I breathed a prayer over our land, “How can I best be here, in the desert, with people more native than I?” My prayer took me into Dreamtime. It was as if generations were waiting for me to ask. A large band of Native Americans rose up from the earth, circling our property.

Previous moves were work related and necessitated that my loving other and I jump in and make it happen. This time was different. The high desert of New Mexico called without giving either of us specific instructions. We came with the intention of letting our work and relationships unfold.

Upon arriving, neighbors told us of historic ceremonial sites nearby. Had all of these people come from the past, in response to my prayer?

After a few rituals, a Native American woman ushered me to the center of the circle, where I had an amiable exchange with a Seer. As he turned to walk away, Whale appeared in front of me.

I knew, from Native American teachings, that Whale was the Record Keeper. Would Whale enlighten me with the history she had filed away?

Prior to moving to New Mexico, I watched my personal rivers; past, present and future flow simultaneously into time’s ocean. Now, buoyed before me, Whale was bringing my streams together with those who had preceded me.

For years, Christian scripture, regarding water in the desert, repeatedly spoke to me. In any manner but ordinary, verses like, Psalm 107:35Isaiah 41:18 and Isaiah 43:19 were presently developing before me.

If Spirit will not be bound by space or time, why would I limit myself to understandable experiences? Foundational teachings continually gave me solid footing, but once again, the Holy invited me to deepen our relationship in Love’s unfathomable ocean.

One day, I simply prayed over our land, “How can I best be here, in the desert, with people more native than I?” Letting go of the shore gave generations before me, and their beloved Whale, permission to inform my journey. I opened myself to Dreamtime in hopes of finding clarity. Instead, I discovered far more, trust and a vast ocean of witnesses.

Sacred Ruminations*