Happy Birthday To You ~ Sarkes Sam Tootalian

Happy Belated at this post’s point, but a day in The D had me realizing that my Father Sarkes would be celebrating his 91st Birthday on Wednesday of this week. As you may see from the stone, he came into the world on November 20th, 1928, and departed May 7th, 2006. He was 100% Armenian, spoke the language fluently, and was a veteran of The Korean War, hence the flag. A sunny, warm afternoon after some intense, early winter Midwest storms had me visiting and enjoying lunch out at my Dad’s site. Sam as he was known to the business world enjoyed Chipotle, the maker of Mission-style burritos, I think in part because of his love for their Barbacoa Burritos as well as Chipotle Mexican Grill Incorporated stock. I leave food out for Spirits, understanding the ancestors appreciate the gesture and acknowledgment, and in their ways, reciprocate. Without bodies needing sustenance, they still recall their time in the material world and find the essence of food and offerings pleasing.

I sent this pic to my sister Debbie, who informed me a Mass was being held in our Father’s honor yesterday at 9 a.m. She passed over an excerpt from the Bible read at the funeral of my Father’s Mother, Emily Tootalian, my Armenian Grandmother, on October 26th, 1994. Psalm 90 - Thanksgiving for Deliverance from Death. “I will extol Thee O Lord. for Thou hast lifted me up. And has not let my enemies rejoice over me. O Lord my God, I cried to Thee for Help, and Thou didst Heal me.” Truth. One thing for certain about being on the Spiritual Path is that your relationships are grounds for incredible growth. Reflecting on the challenges of being my Father’s son, I realize now how I’m coming to terms with a situation that called me to rise up and wrestle with Life, meeting that test with every ounce of courage I could muster. And ultimately how Good it was for me.

Once you begin taking possession of the keys to the locks on the invisible chains of the material world, things get… kinda funny in a synchronous way. Just as I bid Sarkes adieu and hopped in my truck, I recalled how, in his sixties, Sark developed a love for Jimmy Buffet. S. Sam, of all people, and I hope all his cronies know this - actually became an old Parrot Head, the commonly used nickname for fans of the singer, and as far as I know attended more than one show. Apparently, that’d make me a Parakeet or ‘Keet, the moniker for younger fans or children of Parrotheads. I found this all so funny, I tuned in to channel 24 on Sirius Satellite radio, The Margaritaville station, hearing the song Fruitcakes for the first time, Buffet having a ball singing of all of humanity’s imperfections: “The cosmic bakers took us out of the oven a little too early”. When I heard the verse below, referencing religion and human fallibility, I found it all hilarious and so Heyoka, I cracked up all the way Home. God Bless my Dad’s Spirit~ Happy Birthday Sark.

“Religion! Religion! Oh, there’s a thin line between Saturday night and Sunday morning. Here we go now. Alright, Altar boys - Mea Culpa Mea Culpa Mea Maxima Culpa Mea Culpa Mea Culpa Mea Maxima Culpa.

Where’s the church, who took the steeple?
Religion’s in the hands of some crazy-ass people.
Television preachers with bad hair and dimples,
The God’s honest truth is, it’s not that simple.
It’s the Buddhist in you, it’s the Pagan in me,
It’s the Muslim in him, she’s Catholic ain’t she?
It’s the born-again look, it’s the WASP and the Jew,
Tell me what’s goin on, man I ain’t got a Clue.”

On Healing, Heyokas and Ceremonial Purification

Chief Phillip Aaron Crazybull dons the Mask that Heals 90’s Heyoka-style

We threw our monthly Wopila last week, a great celebration of Life in the center of the center of another short but wildly successful Way of The Contrary weekend overnight retreat. Bookended by lunch Saturday at noon and a casual Sunday morning breakfast, we studied — from the workshop descriptor — the Contrarian concept of human healing and energetic renewal drawn from traditional cultures of the American Plains. “Bad was turned to good, seemingly negative to positive, with fear, anxiety, depression and other mental ills soothed by mind-training techniques and Ceremonial purification.” Boom. This is indigenous America’s and one of planet earth’s most powerful teachings and techniques for restoring mental well-being. And Kevin and Sara, Carter and Lauren, Janine and myself can all attest to the energetic uplift, renewed life vitality and tangible tranquility that follow one back into daily life.

