Words and photo by Deer Roberts
It was really quite extraordinary. For a bit less than two weeks, with radar sensitivity, the children had been acting out the community energy post the tragic, violent death of a child on the reservation. By Wednesday they had settled down a bit, as had the community, as the young one had been memorialized and funeralized on Monday. But Friday had brought in the last day of kindergarten before the Christmas holiday vacation. So they had gone squirrelly again. In anticipation of handing out presents, we instructed them all to lie quietly on the carpet and take a rest.
I put on Louie Gonnie’s CD, Elements: Meditation Songs from the Diné, and told them, “Listen to the music through that place just below your belly buttons.” One must be very careful around this kind of thing, as the Navajo boast two religious views here, expressed quite in opposition of one another, Christian and Native traditional. But I figured human meditation is universal. For fifteen minutes, until I quietly turned down the sound, they lay, their small hands instinctively catching the music in their bellies. Not one of them moved an inch after their initial surprised response of “I can feel it!” Even their Diné teacher dozed into it a bit. I sat on just observing in amazement as the most hyperactive children lay as quietly as the more placid. After it was all over, I told the little rapt listeners when they did this they brought goodness to the earth and to themselves. I added that this was also the place where they could feel into when they were trying to decide if something they wanted to do was right or wrong. One little girl popped up, making a connection, and said in consternation, “I don’t know how to pray.” I assured her she just had.
While this exercise had not been planned, we just needed to settle the kids. I could not but hope afterward that a seed may have been planted, something they would remember as they grew surviving any dysfunction or violent loss challenging their innocence while growing up on the rez.
Thank you, Mr. Gonnie.
more later . . .
