Meditation

Meredith roused herself and turned from her memories of the past. Instinctively she felt under her arm to be sure that her long time friend the pipe was still with her.

Reassured, she tossed her hair back and settled again on the stone column in the warm sun, overlooking the ruins. Once the village below had been full of life, with people carrying baskets of food, weaving, making pottery, cleaning weapons for hunting or fashioning tools for planting corn. 

Would her own people disappear as these had done?

Dreaming the Dream

She closed her eyes. A chatter of words streamed through her mind, but as she listened to the feeling behind the words, the nervousness and agitation which filled her head abated, and she was quiet.

Following her father's long ago instructions, now deeply engrained, she observed the rhythm of her breathing until she dropped into a deep reverie. A pulling sensation drew her attention to the energy rising slowly from her legs and up her spine, swirling like smoke from a campfire, until finally it breached her crown, filling her with bliss. 

Celestial Body

Meredith was no longer sure if she was awake or dreaming. Across the canyon a ruddy terracotta landscape stretched to the horizon. It was desert without vegetation, pockmarked like the face of the moon. A brilliant, diffused light shone everywhere. She scanned for its source and saw a patch of intense brightness which became a celestial body which rose quickly over the horizon, casting orange-pink rays in every direction.

Head of an Eagle

In the distance a figure slowly appeared against the desolate background. It moved slowly toward her, as if measuring the distance between them. As it came closer, Meredith could see that it was a man wearing buckskin trousers and a beaded tunic. His head was that of an eagle.

Kachina Mask

The man wore a kachina mask. Red, green, orange and blue dyed eagle feathers stood out on his head. His face was that of a bird of prey with a gold hooked bill. Behind the mask a pair of keen eyes gleamed steadily. He planted his multi-colored feathered staff firmly in the ground.

After standing motionless for several minutes, he raised his staff and arms high, displaying brown and white feathered wings. His eagle's tail, made of the same feathers, hung down to his feet. He wore anklets of carved bones strung on rawhide thongs.

Desecrated

Meredith, sensing that this was a holy man, a shaman, approached him humbly, bowing her head. The shaman looked at her steadily and severely with piercing eyes. Spreading wide his eagle wings, he hovered over her menacingly and said, "Go now! You and your people do not belong here. The gray people of your world have desecrated our sacred kivas and brought us great sorrow and pain. You must be gone." He frowned and turned to go.  

Harm Done

But Meredith, emboldened by desperation followed him saying, "Wise man, you speak the truth. It is for this very reason that I have come to beg for your guidance. The same ruin that my people have brought upon your people is now threatening the whole earth, and our vision is too limited and selfish for us to find our way.  

"Your people were wise beyond the limits of ordinary knowledge. You understood the animals and plants, the weather and the earth and were in harmony with them. If anyone can guide us, it is you. I beg you, teach me to understand your way and show me the healing path I must take. I have come for your guidance and ancient wisdom, otherwise I do not know where to turn." 

Shaman Far Heart

The shaman slowly lowered his wings and turned toward her, once more scrutinizing her face and finally seeming satisfied, appeared to come to a decision. He held out his staff, adorned with colored bands of leather braids, and Meredith stepped forward to touch the staff. 

"I am Shaman Far Heart of the Anasazi, healer of the earth," said the old man.

"And I am Meredith Markey. I also try to heal the earth."

Markey

"You must be the daughter of Andrew Markey and Jean Jacobs, my old friends," said the shaman.

"Why, yes, I am. Did you know them?" 

"I know them still. They have been my friends for many long years, and we have been working together toward the same purpose, bringing harmony and peace to our stricken mother earth."

Meredith, overcome by confusion, cried out, "What are you saying? You sound as though they are still alive. Can this be true? Is it possible that they were not killed by the avalanche as we thought? This would truly be a miracle."

"I have seen them," said the shaman.

"Where?" But the shaman was silent as she searched his face.

Why Now?

The old man broke the silence. "Why have you waited so long to make this journey? Why did you not come sooner?" 

Meredith forced herself to think of her mission, not of her parents. "We did not see, we did not understand how terrible, how urgent, these problems were. Now it is clear there is no delaying. Disaster is at hand, and if we do not act, we will all be gone."

"Just as my people perished hundreds of years ago," said the shaman. "Perhaps I can help." He motioned for her to sit down. Meredith sat on her stone column and the shaman on a nearby boulder.