“Go now, and wander
For the welfare of many, out of compassion
For the world.”
Sometimes I’m given street signs or maps during visions and know with precision where I’m going. Maybe not always how I’m going to get there, when, why or for whom but I know where.
My first directional vision sent me to Connecticut in the autumn of 2013. I had the vision, read the sign, plugged into Google and found where I was going. When I got there, I discovered the who and why.
Last September, when Chief Winnemucca gave me the map of the old Judith River Basin reservation (although I didn’t know which map it was at the moment), with the #22 handwritten in the lower right hand corner, I later put that information into Google, found the exact same map, and where the 22s on the x- and y-axis met, is where I went. And, again, learned the who and why when I got there.
In February, the map that appeared showed a particular bend in a river. I opened Google maps, found the bend in the Missouri River and knew that I was headed to the Crow Creek reservation. Which is where I was planning to go last week.
Until two weeks ago.
When the wind wants me to move, she moves me. When the Old Ones want me to move, they move me, too. This time, they worked in concert.
Two weeks ago, when the wind came down the mountains and Black Elk & Sitting Bull put me into her as she rolled through me. I thought they were scattering the seeds of me into the Dakotas where I was heading anyway.
That changed–the plan and the thinking–when others came a while later.
And they came. Riding the same wind on the wings of a red-tailed hawk. Their greeting was one of ancient power and to my only question they responded, “We are the Sun People.” As they rolled through my heart, “We see you. Come home.”
I don’t understand my connection to these Old Ones, the Yavapai of ago. I have learned, though, that when the heart of me is seen by Them, I follow where they lead. Again, without knowing the how of it all, the whys or for whom, I go.
When I attempt to create a plan, how these things unfold reminds me that a plan is often moot. I was fully set on spending time in the Dakotas until I received a note from someone in old Yavapai territory. And so, lame car and all, we knew that the Dakotas would have to wait.
And here we are. Knowing the who and the why while still a little sketchy on the how of it all. Because there are still two thousand miles and ten days between here and home.
If you are inclined to help with the hows of it all, I appreciate help via PayPal. My PayPal address is firstname.lastname@example.org.