In the early seventies some would have said I was an exempliary American woman teaching secondary mathematics and science. A writer of innovative individualized mathematics programs. Then the unfathonmable occurred, an uncontrollable growth in my brain, in my Pituitary Gland. By 1975, I left Western Medicine and society to return to the land, to my beloved mother Earth, mother nature to die.
A group of us bought eighty acres in Southern Idaho at the edge of the desert and on the canyon rim overlooking the mighty Snake River. We proclaimed/committed to live a healthier lifestyle intending to grow organic foods. Simultaneously we were sacred activist for the sake of the health of our mother waters. The land over the heart blood of the Earth, the waters, had become a nuclear waste land, the toilet, for the world’s spent highly toxic waste.
You’ve heard of the underground slave emanicipation railroad system of times gone by, well we were a conduit of advocacy also for the Native Peoples so violated by White Man’s materialism and greed. We put the true original Americans on reservations in the most “God Forsaken lands” and then we proceed to poison them with adjacent nuclear contamination. An infamous, Monkey Wrench Gang we were part of.
Through the next decade I would stand beside in ceremony and in public demonstrations honoring the Native Wisdom keepers like Thomas Banyaca, Hopi Spiritual Messenger; Corbin Harney, Shoshone Bannock Spiritual Leader; Brookie Medicine Eagle, Nez Perce, Lakota Sious, English, Metis woman; Rolling Thunder, Grandfather George Washington, NW Wisdom keeper; Dhyani Ywahoo, 28th generation Cherokee Medicine Woman; Dr. Bob White-Eagle, Hopi messenger; SunBear and Wabun. I honor many of these who now stand behind me, in the invisible, bringing me to voice.
I digress—I sat at the feet of Grandfather Thomas Banyaca for a decade. I listened intently to the Hopi Prophecies. We at The Farm, had the opportunity to help the Hopi’s sustain their sacred Blue Corn, symbolic for Universal Peace. Thomas brought us the mother ears and we planted and grew these blue jeweled prophecy providers.
I love the deep indigo blue corn and through the next 30 years I have continued to grow and share the legend and the prophecy on behalf of its sacredness (star seeds) and peace perpetuation possibilities.
When I heard Grandmother Flordemayo call to council in an honoring way, I brought three mother ears of blue corn and presented them to her in an honorable way. I extended the gift and a ‘lightening bolt’ streaked between us. The beginning of evolutionary comprehension of a destined reunion. Corn messengers uniting.