In Louise Erdich's Tales of Burning Love two characters sit around telling stories and discussing healing remedies for toothaches. June, a Chippewa woman suggests to Jack (he with a toothache) that he try chewing on cloves, an old Ojibwa remedy. His skeptical response, "Aren't cloves from Europe or something?"
When we gather remedies around us--those which nurture us spiritually--those which nurture our bodies and our hearts--we have to sift. What worked for us 20 years ago may still be fresh. And it may need to be sieved out of the mix.
Whether these remedies come from those we love (or from the last expected source) this process of cleaning out our "medicine cabinet" can cause anxiety and grief. It is for me right now. And I firmly believe it's only going to help....eventually, drat it.
I recently spent hours of focus on another person's life. If he just did this, this, and this....it would all come together. How dare he be dishonest with himself? With her? And while it left me certain I was absolutely right, it also left me certain that it didn't matter. Not my life. Not my choice. And of course...that it was really a way to not examine my own choices. My own personal dishonesty. My own responsibility for happiness.
Melt glass, ride bike, eat, sleep, list. Sift. Sift. Sift. Bake at 375 degrees for 24 hours. Repeat.
When we gather remedies around us--those which nurture us spiritually--those which nurture our bodies and our hearts--we have to sift. What worked for us 20 years ago may still be fresh. And it may need to be sieved out of the mix.
Whether these remedies come from those we love (or from the last expected source) this process of cleaning out our "medicine cabinet" can cause anxiety and grief. It is for me right now. And I firmly believe it's only going to help....eventually, drat it.
I recently spent hours of focus on another person's life. If he just did this, this, and this....it would all come together. How dare he be dishonest with himself? With her? And while it left me certain I was absolutely right, it also left me certain that it didn't matter. Not my life. Not my choice. And of course...that it was really a way to not examine my own choices. My own personal dishonesty. My own responsibility for happiness.
Melt glass, ride bike, eat, sleep, list. Sift. Sift. Sift. Bake at 375 degrees for 24 hours. Repeat.
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