In the dream,
I had a
sacred calling:
to be a
mask carrier,
one who
could handle
the most holy
of objects.
Two rival tribes
warred constantly,
but one
kept winning
as it held
many more
of the
sacred masks.
And so,
I removed
some of
their masks
and brought
them to the
other tribe.
I woke up
before seeing
if the wars
stopped, but
I knew that
the power
was equalized.
The thing is,
I’ve come
to realize
that balance
is everything.
The Navajo live
by ceremony
and Hózhó,
harmony and beauty.
The Balinese wrap
their altars in
black and white
checkered fabric,
symbolizing balance.
The Hawaiian way
is ho’oponopono,
with reconciliation and
forgiveness at its heart.
We cultureless ones
long for that,
for a long exhalation
of relief.
How to return
to the center,
where we might
find calm and
the blessings of
a balanced life?
How can I,
how can we,
be sacred
mask carriers?
