The Healing Power of Open Hearts

 

“Heart energy is the new currency of the future,” says Lee Harris (leeharrisenergy.com).  I have been pondering this statement ever since I heard it and wondering what it might mean.

Last October, I watched the unveiling ceremony of a new art exhibit.  I watched it on my computer since I was sick at the time and confined to the house.  Call to Action #83 is now on its third round.  This innovative project combines the work of Indigenous and non-Indigenous artists around the theme of Truth and Reconciliation.  One artist starts the round and then takes their work to the next artist on the list, explaining their process, their thinking, their feelings. They have a conversation and take time to understand each other. The second artist responds visually and then visits the third artist with only their own work and another conversation takes place.  And so it goes.  The entire process takes around a year to complete.

As the artwork is unveiled, one at a time, each artist gets to speak to their own piece, their process and how the conversations affected their understanding.  The works emerge from relationships, from the inter-connectedness of the artists.  I have viewed the first two rounds of CTA#83 as well and so I can see how these visual conversations have developed over the years.  On this round, what struck me the most was the heart energy that moved through the round.  The artists were opening their hearts to each other and it showed.  From the vantage point of my couch, I imagined what my visual response would be if I was the last artist.  An image popped into my mind that was fairly complex and I had to think about what medium I might use to bring this image to life.

I thought about the image for a few days.  I take part in a Women’s Art Show each year and I wondered about making this piece for that show later this spring.  The 2023 theme for the Women's Art Show is Re-imagine.  I could work with that.  I can re-imagine a Canada in which the hearts of non-Indigenous people crack open in relationship to Indigenous people and that healing plants would grow from these open hearts to bring the healing that we all need

I decided to work in fabric along with embroidery silks and beads.  I would quilt the piece as well to give it a 3D feel.  I decided to make the piece circular to represent a round, a talking circle, getting to know each other, listening to one another, the shape of the planet.  Inside the blue circle, I cut a large green heart to represent the heart of the Earth, our mother, who cares for us all.  Then I chose different red fabrics to cut out 13 smaller hearts to represent the 13 moons, the 13 plates on a turtle’s back.  We all have hearts but they are somewhat different in DNA, life experiences, and stored trauma -- thus, different fabrics.  I used pinking shears to cut the centre parts of the hearts to represent them cracking open.  From inside these hearts came yellow fabric representing light as a backdrop for 13 medicinal plants.  I chose the four sacred plants of the Anishinaabeg since this is whose territory I live on; Tobacco, Cedar, Sage and Sweetgrass.  I added Strawberry which is used in ceremonies as well. I went through Christi Belcourt’s book  Medicines to Help Us: Traditional Métis Plant Use (2007) and picked plants that are used by Indigenous people as well as non-Indigenous people.  I have relationships with all 13 of the plants and I figured out how to represent each one with fabric, embroidery silks and beads.  Here is an overview of the cracked open hearts:

Now, I'll show you details of the piece and label all the plants:

Starting at the top left is Cedar which wanted to expand outside of the confines of the green heart and reach up into the sky.  To Cedar's right is Stinging Nettle.

At the top (in the centre of the piece) is Tobacco.  Below Tobacco on the
 left is Strawberry and to the right is Saskatoon Berry.

At the top (to the right of Tobacco) is Heal-All and to its right is Sweetgrass which also
wanted to reach up into the sky.  Below Heal-All to the left is Plantain and to its right,
Mint.  Below them is Sage.

In the bottom left of the piece are Jewelweed (top left) and beside that is Elderberry.  Below them is Maple.

I am still quilting the blue part which could be water or sky and I will finish it up with a binding of white and yellow to represent the moon and the sun.  Then I will figure out how to hang this on a gallery wall. But as Valentine’s Day approaches along with all the red hearts that that celebration entails, I thought I would share this work with you now.  Do we dare to let our hearts open in relationship with others, with people we might not even know?  What grows from an open heart? What healing does it bring?  The answers are as varied as the people on Earth I imagine.  But, it heart energy is the new currency of the future, then I imagine it’s time to open our hearts and get to work.

Evidence of Presence

 

The snow beneath our feet is crusted which is odd for mid-January.  About one inch of heavy “packing snow” lies on top of the hard crust making walking in the forest quite easy.  Even the icy bits are covered with somewhat sticky snow.  I still keep my eyes on the trail in front of me because there are a few wet spots that I need to avoid.  Such is the viewpoint of a senior woman even with walking poles and good boots.

My partner is ahead of me walking in a more carefree manner, scanning the trees for birds.  This is his weekly bird walk as a volunteer for the Wildlife Centre where we are hiking.  Luckily, he will point out anything of interest to me as I focus intently on the ground just before me.  It is not a total loss though.  There are the tracks of various animals that I can see fairly clearly; animals that are sharing the trail with us.  Coyote tracks border the righthand side of the trail heading in the opposite direction from the one that I am walking.  Then a second set of coyote tracks suddenly appear heading along with me.  They both come and go from the beaver pond that I soon pass.  I wonder if the coyote found food out there – maybe a beaver or a rabbit.

