Sitting crossed legged before a warm fire, chill winter night howling outside, shadows bouncing off the sides of my cave, my man softly blowing upon his pipe. Smells of smoldering sage filled our lungs and peace was mellow and soft like the white fur around my shoulders.
I placed black stone and blue stone beads upon a leather cord, little bits of round wood colored like the last dropped leaves of Fall, and finally, savoring precious black horn pipe beads my man made from the horn of the last buffalo he slew for our winter meat, I placed only two of these. Buffalo was his Spirit Animal and each part of each kill was precious to me.
From a trade made long ago with Black Hair Long White Nose - a white man who lived deep in our mountains and forests - I added a metal plate to hang the last of my blue stone beads from.
It was a good necklace. Strong, peaceful and beautiful.
My man smiled, and then said to me ... "Make your earrings then come lay with me. The night is long and my feet are cold."
I ask my Self many's the time, about the word Truth and its meaning. So many questions I ponder over this 5 letter word;
is Truth the same for everyone? is Truth a matter of perspective? is Truth based upon personal or situational circumstance? is Truth always within Human Beings? is Truth ignorned because it is sometimes painful, or negative? is Truth a choice?
And so on.
Following my Path, actually understanding that I even had a Path, only began in 1998 after a meteor disguised as a Human Being, crashed into my Life. The blow was physical, mental, emotional, psychological and rather devastating; and yet from it ... I was reborn.
I began to hunger for understanding about Human Beings - being one my Self, I thought it a good idea. Along with many philosophical studies, I delved into psychological studies and associated miseries thereof. Hmmmm ... iteresting stuff when I considered my own near break from "sanity". Buddhism, Tao and Zen were yummy treats I digested easily, but Native American really hit my Spirit head-on.
And so I read ... Lots of history ... all tragic and I felt supreme disgust with my WHITE blood and heritage. The tiny drops of Cherokee that flows thru my veins is hardly a calling to kinship and yet, I cannot deny the emotional tugging that song, art and stories does to me. Don't ask me why; I get tears at every Pow Wow Ceremony, whenever I listen to drums and flutes and there is a particular someone that I would love to meet ... someday. I wonder does he know this?
What was I looking for? What answers did I hope to find? The question being, What had caused this nasty person to hurt me so deeply, all words spoken with slippery tongue spewing lies.
I wanted to know about TRUTH.
Truth is within every human being from the moment of conception, thru birth and then their surroundings and circumstances and experiences does some "thing" to that Truth; twist it, turn it, mold it, ruin it ... until it actually becomes a choice whether to be a Truthful Human Being, to speak the Truth, live a True Life.
Do we lie on purpose? Sometimes. Do we lie without realizing it? Sometimes. Do we lie to hurt others? Sometimes. Do we lie to better our Selves and our circumstances? Sometimes. Do we lie to keep from telling the Truth? Always.
And so ... the other day I discovered I had not spoken (actually it was written) the Truth about something. I did not realize I had lied. I did not do it on purpose. I certainly did not do it to hurt someone. I would have profitted from the lie, so that would have bettered my Self and my circumstances. When I discovered what I had done, I felt the most supreme shame, the ultimate of embarrassment. And quickly rushed to rectify what I had done.
I doubt the person who lied so grievously to me and hurt me so thoroughly as to change the course of my very existence, felt supreme shame and embarrassment for what he'd done. Though he knew it.
And I think that Truth never changes what it is, but it certainly changes those it touches.
Truth is Truth. Pure, but certainly not simple: "That which is considered to be the supreme reality and to have the ultimate meaning and value of existence."
My my my .... supreme reality, ultimate meaning, value of existence ... yes, certainly NOT simple.
A Dragyn's Tale ...
Long ago in a land far away, I was hatched deep in Helorn's Cave within the black crags of Helorn's Kingdom.
My courageous Father, Emerald the Dark, died whilst protecting my Mother, Amethyst the Mystic, during a fierce battle with the evil Norman Knight, Sir Duldrid.
Flying on great diamond studded wings to the frigid cold of Helorn's Cave, Mother kept still and quiet thru long Winter's sleep. A year after my Father's death, I came into Being.
Heart broken and Spirit weak, my Mother passed into the Other World. Before she left me, Mother told me of the evil Sir Duldrid and the misery he cast upon Helorn's Kingdom, plundering the riches off the land. She told me how he killed my Father upon his great sword and it was then I vowed to grow strong and quick to steal back that which had been taken.
Forging beauty with my fire breath, fanning to life with my great wings all I create, I now offer my riches to the Humans to wear as insult to the dreaded Knight.
And I smile and clean my scales knowing that tonight, Sir Duldrid goes without plunder yet again.
~ Mystic Dragyn ~