… since I spend so much time with words—reading them, writing them, listening to them, speaking them (when I have a voice with which to speak)—I’d be fairly conversant in the meanings of them. Well, I am with most of them, but every so often I get to wondering what a particular word means. One I’ve used ever since I learned to speak in moderately coherent sentences, but never really thought of. 

Two words and their usage regarding grave sites or other plots of ground, have puzzled me for some time are ‘holy’ or ‘sacred.’ Why have areas of bones and ash been so designated? Who determines if this plot of land is or isn’t holy? The term, ‘Holy Land’ means something very different to me than it possibly means to you. If you follow one of the Judeo-Christian-Muslim faiths (faiths of The Book), it means the middle east—today’s Israel and Palestine.  If you follow other faiths, that term probably means other countries, other areas, depending on where your god was born, raised, died, and resurrected. To me, it is any piece of land on which I stand and hear the world go hush, hear the holy song, think the holy thoughts, and know the love of all my relations.* Whether that is desert of New Mexico, the coast of Oregon, the Black Hills of the Dakotas, or the Beaufort Sea in the Arctic. It’s me that makes it a holy land for me, wherever I am when the song, the hush, the thoughts come.

So, back to my question, why are grave sites considered holy, or sacred? Who gives them that designation? Well, thanks to Google, I have an answer. Those words are designations that humans give (not gods) to areas to set them apart, to keep them separate, to honor the dead buried in them. They are set apart in that manner to make it clear that mankind designated them holy, not religion.

I wrote a poem a while back, called Holy Lands (not yet published, but making the rounds), and a couple of people in my poetry group had a hard time accepting that term. To them, the holy lands were where their god was born, lived, died, and resurrected. They could accept the term sacred, and we had a pretty good discussion about it. And yes, it was a good discussion, no raised voices, etc. The poem is still called Holy Lands. I’m in a good group, and their input is valued, and I often make their suggested changes to my work. In this case I believe I used all of their suggestions but that one. 

Of course, I now come up with more questions. Below is a photo I took last winter at dawn. I took it from my patio, I heard the song, heard the hush, thought the thoughts, and for a time, I stood in a holy place looking at this holy view. Is my patio holy now? No. But for a moment in time it was. As the Buddhists might say, I was awakened or enlightened at that moment, gazing at the sunrise, the trees, the river. The photo reminds me it happened and can happen again. Awakening or enlightenment is not a once and you’re done happening. It happens and happens again. As the Buddhists also say, “Before enlightenment, chop wood, carry water. After enlightenment, chop wood, carry water.” In other words, life goes on, only awakened you are more in tune with it, the harmony of living on our planet is greater. At least for a while. Because you don’t awake from sleep only once, but every morning, so does enlightenment happen more than once.

*All my relations: Lakota, Mitakuye Oyasin, means All Are Related or All My Relations.

Also, in keeping with today’s subject, I offer another phrase. “Bright eyed and bushy tailed.” Now, where did that one come from? What does it mean? That’s another one I’ve heard, and used, since, well, I could speak. It’s straight out of the fox hunts. A fox whose eyes are dull, whose tail is not groomed and bushy, is not a healthy fox. So, when someone wishes you a good night’s sleep, and that you wake bright eyed and bushy tailed, they are saying they hope you wake well rested and healthy. Who knew?

My Week’s Entertainment:

TV:

Amazon Prime: One of my all-time most favoritest TV shows is Morse. I think I’ve seen them all, some more than once. The other day I realized Amazon Prime has the first six seasons (alas, short seasons of 4 episodes each) of Endeavour. Morse, who never ever used his first name, had one, of course. It was Endeavour. And this series is the prequel to Morse. Endeavour as a young man, just starting out. The cast, the props, etc., are all top drawer. If you haven’t seen it, I heartily recommend it. (I wonder where they found so many actors who still smoke tobacco? Or if those were all fake and CGI? Just watching those smoke-filled rooms, etc., set off my allergies! The wildfires outside didn’t help, either.)

Netflix: 16 episode Korean, good subtitles, It’s Okay Not to be Okay. This was a fun ‘dramedy’ — listed as a Romantic Drama, I found far more laughs in it than drama; however, the drama was intense enough to pull it out of the comedy category. The central protagonists are two brothers, the younger taking care of the older who is on the autism spectrum, and a writer of children’s fairy tales who is, well, hard to like at first, but for good reason. Her mother was a monster, and disappeared when the girl was quite young. The girl wasn’t sure if she was dead or alive. Her mother drove away the one friend the girl had before leaving. The mother of the two boys was killed shortly before the mother left (died?) and the boys took off on their own before the police could separate them and institutionalize the older brother. Sounds pretty grim, doesn’t it? That’s why it’s not a comedy. But it’s full of humor and laughs-out-loud. The older brother is a delight. His world is black or white, and he is honest to a fault—and many laughs. Highly recommended.

Books:

I’m a pretty eclectic reader. I tend to go in streaks and read fiction (prefer happy endings to my escapes) and poetry as my primary choices, but that leaves it wide open. I also read nonfiction, especially essays or biographies. Rather than give you a list of what I’ve read and recommend in the past week, I’ll give you a link to my book blog, Rainy Day Reads. You probably won’t care about all the books, but the list goes back a few years. Prowl around, and if you like some, hit the Follow button and each time I post a new book, you’ll be notified. Or you should be.

Show your love; wear your mask. Show you care for your family, your friends, and your community. Show those nasty old flowers you don’t care for their pollen. And y’all come back next week, same masked time, same masked place. The coffee is always on, the biscotti are home made, and we’ve always got time for a coffee break and a visit. (And, we’ll be socially distanced, so you can remove your mask. 😉

Auntie Lenora