The Dress That Heals

The dress.

The dress spoke.

The dress spoke loudly, drowning out the speeches of important people in the room.

The dress spoke the stories of Ancestors.

The dress spoke truth about this land’s conquest and the way brown and black bodies have been used to build an empire not meant for them to enjoy.

The dress spoke of resilience.

The dress spoke of pride in culture, language, and traditional ways.

The dress spoke of new days of seeing.

The dress spoke of new ways of being.

The dress healed.

 

Last Thursday, at the swearing-in ceremony for Deb Haaland as the first Indigenous person to serve as U.S. Secretary of the Interior, she spoke volumes without needing to utter a word. She spoke through the traditional clothes she wore for the occasion.

It is worth noting that until the mid-19^th Century the United States dealt with Native Americans under the Department of War, treating these original inhabitants of the land as enemies who stood in the way of gold, land, and manifest destiny for those of European descent (e.g. white men). In 1849, issues dealing with Native Americans were transferred to the Department of the Interior, with no change in the barrage of policies and campaigns meant to eradicate this population and their cultures from this land. Now, an Indigenous woman is leading this office.

Hailing from Laguna Pueblo, Secretary Haaland has carried her culture boldly and proudly with each new step of her career. On Capitol Hill, where dress pants and sports coats are the norm for women, she chose a sky blue, rainbow-trimmed ribbon skirt embroidered with imagery of butterflies, stars and corn. 

Moccasin boots, dragonfly earrings, and a turquoise and silver belt and necklace completed her outfit.

The choice of clothes and the clothes themselves offer healing to us all.

The headline of the New York Times article the next day read “Deb Haaland Makes History, and Dresses for It.”

Indeed she did.

p.s. The Instagram post from the maker of the dress Secretary Haaland wore is worth reading – click here.

Miss B: The Update

 I am sure you all are wondering.

I can feel the suspense in the air.

“What, Anthony, has happened with Miss B since you introduced her to the blogosphere?”

I shared about Miss B in the first week of September, a wonderful example of sacred play and imaginary escape that has developed in my house over the pandemic. A reminder to all of us to find similar play and escapes as a survival technique during the pandemic.

Our youngest daughter Sihasin was incredibly jealous at not having school like her three older siblings. She wanted a screen to stare into, a teacher talking to her just like the older ones.

My oldest daughter Nizhoni came up with a brilliant solution – she would become Miss B, hiding in some part of the house in very minimal disguise, teaching a weekly lesson to Sihasin.

Now for the update on Miss B.

The biggest thing to report is that Miss B still comes regularly. She has led dance classes, art projects, and has taught on a wide range of animals in these last months. Most important, she has pushed through, even when too tired to teach. She knows her student relies on her.

Sihasin, for her part, is very excited to play along. She will emphatically announce:

“Just so you know, Miss B isn’t my sister. Miss B doesn’t live in our house. 

She lives on the other side of town.”

It is amusing to see how important it is for her to keep the game going. We are impressed at her 3-year old psychology, realizing that the fun is over once she lets on to what is going on.

We play our part, insisting that Miss B is coming to teach on a given day, simultaneously coming up with an excuse for why Nizhoni has to disappear at the same time Miss B comes to teach. Tummy ache and homework-to-be-done are our most common covers.

Miss B has even recruited a substitute teacher Mr. J (our son Bah’hozhooni) and an assistant teacher Miss Lavender (Mila, our neighbor) who is set to teach today. You might say that the faculty is expanding, always a good sign for an educational institution.

Well, there you have it. The suspense and wonder is over.

Now, a fun question – what are you going to do with this story? Have you found similar escapes in your house? In your own mind? Does this inspire you to create one?

Play is sacred, my friends.

Play on.

The faculty, from L --> R: Miss Lavender, Miss B, and Mr. J

Anniversary

 

Life etiquette is sometimes not so straight-forward.

Opening a door for an elder – easy.

Cleaning up your dog’s poo when on a walk – easy.

One year pandemic anniversaries – not as clear-cut.

“Hi mom, I just wanted to call and wish you a happy pandemic anniversary. Congrats on making it through the last year. I have a cupcake with 1 candle coming your way today in the mail. Instead of the usual paper cupcake liner, I used a cute facemask around the cupcake which you can wash and use as PPE.”

vs.

