Tuesday, April 8, 2014

Meekewios (Mah-key-wee-os)

When I was little I would escape to the field behind my house and hid in the tall grass. The warm sun soothing me like I wish my mama would.

That is where Grandmother found me.

Her long dark hair filled with lightening bolts of silver. She parted the grass and joined me. We laid silently watching the clouds drift past.

"I don't belong here." I finally whispered my lips quivering.

"I know child." she replied. "I wish I could take you away."

"Why must I stay? I want to belong somewhere...I want a family, I want to breath and I want to know what my purpose for being here is...I don't want to be hurt anymore." I hide my face in my t-shirt so she can't see my tears.

"Tiwi was" She whispers. (Ta-wee-wass)

I peak out from my cocoon.

"Tiwi was" She whispers again, her dark eyes locking onto mine. "it means, Bowstring that will not break, and that is who you are. You will not break. You will remain strong."

"I don't feel strong Grandmother." I run my hands down her scared arms and then look to her eyes. I ask without saying a word about them. Her dark eyes smile but the pain comes through, in it I see my own empty reflection. "I feel lost and scared and very alone." I wail throwing my self into her arms.

She gathers me up and carries me through the grass and down the bank to the creek. She kneels with me in the gritty creek sand. Gently leaning me over the gurgling water she points to my reflection. "she is with you always."

My eyes narrow and I glare at the girl in the water. "what good is she?! she is just as lost as I am!"

Grandmother pushed me back on my haunches and wrapped my arms around me. "Close your eyes" she commanded. "Now squeeze yourself tight. Repeat after me. I've got you. I've GOT you. I am right here. I am RIGHT here."

As I did so I heard her dunk her hand in the water and then place it on my head. "I am right here." I say as the cold water trickles down my neck. I open my eyes and she is gone.

I smile at her funny ways and lean over the water. I look at the girl undulating in the moving water. I stare deep into her eyes. Not exactly who I wanted on my team. "Guess its you and me kid" I snort and get up. "common, lets go" I say to her and head up steam.

I wade and get lost in the sounds of the creeks sanctuary. I stop to gobble black berries and smell the honey suckles that grow along the banks. At last I come to the tunnel.

I climb up the thick concrete sides and stand in its mouth. Many, many times I have trekked here, its like some shrine I visit. I dance through the shallow water to the middle and wait for the echoing splashes to fade away.

The middle is the sweet spot...and the echoes there come at you from all directions. "Hello!" I call.

"Hello!" the tunnel cheerfully returns my call.

This is one place that will speak to me. A place where I am not alone. "I've got you. I've GOT you. I am right here. I am RIGHT here." I call.

"...got you... GOT you... right here... RIGHT here." it calls back.

"I am Tiwiwas!" I smile and proclaim.

"Meekewios " it calls back.

I startle and look around.

"TIWIWAS!!" I shout

"MEEKEWIOS!!" it shouts back.

I turn and splash noisily from the concrete tomb and run home as fast as my bare feet can fly over the dusty trails.

Summers never last long enough and neither do childhoods. I couldn't stay a child forever. There came a day when I was 14 and I again sought out the serenity of the field grass to silently hide and just be still.

Like a cat she slithered soundlessly through the grass and curled up next to me.

"hello Grandmother." I say in my monotone, the life long gone from it.

"hello, my child." she replies .

"I am dying inside. May already be dead. There is such terrible darkness within me, I am a horrible person. Everyone hates me. I will not give to them. I will live up to my name Grandmother, I will be the bowstring that will not break. I am a rock and an island"

She sat up and leaned me up. She took my arms and mimicked the act of notching an arrow on a bow and drawing it back. We aimed the phantom arrow just over the grass line and let it fly.

"again" she commanded.

I look at her with hollow eyes, not understanding were she is going with this.

"again" she commanded.

I draw a invisible arrow from my invisible quiver and notch it on my invisible bow. I draw it back and hold it. My cold eyes challenging hers.

"That bow string is not breaking, but its yielding to provide the energy for the arrow to fly."

My fingers release the string and my heart watches the arrow dart off, disappearing over the tall grass.

