvas labyrinth is in the Santa Rosa pattern, and was created by my friend Evelyn Ward de Roo, who lives in Ontario, and is an interior re-designer.  She loaned the labyrinth to me until we see each other this coming March. I am planning another walk at Friends Meeting in March, and possibly another for my friends with the Evanston Home Educators.

Labyrinths (not to be confused with “mazes”), have been used in spiritual practices by many cultures, for thousands of years. The Christian world’s use of labyrinths began in the Middle Ages, as a symbol, and even substitute for, longer, more expensive and dangerous pilgrimages to Jersusalem.  The Roman Catholic church selected seven pilgrimage cathedrals to become focal points for pilgrims. The walk into the labyrinth in many of these cathedrals marked the ritual ending of the physical journey across the countryside. It served as a symbolic entry into the spiritual realms of the Celestial City.

Melissa West has written a book called Exploring the Labyrinth, in which she says, “The labyrinth’s ancient power derives from the fact that it is an archetypal map of the healing journey. The walk itself is a potent physical metaphor for the journeys of healing, spiritual and emotional growth, and transformation. In walking the labyrinth, we start at the perimeter. The path of the labyrinth, like any journey, has its own twists and turns, sometimes drawing near to and then away from the center . . . It is only by keeping to the path, step by step, twist by turn, that one arrives at the physical center of the labyrinth, which signifies arriving at the center of our own livs and souls. Reaching the center of the labyrinth represents reaching the center, not only of our own hearts and spirits but of the goal we seek:  Spirit, release from emotional or physical pain, a solution to a challenging problem or creative task, the unobstructed self. Walking the labyrinth can help people step foot once gain on their own paths, helping them to remember their own lives as spiritual journeys.”

Today, as I was walking along between the painted purple lines I thought often of my friend Evelyn,  visualizing her on her hands and knees, painting the lines.  The walkers bunched up frequently and I felt a little stressed, and even a bit panicky, wondering if I had lost my way by stepping around people, and scared that I wouldn’t get to the center of the labyrinth. But I kept walking, and I did reach the center, which was sort of anticlimactic. On the way out I kept thinking of the lines from Antonio Machado, “Traveler, there is no path. Paths are made by walking.”

Body Language

My beloved on the beach in Oregon, with seaweed

My beloved on the beach in Oregon, with seaweed

1.

I will take your feet first,
your body’s back-handed rememberings,
toes curling in the dust of an old path
where everyone has walked:
do they hear ancient messages in the soil?
does the earth give you strength
when you walk on it?
may I touch the place where your heart
begins, here…?

2.

A banner in the field, a blue scroll furling
and floating, your name:

Beloved.

Joanna Wiebe, 1984