My wife and I first learned of Merida from watching a food show. I began researching the city, and encountered Hammockman blog from someone who would soon become a dear friend. We came to Merida on vacation for three weeks in 2009, staying at a B&B near the bullring. Paul walked from his home on c.61 to greet us. A rich friendship ensued. (I had begun blogging a few years earlier, at yahoo, which later “vaporized” my digits when Microsoft bought it; and at Travelblog — see entries for hat making in Becal, Campeche; and at Ballenberg, Switzerland.)
I met Marc at a bloggers conference in 2010. The three of us began meeting weekly for coffee. A fourth friend, blogging at BackyardNature.net captured our attention from further afield. Jim Conrad is a modern-day Thoreau whom I’ve written about in these pages, here, and here, etc. Paul’s wife Susan, “graduated” earlier this year. And overnight, he moved on, too. My life has been enriched for knowing them.
An Indigenous poem Paul sent me shortly before departing:
For Calling the Spirit Back from Wandering the Earth in Its Human Feet
by Joy Harjo (Fair Use)
Put down that bag of potato chips, that white bread, that bottle of pop.
Turn off that cellphone, computer, and remote control.
Open the door, then close it behind you.
Take a breath offered by friendly winds. They travel the earth gathering essences of plants to clean.
Give it back with gratitude.
If you sing it will give your spirit lift to fly to the stars’ ears and back.
Acknowledge this earth who has cared for you since you were a dream planting itself precisely within your parents’ desire.
Let your moccasin feet take you to the encampment of the guardians who have known you before time, who will be there after time. They sit before the fire that has been there without time.
Let the earth stabilize your postcolonial insecure jitters.
Be respectful of the small insects, birds and animal people who accompany you.
Ask their forgiveness for the harm we humans have brought down upon them.
Don’t worry.
The heart knows the way though there may be high-rises, interstates, checkpoints, armed soldiers, massacres, wars, and those who will despise you because they despise themselves.
The journey might take you a few hours, a day, a year, a few years, a hundred, a thousand or even more.
Watch your mind. Without training it might run away and leave your heart for the immense human feast set by the thieves of time.
Do not hold regrets.
When you find your way to the circle, to the fire kept burning by the keepers of your soul, you will be welcomed.
You must clean yourself with cedar, sage, or other healing plant.
Cut the ties you have to failure and shame.
Let go the pain you are holding in your mind, your shoulders, your heart, all the way to your feet. Let go the pain of your ancestors to make way for those who are heading in our direction.
Ask for forgiveness.
Call upon the help of those who love you. These helpers take many forms: animal, element, bird, angel, saint, stone, or ancestor.
Call your spirit back. It may be caught in corners and creases of shame, judgment, and human abuse.
You must call in a way that your spirit will want to return.
Speak to it as you would to a beloved child.
Welcome your spirit back from its wandering. It may return in pieces, in tatters. Gather them together. They will be happy to be found after being lost for so long.
Your spirit will need to sleep awhile after it is bathed and given clean clothes.
Now you can have a party. Invite everyone you know who loves and supports you. Keep room for those who have no place else to go.
Make a giveaway, and remember, keep the speeches short.
Then, you must do this: help the next person find their way through the dark.
Reprinted from Conflict Resolution for Holy Beings by Joy Harjo. Copyright © 2015 by Joy Harjo. Used with permission of the publisher, W. W. Norton & Company, Inc. All rights reserved. https://poets.org/poem/calling-spirit-back-wandering-earth-its-human-feet