Surrender to Love

The children and I walked for a long time today. The first proper walk since our migratory return to the Winter Grounds as we have been focused and busy making our home. We have only been here for a handful of days yet if feels like forever.

We set out, with no clear plan or route in mind. Slowly we walked together and I found myself entering into a bit of an altered state. It was the swing that took me there. Or rather the sounds of laughter that came from that bit of rope tied to that old oak where the hillside is worn down from the countless little feet dragging as bodies thrust into the air. The echoes were familiar as they traveled through the small valley and were held by the trees.

We carried on, gathering around the still standing May Pole. I could hear the singing and feel the dancing that was woven into those faded colors of cloth wrapped around the towering pole. Village life was full in those days and I love dearly the people I have lived with on this hillside.

I began to understand a quality and reason for this walk that I was unaware of when we first began. A quality of healing, of coming full circle, of honoring a process. Perhaps the beginning of a walking ceremony of completion, of death, of transformation. Perhaps it would help to release the dancing woven ribbons of the May Pole to the fire and to open the hearths to the east. Release.

We continued on, making our way past the many mounds made with muscle, sweat, shovels, pick axes. Where lodges once stood and where people we love once dwelled. We were walking amidst the ruins of a once thriving tipi village.

Gently, sadness flows through me and out my eyes back into this hillside.

The stories and feelings of this place, of this journey, grew, exponentially as the children shared their own as we walked, giving me a small glimpse into their wild and free relationship with their place.

We ate rose hips as we searched along the dry creek bed for treasures of tumbled stone. It was the sound of muffled singing and drumming from a distant past that brought us to stand at the bones of an old sweat lodge. A place where together we entered the womb of the mother and prayed. I could feel its’ warmth somehow although it was damp, the hearth overgrown with moss and my breath steaming as I exhaled. Outside of myself are the cold remains of tribal life. Inside are the stories of connection, life, love.

We gathered herbs to bring home for tea. Our quiet walking on the leafy path joined us with a buck who turned and came toward us with a relaxed confidence. For a brief moment I thought I was a deer, perhaps a doe, for we seemed so comfortable together.

With chilled hands in our pockets we uncovered with our boots the old rock-tiled platform and hearth built for the horse trough bath tub. Such luxury to bath in the snow by the creek!

A dense, dry standing dead oak revealed itself. The kids and I wrestled with it for awhile. Now it brings warmth and light to our home.

We continued on, following the faded network of paths formed overtime as hearts and hearths connected; traveling bodies moving through life in similar ways. Gathering wood. Fetching water. Having a poo, visiting a neighbor, having a bath, playing, joining, celebrating, arguing.

A web of shared life shimmering with texture.

The sound of the first lodge to rise with the chopping of wood or the crying of a child.

In the evenings, hunkering down for the long nights journey away from the sun and one by one the glowing lanterns of homes across the hillside fading out.

The sounds of children being born; a father announcing the arrival with the blowing of the conch.

The bright colors of village children in costume for a beating-of-the-bounds parade or a Spring Equinox play.

The long, long nights on vigil hill; bodies bundled from the wet and cold while waiting for the return of the sun.

The sacred communing and mind melding of the talking stick, spiraling around and around, sometimes till morning.

The big lodge and all the diverse realities it accommodated.

It’s only our one family lodge standing here now, glowing in the night.

There are so many reasons, known and unknown, for the dispersal of lives. It was the sheriffs arrival at the Summer Grounds in September, on the behalf of the land “owner”, coming to remove us that broke the last of this shimmering web.

Spider shows us that webs are alive. They ebb and flow, break and mend at the whim of the elements. To be strong, they are continually re-made. Sometimes daily.

We have returned to the Winter Grounds although the new land “owners” have asked us not to. For this struggle and lack of consensus between us I am sorry. I love them and see myself in them. Respectfully, our family answers to the earth. It is her with whom we give our authority. I pray that we all remember this power.

We needed to return here to be able to feel and to heal. A circle completing and never ending.
It is a deep blessing.
May we continue to walk with gratitude for where we have been, where we are now and where we are going. I remember, yet again, that the process and journey through life is all we have. May we cherish it.

To all the lives who lived on this hillside, I love you. Deeply. You are in me. It was an honor to share life with you in this way and has made my life more whole.

To the life before me now, this land, these trees, this water, thank you for opening. Thank you for receiving the lives from my womb made by the love of two bodies united under your moon. Thank you for weaving me and my family into you and you into us. And thank you to the previous land “owner”, who preferred to call himself a steward, for being a part of the openness here.

To the people who have recently arrived here as the new land “owners”, please be good to her. Take care of her and listen to her. May you be taken in and held as we were by her fierce and gentle embrace.

And to the unknown path ahead of us, may we walk it with open arms and curious minds. May the love that opened to us here in this place give us the strength and power to move forward on dancing feet.

