Ayana Young  Welcome to For The Wild Podcast. I'm Ayana Young. You're listening to Deeply Rooted: Grounding Practices to Weather the Winds of Uncertainty. Today we receive an offering from our sis Lyla June, who has generously shared so many gifts with our community over the years. Her latest offering is no exception, a humbling testament to the power of creation. 

Lyla June is a Dine and Cheyenne poet, educator, musician and community organizer. She is from Taos New Mexico, and currently lives in Santa Fe, New Mexico. She wears many hats and yet her core purpose is the same regardless of the method to help and serve.

Lyla June  Yeah, [Indigenous language). Our greetings, my kin and my people. [Indigenous language). I'm from the Black Charcoal Street division of the Red Running into Water Clan of the Dine nation, also incorrectly known as Navajo. Lyla June [Indigenous language). My name is Lyla June, [Indigenous language) and that way I present myself as a Dine woman. 

I'm really happy to be here with all of you. Really happy to share a poem that I have. And this poem is actually about the gorge, next to Taos, New Mexico, my hometown. It's very deep and it's always served as a reminder to me about the depth of time, and how even water can carve stone hundreds of feet deep into the Earth. And the beauty and the grace of that water, and how time is really a reminder of our helplessness within the wave of creation and to humble ourselves before that wave. And to understand we're a small part of it. 

And so it also is really helpful, I think, for people like us who are in a constant state of agony over the state of things. Not just the state of politics, but the state of the oceans, the state of the planets, the state of the biodiversity, the state of our brothers and sisters who are suffering because of inequity. And those of us who really are living in pain, even though we're not the ones always receiving the pain. And to really zoom out and understand that, you know, everything really is going to be okay, that we can't control anything. There's one thing we can control and that's whether we are acting in love or in fear. That's literally the only thing we get to control in this life. And that's really hard to remember and really hard to accept. 

I saw this quote recently it said, "Relax, nothing is under control." Like we can't... We're not the ones who are going to control any outcome of anything. And I think the water carving the canyons so deep is really speaking about that... is... You know, we live a blink of an eye as a human life when you really consider and contemplate eternity. And that doesn't mean we can't change the world, we can and we will, and we are. But you can't really change people, you know. You can influence them, but you can't change them. If they change it will be because they changed themselves. And maybe we inspired them, we influenced them but it will never be the same way you can change your oil on a car, you know. They're not a machine. They're not at your disposal or your will. 

And so that's really all we can do in this time is fight in our own way, and do our best to learn how to fight and then once we understand that, do our best to fight. And even if we fail or even if we aren't perfect in our fight, the fact that we tried. The fact that we seek a way to fight and that we sought creator, we sought love, we sought healing. That is a victory in and of itself, and truly, that's the only victory we get to guarantee to one another is the victory that you will be able to try if that is your will. And if that is your desire. That is something you can absolutely succeed in every single time is trying. And understanding that the ancestors aren't really asking us to be perfect in this time of agony, and this time of destruction and pure chaos. They're just asking us to try. And, sometimes, funnily enough, if you give yourself permission to just try so many beautiful things can happen. 

This poem also speaks to me about the creation of forgiveness within ourselves because also, when you zoom out into geological time, all of our mistakes, those stupid things we did in seventh grade or that embarrassing thing we did when we were five years old or ugly, horrible things that happened to us or ugly, horrible things that we did to others, and all the pain and the shame and the self hatred and the disgust that really good people end up picking up as they go along in their journey of being human. You know, we're usually the ones that feel that shame the most–the people who have a good heart–because we're just so sick that we would ever be a part of something impure or not good. And it's interesting, because those are not just us, but everyone deserves to be free of that pain of the shame. 

And so this poem also speaks about that to me of, like, if we zoom out in a geological timescale, you know, really understanding that we are always going to be loved, we are always going to be loved by creator and creation. And anything we do is not only forgivable, but must be forgiven, and must be composted, somehow, some way, and released and given back up to the sky because only then can we be free and only then can we give that freedom to others. And so I think it's really important to meditate on that too, as you listen to this poem. 

And it's called And God is the Water and it's an extended metaphor about us being the stone and God being the water and what can happen over lifetimes of being human. So here it goes. Thank you for listening.

When I close my eyes at night
I can feel the rock being cut open
by water.

I hear a grandfather song
and it sounds like sand
walking down the river bottom.

And in this song they talk about how even
the mighty canyon walls were carved by
meandering streams.

Beneath the gentle waters there are people.
Not people like you and I.
Stone people.

And when I close my eyes at night
I am one of them
and Creator, She is the water.

And She courses over me
until I am polished and smooth.  

She teaches me how to be gentle and forgiving,  
She teaches me how to be patient yet persistent.

And in her language of 
trickles and bubbles she speaks to me as she says:

“Journeys. 
Journeys, take them.
But try to remember who you are along the way.
Unfortunately I have nothing for you but these words.
So place them in your pocket 
and I will see you again when you arrive
at the ocean’s throne
as one million kernels of sand”

Her voice
hums in my blood
quiet as a stream in the night
and it is a song about how
we are all
just
so loved.

The eagles dip their talons into Her soft body
and pull from it a fish, a fleshmeal for the children.  

They sing this grandfather song with her
and it sounds like feathers
cutting into the sky.

And it is this song about how even
hatred will surrender
to wonder.

She is breaking my granite heart apart with her water. 
and even the hardest doubts and sorrows
are breaking and giving way to
Her infinite grace.

And who knew that
sometimes grace can come in the form
of a raging river  

And when it rips away everything 
that you thought you owned
all the pain, all the blame, all the shame 
and replaces it with a weightlessness
so profound you can’t not cry
tears of absolute praise
and run all around the river banks shouting to the
the cattails and the minnows and the willows
about the truth of beauty?

About the truth of a Creator that 
breathes through the trees

the truth of a Creator that weaves water from winter and night
the truth of a Creator that weaves bodies from dust and light
the truth of a Creator that carries us down the river of life over

and over until we finally understand
the meaning of forever, forever.

In the language of the stones there is
no word for mistake.

Only the complete understanding of what it
means to be a beloved son or daughter.

We are the rocks
and Creator,
She— she is the water.

<Musical Break>

Lyla June  Thanks everyone for listening and thank you to For The Wild for letting me have some time to connect with everyone. And I hope you're all doing well out there and remembering that what we can control... are we acting in love or fear? And making it a practice to act in fear as little as possible and if we do that, then I think we're doing really all that we're supposed to be doing. So my prayers are with you and we'll talk to you soon.

 <Musical Break>

Ayana Young  You've been listening to Deeply Rooted: Grounding Practices to Weather the Winds of Uncertainty. I hope Lyla's poem uplifts your capacity to find strength, forgiveness, and connection in times of adversity. You can follow Lyla on Instagram using the handle at @lylajune and by visiting her website, lylajunejohnston.com. You can hear her music on SoundCloud and YouTube. Learn more and stay connected by visiting forthewild.world/subscribe. If you enjoy today's offering, please rate us on iTunes and consider supporting us on Patreon. 

Our theme music is the song "Home" by Pura Fe and you also heard music from Lyla herself. The poem And God is the Water was written and performed by Lyla June. I'd like to thank our podcast production team Aiden McCray, Andrew Storrs, Carter Lou McElroy, Erica Ekrem, Eryn Wise, Francesca Glaspell, Hannah Wilton, and Melanie Younger.