Grandmother leans over and swiftly pulls up a hand full of clover grass leaves. She stands and deposits on my head. "Tiwiwas, unstrung a bowstring is soft and supple and flexible. Strung its taunt and tight and ready to fight, but in the fight, in the act of its purpose it gives... it yields...you can be strong and flexible at the same time...and still not break."

I shake my head and the green leaves rain down around me. I turn to question the old woman further but she is gone.

Time runs together when your living in hell. Each year blending into the next.

I held on and didn't break. No matter what was pitched at me I swung. Sometimes I used my bat...till it broke then I threw my body in front of the pitches. I took every blow and refused to break.

I was twenty-two when again my thoughts got on a dead end route and turned to suicide as the answer.

I decide to kill myself. I leave my house and head to the trails that will take me deep into the mountains. As I walk the paved road the crows caw over head. I am too lost to listen to my friends. My eyes never leave the road. I do not caw back to them. They continue to call me as I walk. Not today my friends, today you can't help me. Today I need something more tangible them spiritual support. Today I need a sign to alter my path.

I reach the trail head and see a yellow paper fluttering on a bush.

I stop and grab it and turn it over.

Its four squares of yellow construction paper threaded together on a white piece of yarn.  Scrawled in crayon are the letters K - R - O - W.

I froze.

Suddenly aware the crows were no longer calling to me.

I turned slowly around and look.

The wind stirs and then blows hard on my back, attempting to push me away from the trail.

I slip the yarn necklace over my head and smooth out the yellow papers on my chest.

The crow take flight leaving the tree line dotting the sky in Morse code all the way down the road.

My heavy feet follow them as they fly away from the trail head, and lead me back to my home.

Arriving at my drive way, I find Grandmother waiting in the grass near the mail box.

I stop and stare at this woman as tears fill my eyes. I press my hand to my chest as my throat tries to choke off the sobs. Under my hand the KROW papers crinkle.

"W-who is Meekewios." I stammer. So exhausted from the life and death struggle that had just played out.

She pats the grass in an invitation. I curl up and lay my head in her warm lap.

"We are all two people. The one we are born, and the one we become. Oh little one...If you were born into my tribe you would have been a fierce warrior. You would have learned to hunt and ride. You would have been taught to carve arrow heads and make your own bow. But you were born out of sync. You feel like you don't fit in here on this planet. Like you were left behind. Feel like you are adrift with no anchor and lost. That no one understands you. That no one sees "you".

When I was a child I lived in a family that hurt me. I grew distant and stopped trying to belong. I shut out everyone on this planet. I grew cold and hard and hateful. Everyone was my enemy. Even me. You once asked me about the scars on my arms." She ran her old hands over the ghost that hung on her skin.

"Everyone of them are self inflicted. My hatred of life and self had to be expressed. I cut and burned gaping wounds in my skin to vent the pain my soul was in. I couldn't cry tears. I couldn't scream so the blood spoke for me. But you already knew that didn't you? Your own scars encase you like barbwire. I know you understand." She grabs the tall dark grass and rips up a handful.

"I do grandmother." saddened that her life sounded exactly like mine. The tears fall angrily. While my soul writhes in the pain of her life....and mine. My heart aches as it tries to make sense of this. I close my eyes and tighten my grip on her skirt.

"Who is Meekewios." I ask again.

The grass rains down on my head and I hear her say softly. "Oh my child, do not fret, If she is looking for you, she will find you, no matter where you are."

I drift off to sleep in the warm sun. She is gone when I awake. That is her way. I have long since stopped asking questions.

Pain, frozen in time, alters the flow of life, the years become stagnate ponds. I drift aimlessly until I decide to change. To halt the back sliding tide of the suicidal thoughts. There came a day I had reached the bitter end. I use the last of the strength to reach out, one last time, just as I let go of the rope.

I am caught and passed hand to hand my the professionals who treated me. actually, a better term would be ....re-parented me. By now my body has grown and I am only young in my mind. I am starting to resemble Grandmother in my reflection. My long dark hair, now has silver lightening bolts shooting thought it. There is something comforting about seeing her within me. I wish to be as loving and supporting and healing as she is.