Kayla

A glimpse from where we’re at…

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With regards to the liberation of the summer and winter ranges of Tipi  Village, the situation would appear – especially to the left brain-  dire.
For this land that we love as the places on earth to which we can point  out and show our children the exact spot where some of them were born,  it would be inappropriate and disrespectful to squabble over it like  immature, placeless adults.
Because what we have found is a sense of place in the order of All That Is. That is the gift of this land and the process unleashed by it and that is our debt to this place.
There are connections within that understanding of place which are  difficult to accommodate; whether praise, admiration or criticism,  admonition. Both extremes require being met with equanimity.
There was the ‘hunter’ from the town of Rogue River, perhaps sixty miles away, who was so appalled by our presence in the wilderness that he  wrote to the editor of the Mail Tribune. He claimed his family have  hunted where we now live for over a hundred years. Although he didn’t  say what they hunted, in that time when bands of families still  roamed these mountains not only hunting but gathering, tending the wild, living, subsisting for millenea before the arrival of a people also  displaced. I don’t know if those displaced people asked if it was  alright if they could stay and hunt and  be entitled to replace. By all  accounts they didn’t ask and they perceived godless savages scrabbling  in squalour.
This was before the land needed liberation, because it wasn’t claimed yet.
There are those who tell us we’re pioneers; we’re at the leading edge of a movement beyond politics into the realm of the physical, blazing a way forward for humanity to begin to integrate and re-integrate with the  whole.
There was the reserved man one day when we were tabling outside the  Ashland Food Co-op , troubled because, he said, for thirty years he’s  swallowed what the banks have forced on him so that he can own his  place. If the Land Liberation Project catches on then his land will be  worthless, he said, he’ll have spent most of his life in vein. His one  precious life.
Then there are the ‘deep ecologists’, some of whom project that humans  are alien to Mother Earth, we have no place here, we’re just messing  things up for every other form of life on earth.
It’s easy to get hung up on structures of complicated political thought  and the state of the status quo. What’s real for Tipi Village is the  weather is changing, the rain has come, the geese are flying calling  their longing for winter place and here we are, a tiny culture of new  old beginnings, like a rabbit in the headlights of the juggernaut of  mainstream industrialised America. Surrounded by thousands, tens of  thousands of uninhabited acres of world. We don’t know where we’re going for winter range and the left brain is freaking out a bit so the  process requires a constant letting-go to intuition, feeling, always  deeper to a place where unfolding happens.
So we’re stuck because, politically, a few people are bothered by how we are inspired to live. It appears to challenge the sensibilities of the  camo-clad weekend hunter from town, perhaps expecting to see manicured  lawns and white-picket fences, buildings or perhaps, more to the point  to see nothing so he can have the place to himself a couple of weekends a year. Or the deep ecologist, given up on life, alienated from an  integral and intimate process of humanity and world, perhaps afraid of death; the feeling of the  safety of soft earth falling on our spent bodies, her reclamation of  matter borrowed by spirit. There is also the fear of ‘property’ losing value,  individual monetary value, which has only ever been an illusion since  the Land Enclosures in Europe. There is a greater value in land that is culture and place within that web of  myriad interconnectedness, the relationship with  money being only one strand in that web. Remember this. The inherent  value of everything in reality is diminished when we ascribe  to it only monetary value.
The primary value of land is culture and we can grow great and powerfull when we integrate the true richness of culture, of relationship, relations, of working out and becoming conscious of the names of those relationships and honouring them for what they actually are. When we find place then we cease to be displaced. Few people, especially in America, are not displaced culturally or  physically. Those who know your place, you are the richest people on the planet and you have more to share than anyone.
Sinking deeper into understanding the forces of displacement, it is beneficial  for the greater good if we can understand the individuals with personal agendas. The value  of their ‘property’ and the fear of it being diminished. Their desire to be ‘alone’ in the ‘wilderness';  alienated and disconnected from a confrontation with  their own prejudices and inadequacies in the face of a life-way with an  intention and practice of integrity, directness and open honesty.
America will truly be the ‘Land of the Free’ when the basic human right  to subsist is, at least, not blocked and at best, encouraged as a way of respectfull, accountable living. When, culturally, an aspiration  towards sustainable relationships -physically, socially, spiritually- is allowed, encouraged and accepted. When we can move away from patterns  of life which displace us into becoming dis-connected fragments of the  machine of industry.
“It is easier to contemplate the end of the world than it is to consider the end of capitalism”
And here we still are at an elevation of five thousand feet and already  the days are shorter than the nights. And as I write this I don’t know  where we’ll be migrating to for the winter. Happy equinox!
Ande

Tipi Village on the front page of the Sunday paper again…..

Yet another article in the Sunday Mail Tribune.  When the author, Mark Freeman called on Friday, we didn’t give him much.  We have had a surprising amount of prejudice come our way. There was a hesitancy in speaking with him.

