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my two First Women…asleep in the sattvic waves of the vortex known as the “Yavapai-Apache Garden of Eden”…my choice for the ‘baptism’ of my daugther, Dewachen.


From Pada One (DL 12/22):

One half mile into my run, the sliver of trail veered west, tucking itself under the north wall of a soaring monolith of red stone. Now, surprisingly, my most cherished delicacy of my lifetime; Snow! Everywhere! How can I count the ways this mountain yogi loves snow covered Mother Earth!? The trail transformed from red earth dirt into an icy serpent’s hide piercing through a frozen riparian land of mystic awe. My average speed slowed. I was forced by the technical nature of the trail to walk, gingerly and sincerely at crux places. Sweat, snot, and skin now frozen. Upward I continued as the canyon narrowed to several feet, room enough only for the dry, snow caked creek to squeeze past. Iced waterfalls pinned themselves against the vaulting red towers like tinseled fingers. In love, with love I ran, chanting the Sacred Mantra. Seeing my Dewachen’s adorable face in my mind. Each footfall a din against the silence of this creation place, so with each focused foot placement I attached a syllable of the Sacred Mantra. My run thus became my aerobic rosary for whosoever prays outside of sweat is not praying at all. It was then that I felt Her nearness. First Woman*.

And now…for the Conclusion:

She smiled, did First Woman, within my Atman. She spoke to me in that most Ancient, Enlightened of Ways…straight into the HeartSpace; clear, short, with punch strong enough to drive an unprepared Sadhaka to his or her knees. The Enlightened Ones all-Ways deliver Their most meaningful Missives to us in this powerful, almost abrasive way which completely numbs the intellect and wedges itself directly into the receivers soul of Souls. Dolphins and Whales – in my experience – communicate like this. And, of course, Apache – my childhood Wolf Teacher – would Speak to me through this Heart-Steeped venue.

Here is what First Woman transmitted to my frozen, running being within that great canyon of the Ancients;

“Your daughter is a Yavapai Princess; the Elevated Elders delivered Her into your Lodge for you have Seen and have Embraced the Red Road in your Life; you bring Good Medicine to many in this sick time.”

my Heart experienced a magnificent struggle, just to keep beating…my stupid ego blabbered to First Woman;

“but i know nothing about anything! i am old and my Message is only Heard by few ears, my body is racked with lifelong pain, look at me stumbling up this very Path!”

“Shhhhhhh…” whispered First Woman in way that the dying might, “you are Yogi. You know that making sweat in as many Ways as possible is the deliverer of Highest Self Wisdom. The process of yoga – the science of your personal training path – is a process of confronting oneself, one’s lack of talent, one’s lack of confidence, one’s sheer refusal to be an Endless Beginner…yet I tell you, He Who Looks Within, such a Steep Path is the only Path toward Transcendence…”

“but i…”

“Shhhhhh…” She whispered again, “Keep running and do not stop until you reach the Crystal Point where you have meditated before. I will provide a long Light to that spot to keep you warm. You will see water and I will send you a Sign. When you see my Sign, your Heart will dance with the Drums of the High Ones and you will know that your daughter, Dewachen, has been baptized with the Hands of the Ancients. Go, Warrior! Run!”

so run i did.

ran into the cold womb of Red Rock Earth Mother
the splash of snow layered like white arrows resting.

so run i did.

not worrying about death or what might hurt the soul
of my daughter…

i ran with a quiver of First Woman’s own dharma arrows
and knew beyond doubt’s terrain
that Dewa would live like i;
following Her own Soul Path and
be able to drink of its Essence
and rely upon unconquerable Love and Gratitude.

i ran with a shiver of First Woman’s own Dharma War Whooping
careening through my empowered running body
until i lost my brain and became fully Human Being…

climbing up the iced sheath of red cliff to Crystal Point,
lo and behold! a tiny sliver of sunlight!
into the faint warmth of light i folded numb, red legs
best i could
and sat
for a while…breathing, inwardly traveling…
a tiny, cold figure perched high atop an ancient cliff
overlooking the Womb of Creation…
merging…
breathing…
chanting…

opening my eyes,
tiny pools of water – the size of conch shells –
dotted the red rock around me…how they appeared, i know not.

“Dewa’s baptism pools,” She affirmed…

closing my eyes,
retreating inwardly once again; thankful for all my Teachers
through whose Patience, i have come to cherish that most
allowable pleasure common to the Wise Man; meditation…

when the smooth silkiness of Grandfather Sun left my near naked body,
i opened my eyes against the nearly immediate shock of cold.
lifted my head…
and saw…
there, captured by Grandfather’s final rays
a fine filament,
a floating strand through the air, drifting before me like a lyric from an
Medicine Man’s healing chant;

it was a single,
elegant,
and unbelievably beautiful
strand
of
First Woman’s hair.

then,
piercing Sacred Air
a lone Mockingbird’s wild cry
sharp against the canyon twilight.

on rare occasion,
a Human Being encounters the Transition Zone
of Realms.

on rare occasion,
a Human Being enjoys the peace and beauty
of the Natural and Mystical Worlds.

gathering my Mala,
stiff legs unfolding,
down climbing from my precarious,
precious
red rock perch
i
ran
down the trail,
engraved in snow,
me blazing and burning
red cheeks,
feet fast,
heart
in
tune
with
the Great Spirit.

Dewa’s Baptism complete.

Om So Ti.

abba ilg, the desert father

* see Pada Two of Dewa’s Baptism in DL 12/24/07)

NOTE: by request, my 3-Part Series on Dewa’s Baptism is available in book form. email me directly if you are interested.

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