Rabbit tracks cross the path and something that looks like a Fisher’s tracks run alongside mine for a while.  We hear a raven calling from high above us.  Squirrel tracks in their neat clusters of four bound across the trail as well.  Then the fine tracks of a Ruffed Grouse who walked across the trail earlier today become visible.  We can hear the Black Capped Chickadees calling to us from the trees.  They want sunflower seeds from us and my partner obliges holding out his large hand that gently cups the seeds.  The chickadees land one at a time and feed from this bounty.

Continuing along the trail, my partner sees a Barred Owl lift off silently from the trail ahead of him.  He calls to me and we walk further on looking for the owl in the branches above our head.  Then, he spots the bird and points it out, patiently, over and over again, to me, until I can finally make out the dark brown shape sitting on a Poplar branch beside the Balsam Fir.  We have seen this bird before in this very spot yet it feels like a huge gift of presence to us – silent, watchful presence.

Barred Owl

We wonder about which birds we can report on the Bird Sighting Board back at the visitor’s centre.  Do you have to actually see a bird to report it?  Can we report the Ruffed Grouse?  Are it’s tracks evidence of its presence in the forest just like the raven’s call?

The phrase, “evidence of presence” wakes something up inside of me.  It expands the idea of “watching birds” with only our eyes to being aware of foot prints and bird calls as indicators or evidence that these birds are present in the forest with us.  It also speaks to the idea of our being present in the forest, not just physically, but mentally and emotionally as well. It speaks of paying attention to the world around us and not just to the parade of ideas flowing through our minds.  There are times that I have walked through the woods chewing on an emotional struggle, telling myself the same story over and over again without noticing anything around me.  I was barely present at all.  I wonder what I missed on those days?

Later, we hear news from Star Blanket Cree Nation which reports 2000 anomalies found by the Ground Penetrating Radar at the former Qu’Appelle Indian Residential School located near Lebret, Saskatchewan. There is also part of a jaw bone that burrowing animals have brought to the surface.  Chief Michael Starr shares the news because it is evidence of the presence of unmarked children’s graves.  Former students and community members already knew that children didn’t come home from these schools and that children went missing in the night.  But Canadian society didn’t believe this oral “evidence”.  It needs proof – scientific proof as evidence of presence.

The next day, we go to a different forest, one in which art installations have emerged over the past few years.  We carry an orange shirt pinned to a coat hanger.  We wrote the words, “Gaawiin nchke gdaa’aasii – You are not alone” on the shirt.  These are the words in Anishinaabemowin to the First Nation communities that are affected by these recent discoveries.  We are with you, you are not alone, we believe you.

The phrase, “Seeing is believing” is a very common one in Canada.  It speaks to the importance that we put on seeing something for it to be real.  Perhaps this makes sense in a culture that wants everything to be written down, in a culture that doesn’t trust oral culture.  Why would it trust oral statements when those in power so often tell falsehoods.  In court, people have to swear to tell the truth.  And yet, this is not so for the oral culture of First Nations, Metis and Inuit Peoples.  They are much closer to the oral culture of their ancestors.  The stories are evidence enough of the presence of children hidden underground.

As we walk back to the car, I am aware that my toes, fingers, knees and cheeks feel cold.  However, the sun on my back feels warm.  I can hear the squeaky crunch of snow at -15 degrees Celsius.  I hear the drumming of a Pileated Woodpecker on a resonant tree and stop walking in order to listen.  Earlier, we saw a pile of large wood chips at the base of a tree.  My partner points out that this meant that there were carpenter ants in the tree that the woodpecker had found.  There is a whole story that can be told from this evidence.  I hear a chickadee calling from the trees to my right and the distant sound of a truck going down the road.  I breath in the cold air and feel it warm up as it passes down my throat.  My walking poles make little holes in the snow leaving evidence of my presence hear today.

People who hike in this forest regularly will notice the new orange shirt hanging from inside the sticks placed in a tipi formation.  From the distance it looks to me like a heart inside a rib cage.  The two yellow wooden butterflies with hearts painted on them spin in the breeze.  People might wonder who put these symbols here and what they mean.  They may want to know the story behind what they can see in front of them. They might get curious and think about it and maybe wonder if it has to do with the recent discoveries at Star Blanket Cree Nation.  They may look it up on one of their devices and learn more.  The story might touch their hearts, softening them, opening them.  They may find a way to take action leaving more evidence of their presence in the midst of this healing work.  They may bring this new understanding into conversations with their friends and co-workers.

What evidence of our presence are we leaving behind?  Conscious healing work or unconscious litter?  It's something to think about at the beginning of this New Year.