 

Is it possible to fall back off the radar?
It’s an alright article, but it in no way paints the beautiful picture of this life or this time of migration (and its uniqueness in not knowing where we are going) or the process we are involved in with this land beneath our feet and homes, or the way the weather is our ‘boss’, or the changing of the seasons and it goes on…… 
I think Mark did alright considering he had so little from the brief phone interview. 
Have a read.  And feel free to help with the moral support and leave a comment there, maybe even reply to the prejudices if you are inspired….

 

Did you get your raffle tickets yet?

Support The Land Liberation Project and join the raffle!  Some awesome prizes include a Rogue Dwellings tipi, a new adult tricycle, an hour massage by an LMT, Lindy Kehoe artwork, Fair Ophelia Designs hooded scarf, an obsidian antler-handled knife and more being donated all the time!!

Tickets are $3 or 3 for $10  ;)

Be sure to include your email, phone and the words RAFFLE ENTRY with your payment! We will put this info on your ticket(s), draw names on the 1st of October and contact you then.  Thanks!

Let your friends know about this!  We have only four weeks left to liberate the summer home land of Tipi Village.  Help us keep this place open for humans to live directly and intimately with the wilderness!

 


Contact us if you would like to donate a prize to the raffle.

541-864-9250

LandLiberationFund@gmail.com

 

Land Liberation Campaign is Launched!

Friends and family, known and unknown, we are excited to announce that we have launched our Land Liberation Campaign!  We have 41 days left to raise the funds needed to liberate the summer home of Tipi Village.  This ‘liberation’ declares it will be owned by no ‘one’ individual, will never again be sold, the natural resources protected and an open place for all who are inspired to live migratory, in tipis, will be maintained.  This liberation is not only for this specific piece of land nor for this specific tipi community.  It extends beyond that.  It is cultivating and conserving a life-way  that is harmonious with the earth.  Tipi Village encourages a way of life that is direct and intimate with the wild.  When a culture is rooted and connected to a place and it’s plants, water and animals, there is less suffering and confusion.  A deeper sense of purpose is directly related to a deep sense of place.  Tipi Village wishes to continue it’s relationship with this place.  We have heard many times that it isn’t for everyone.  Ok. We are not proposing that it is.  But we, speaking of humanity, must maintain an open place for this life-way to exist.

We have been sweetly tucked away in our little bubble in the woods for many years now.  It seems that the recent events of the land owners death, the land being for sale and the contention/competition with the neighbors has pulled us out of this bubble.  Or perhaps it has encouraged our bubble to grow.  Maybe it’s time to share this vision more widely.  At this point, it seems obvious to follow the process in raising funds to buy and liberate this land.   We know how to just pitch our lodge on a flat bit of land and roll our beds out, but why not give it all we have and then let it go?

The thing is, we really need help from a wider community, which includes you.  We are doing all we can from our home deep in the woods.  And we are going at it from many angles.  Radio interviews, newspaper articles, filming and making a campaign video, emails, phone calls, facebooking, plunging deep into ceremony, talking circles, tabling at the market and local food co-op, singing prayers, letting go, listening to the land……

Again, there are only 41 days left to raise $300,000 to liberate this land.  We aim to raise a bit more than that to pay for all the costs related to the project.  We have fiscal sponsorship from The Way Foundation, making contributions tax-deductible.

Please help us to spread the word far and wide.  If everyone who felt inspired gave what they could, no matter how large or small, this land could be liberated and a place for all to live intimately with the natural world maintained.  Together we can do this.

What you can do:

1:Make a straight, simple donation of ANY amount.


2: Buy a ‘Coyote Share’.     Shares are $1000 each. A share is an ongoing connection to The Project. It’s a way of stating a clear intention of support and it’s a stake in the future. It allows for continuation. The term ‘Coyote Share’ comes from the new paradigm thinking of ‘owning’ ‘free’ land. It subverts the notion that land can ever actually be ‘owned’ and it empowers the relationship between one and Mother Earth.

3: Buy a raffle ticket.

Tickets are $3 each. Prizes include a 13′ Rogue Dwellings tipi, with poles. An obsidian, antler handled knife. An adult tricycle. A 1hr professional massage.  Lindy Kehoe artwork. Fair Ophelia Designs hooded scarf. More prizes are being contributed all the time (another way to participate). The draw will be on the 1st of October and winners will be announced on www.LandLiberationProject.blogspot.com. To buy tickets online use the PayPall donate button above and include your name, phone number and the words ‘raffle entry’ in the note; we’ll fill out a ticket and put it in the hat.

4: Spread the word about the cause, pass our blog address (www.LandLiberationProject.blogspot.com) on to everyone you know even if you think they might not be interested. Find us on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/landliberationproject 

Striking sparks in dry tinder can make a big fire.

5: Watch, like and share our short campaign video at

http://www.indiegogo.com/projects/land-liberation-project/x/4291885

 

Sending warm love and gratitude to all,

Kayla