One of my therapist does hypnotherapy sessions with me. We are chasing monsters in my head. Each week will pick a memory  and see if we can change it.

I am hypnotized and then in deep trance she tells me, "Are there any memories there that want to be changed?"

I twist instantly in the recliner as the maw of pain opens and retched up a memory. i am too widdle awon in mi bed. She will fine mi here. not not saf. not saf. NOT SAF.

Therapists voice enters my memory. "You are safe here. We are just looking at the past. What can you change in this memory."

she will com thew the door i can klose it.

"can you do that?"

no I too widdle...so skawed....wait...not awon here. A noffer woman is here.

I watch as this new woman goes past my bed and shuts the door then leans firmly against it. Watching me. Protecting me.

its saf now, I kin sweep

"who is the woman?" she asks in her dreamy hypno-voice.

I try to focus on her. She is strong and powerful and not afraid. She knows who she is and how to handle things. She is beautiful. I have seen her before, i nows her...

"can she tell you her name?"

i nows her name, i fink dats Meekewios

"And then what happened?" she gently asks.

The woman at the door comes to my bed and tucks me in. She smells of hay, horses and wide open spaces. I smile and close my eyes. I feel the clover grass kiss my face as she sprinkles it on my head. "oh my child sleep well."

Her voice gives her away...Grandmother?

an den I woks up.

I bolt upright breaking free of the hypnotic state instantly. I scramble from the chair and stand with hair on end in the small office. My mind whirling and churning.

I am in the eye of the universe. In this moment this time, this pocket of primal knowledge, I am plugged in an aware on multiple levels of shared, flowing undulating consciousness. Tapping into all that is human and life...and for a fleeing second it all make sense as I pass though knowing all the mysteries that cause man to wonder.

The therapist give me a moment before asking if I am okay.

Her words break the spell and the power of speech is restored to me. I exhale loudly. Goose bumps race up my arms. I hold them out and show her.

"What it is?" she asks sensing something bigger is happening.

"When I was a child, Grandmother used to find me, where ever I was and comfort me. She...." I catch my breath. The love of the memories rushing into my heart. "She was always there when it was darkest. She encouraged me. I lived on because of her strength." The tears flow now.

"Has your grandmother passed away?" she asked guessing as to the source of the tears.

I shake my head, "you don't understand...I have several Grandma's...no one saw Grandmother, but me. She was a spiritual presence."

My mind whirled and the thought of what this meant opened up a tunneling void in my head.

The middle is the sweet spot...and the echoes there come at you from all directions. "Hello!" I call.
"Hello!" the tunnel cheerfully returns my call.
This is one place that will speak to me. A place where I am not alone. "I've got you. I've GOT you. I am right here. I am RIGHT here." I call.
"...got you... GOT you... right here... RIGHT here." it calls back.
"I am Tiwiwas!" I smile and proclaim.
"Meekewios " it calls back.

The therapist takes my hands and pulls me out. At last I find the words to speak the dazzling thoughts in my mind.

"Could the work we are doing here today and in the weeks to come, could...could that explain this woman in my childhood? That grandmother was really me, in the here and now going back into the past to help young me? Am I saving myself?...Did I save myself?"

She let go of my hands like they were hot, and held them out as the realization caused her own arms to goosebump. We hug and dance in the gleeful delight of this mystical gift from the universe.

I know who I am. Who I have always been.

I am not lost.  I am not alone. I know this because she whispers to me. Oh my child, do not fret, Grandmother Meekewios will find you, no matter where you are...

and you all know her too...she has visited you in your hearts. She has come to share the dark days and offer her comforting words. Not to try to heal you, but just to be with you as you journey though life.

You call her by the translation of her name...Dogdancing.

...she will find you, no matter where you are...


  1. Oh my, that writing was powerful. Thank you for sharing. Love, Mary

  2. This is incredible. It captured me and drew me in. I wanted to lay in the grass with you, to splash in the cool water, to scream to the echo's and to experience Grandmother. You have a great talent!