Over the weekend, we discussed how the practices of earth’s ancient peoples are coming around full circle to assist residents of the modern world in solving a novel set of contemporary problems. We then shared a direct experience of how the power of mindfulness coupled with a rite of purification can send us leaping and bounding toward new vistas of personal power and unconditional happiness. Or at least give us a glimpse. Given that following through on one’s prayer is a principle we encourage, Heyoka or contrarian teachings aren’t part of our modern day American culture and thus not even conceived of by modern day psychology. At least until now, opening the (back) door to a new tier of wholeness and healing. Boom Boom (Lightning Flash). The (crooked) bottom line? The unhealable no longer presenting itself as so. From Wickipedia: the heyoka (heyókȟa, also spelled “haokah”, “heyokha”) is a kind of sacred clown in the culture of the Great Plains of North America… a contrarian, jester, (or) satirist who speaks, moves and responds in opposite fashion to the people around them. Only those having visions of the thunder beings of the West, the Wakinyan, and who are recognized as such by the community, can take on the Ceremonial role of the Heyoka.” Good one (Boom Boom Boom ~ Thunder rumble n’ roll).

 There’s a lot more to be said on the subject. Or not.  I do uphold the strong belief that allowing others to tell the story of their visit from their own perspective is a worthwhile approach to understanding, as we all share similar fears as well as hopes of breaking through. Here’s Carter’s take: “When I first heard about The Way of The Contrary weekend it peaked my interest and I was intrigued. At the same time, taking part in the sweat made me feel hesitant and apprehensive. It can be intimidating, when you think about participating in such an ancient, sacred Ceremony. But boy, was I surprised. Paul did a wonderful job making all the particpants feel comfortable — even a beginner like myself. To me, the sweat was very grounding and it allowed me a new perspective on my daily challenges and problems through a different scope. I will be back, as it was truly a Divine experience.”

If your interest is peaked and you’re intrigued by the prospect of taking part in a spiritual practice and ancient rite calling all the powers of the universe into play — earth and the things of the earth, water, fire, rocks, and also the sky, the nations of stars and celestial dwellers — that then lays them at your feet for a transformative experience, ultimately affording a new, more positive take on life, take a look at our December pre-Holiday Happenings. See you out at our Wednesday Noon Meditation class, our Friday December 13th Workshop at Yoga Life in St. Joe, or the same retreat that Carter experienced with our December 14th-15th Overnight, all with a (third) eye towards making 2020 the Happiest of New Years.   One Heart, One Mind, One Voice, One Chanupa. Aho Matakuye O’yasin! (#@$%&!!!)

A Gathering of Shields

Rain-In-The-Face (Lakota Ite Omagazu) - the shielded Hunkpapa Lakota War Chief

The Story of a Well-Made shield

Now in the dawn before it dies, the eagle swings low and wide in a great arc, curving downward to the Place of Origin. There is no wind, but there is a long roaring in the air. It is like the wind—nor is it like wind—but more powerful.

In its basic form the Plains shield is round and made of durable materials. It is relatively small and light in weight. A diameter of 24-inches is close to the average. The manufacture consists of hide and adornments. The hide is thick and dried to a remarkable hardness; it is most often the hide of a bison. Only in a limited sense can the shield rightly be considered armor, although it is strong enough to dispel missiles, stones and clubs certainly, but also arrows and even balls and bullets shot from firearms, especially if the blow is glancing. But first and above all, the shield is Medicine.

The Plains’ shield reflects the character of the Plains’ culture, also known as the Horse culture or Centaur culture. It evidences a nomadic society and warrior ideal. Those who carried shields were hunters and fighters whose purpose it was to raid, to capture, and to demonstrate extraordinary bravery.

The aesthetic aspect of the Plains shield is pronounced; the shield is a unique work art. Without exception great care is given to the decoration of a proper shield. The artwork on many Plains’ shield is highly evolved in terms of proportion, design, symmetry, color, and imagination. Plains shield art is the equal of the great ledger book drawings of the nineteenth century, which in turn have been compared to Archaic Greek vase painting. It is an art of high order and singular accomplishment.

The shield bears a remarkable relationship to the individual to whom it belongs. Indeed the relationship is so immediate, so intimate as to be impossible to define. In a real sense the Plains warrior is his shield. It is his personal flag, the realization of his vision and his name, the object of his holiest quest, the tangible expression of his deepest being. In bearing his shield he says, “ My shelf stands for me, and I stand for my shield. I am, and I am my shield!”

The shield is involved in story; the shield is its own story. When the shield is made visible it means: Here is the story. Enter into it and be created. The story tells of your real being. The shield is a mask. The mask is an appearance that discloses reality beyond appearance. Like other masks, it bespeaks sacred mystery. The shield is what you see, believes the Plains’ warrior. It reflects your own reality, as it does mine, he says. It reveals to you the essence of your self. It charms you, frightens you, disarms you, renders you helpless. You behold my shield and you are transfixed or transformed, perhaps inspired beyond your own imagining. Nothing will ever be the same again, for you have entered into the presence of my power. Oh my enemy! Behold my shield! — N. Scott Momaday, In The Presence of The Sun