“Hi mom, I just wanted to offer my condolences for you having to put up with a year of pandemic living. I hope this 2^nd year of the pandemic is better for you. By the way, if it makes you feel any better, we are in a pandemic over here as well.”

You can decide today which approach you take. (Probably best to take neither of the above.)

 

Crazy to think about a year since March 11^th, 2020 and these words from the World Health Organization (WHO):

WHO has been assessing this outbreak around the clock and we are deeply concerned both by the alarming levels of spread and severity, and by the alarming levels of inaction. We have therefore made the assessment that COVID-19 can be characterized as a pandemic. 

Has it flown by? Kind of.

Has time seemed to slow to a crawl? That as well.

Here is my plan for observing this anniversary:

I choose to celebrate life.

I choose the path my patient this morning with cancer shared – wake up each day grateful for a new day and the health enjoyed in that moment.

I choose to appreciate the fragile nature of life lived with others.

I choose hope as I look toward the small things beginning to return to normal and think of the hugs and moments of healing these months ahead will bring.

I choose optimism toward the ways we will be for one another, with each other after the pandemic subsides.

I choose to renew my faith that we can act collectively, putting each other’s health and well-being above selfish interests.

I choose to rededicate myself to equity as a principle that will guide us to a better way, understanding that this pandemic has only increased inequities and the work to be done in this realm.

I choose to laugh often, and help others do the same.

And with that, I wish one thing on this pandemic anniversary. 

I wish for you the chance to reflect yourself on what you want to choose in this moment. That is a precious opportunity, and one that will be chosen for us (by media, friends, family, coworkers, etc.) if we do not make time to choose for ourselves.

Blessings to each of you.

Back to seeing patients...

The New Dawn

 

Each day, we wake up, rubbing our eyes to a new day.

And what greets us as we open those eyes?

Light!

A new dawn greets us each day, but it is easy to overlook. Tempting to treat it as something mundane, something to be expected.

What are the first actions you take to greet the new day?

Hit snooze button? Grab for phone to see what you missed in the last hours? Grumble about having to work?

I hope that we can all create space for meaning around each new day, and I have a few inspirations for us as we work to understand what each new dawn offers us.

First, being a poet and an optimist, I see the new dawn as a new chance to discover ourselves, to receive gifts in life. I see life itself as a beautiful struggle, one that includes pain and hurt and trauma. All of us struggle to overcome our addictions (money, power, work, substances, etc.) and head to bed with hope and faith that we can find a new path. And each morning provides us with a chance to begin paving a new road, creating a new direction for our life.

Second, in many eastern traditions, the night is seen as a “small death”, with each new day giving us life again. 

Blinding brightness that greets us tomorrow and each morning

is new light

        is new life

                is rebirth

                        is renewal 

                                is being born again

When we close our eyes at night we surrender our life into Hands Higher, no longer in control of whether we will see light again. It puts perspective on the act of waking up each morning, huh? It puts perspective on whether checking our phone in those first sacred minutes is really needed.

Third, a reminder of the importance in many traditions to waking up early to greet the morning sun as it rises. In Muslim tradition, the first prayer of the day (Salat al-Fajr) is to be completed before the sun rises. In Navajo tradition, one rises and runs to the east to greet the morning sun and the new day as a spiritual and physical exercise.

What do your traditions teach about the holiness of the morning?

What do you want your tradition to be each time a new dawn greets you?

Brothers and sisters, let us greet the new day with a few minutes that sets the course of that day and of our life in a way that is intentional, reflective of our spiritual values and gratitude for life. 

Embrace those first minutes as sacred, holy, and precious. Treat them with utmost care and love. Doing so might be the best thing you do to love yourself each day!

May each new dawn bring light to each of our worlds.

Allow us to be awake and aware of the gift the new dawn offers us.

 

I offer a video with a poem “The New Dawn” as an extra for this piece. An excuse for a few minutes of self-care and relaxation. Enjoy!

I continue to be inspired by Amanda Gorman and her inauguration poem. The last lines of her piece were part of the inspiration for this piece. 

The new dawn blooms as we free it.

For there is always light, if only we’re brave enough to see it.

If only we’re brave enough to be it.

-Amanda Gorman