I want to share a story, a real story, on my way to the standing rocks of the Apache, the old lands of Geronimo, that land now known as the valley between Mexico and America. The story is called:
Unavoidable Risks:
Driving back on Hwy 80 today, I saw a man cross the road, quickly and in the grass, he was without a doubt taking a dangerous risk, one that he had thought of thousands of times, leaving behind his family and friends and home, running undercover through the mountains to where I didn't' know. Did he? I looked to my right and there were the mountains of mexico, and to my left were the mountains and thousand feet of rock slabs I have been hiking around in looking for petroglyphs. The roads were full of border patrol, sonar and radar towers, they were all over. And yet this man, like a deer crossing the road, was there one second and through a barbed wire fence and he was gone. I worried for him and contemplated turning around to give him food that I was carrying back with me, but no way would I do that and give attention to him. I thought how dangerous this was, how he would have to travel never knowing where he would find the next water. How fortunate those that live in their houses get to feel safe, turn on the tap, and never have to face these dangerous risks. And as I thought more I pondered how sometimes we have to take these dangerous risks, because staying is with certainty worse than the unknown. These moves of change come out of desperation sometimes, whether its a bad relationship we need to get out of, or a job change, or off the streets, out of addictions, these shocking moments are those discrete energy charged atoms waiting to be freed from that thing that is binding oneself. And taking a risk is worth even the ultimate fatality, there is at least the moment where we felt free, in control, with some power, with some focus to the future, albeit unknown, it was something to move towards. Adapt or die I continue to say. For that fella I saw today…. move swift, be strong, you are not alone, may you find water, a safe place to be, and know that you are loved.
144 skeletons and decaying bodies have been found in 2016. According to Customs and Border Patrol, in 2005, 219 migrants died in the 90-thousand-square-mile area of the Arizona border while 439,079 were apprehended; last year, 107 died and 87,915 were apprehended.
“Increased border militarization and strategically placed Border Patrol checkpoints force migrants to travel farther and through dangerous, mountainous and remote areas that lack any sources of water,” When they call 911 it goes to Border Patrol, who never come. NoMoreDeaths.org http://forms.nomoredeaths.org/en/
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Apache Tears
For the Water Protectors, an original I painted in oil 12/2/2016
The pictograph I found in a cave in Cave Creek Canyon, I called her the water protector as she looked to the south facing sky and to the Dog Star of the night
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San Juan Island Qigong Practice Group
Every Sunday rain, snow, or sunshine
This was my bd party after practice, and the wiley dog was with us too!
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The Lung Network: Views from the Past, From Shen Jin'ao,
Doctor Shen's Compendium of Honoring Life (Shen Shi Zunsheng Shu), 1773: (click for the full article)
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MogaDao Qigong Group of Ashland
early morning sunrise practice at the Railroad Park
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In one Year, so many friends have been made in so many places and we are all still collectively gathering practicing qigong. As I look at the photos of our groups and remember each day I had the honor to practice life with you, I am reminded of how lucky I am, how many blessings you brought and that we shared. Only in reflection can we see how really amazing our lives are and how loved we truly are. Thank you for your wonderful and amazing friendships. May we continue to gather together near and far.
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The Buddha Cave, the first place we practiced Qigong in Bisbee, Sept 2016. Thanks to Andre for providing the Club K and for the brilliant sunrise in the park practices. (we have to get a people photo!)
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