"In ages past, our old ones were storytellers. This was the way things were passed along to the generations that followed. For this reason the aged people made it a point to remember every detail so they could relate it at a later time. They were the word and picture carriers making history and spiritual values alive and important. In recent times we have made our old ones think they are not so important. We spoof their stories and make them feel foolish. The truth is that we are ignorant of what is precious and how to appreciate age. Rigidity can creep in and set even the young mind if there are no soft memories, no laughter, no times too deep for tears. Age is a "grace" time too valuable to waste."

— A Cherokee Feast of Days-Daily Meditations, Joyce Sequichie Hifler

It was a beautiful spring morning in the Northwest as I arrived at the nursing home with my harp to play my usual hour for the residents. I had created a special therapy for them, joining with a massage therapist. She massaged their hands while I played the harp. We gathered wheel chairs together in the chapel room for the hour of music, and sometimes went to individual rooms, as requested. Some magical moments happened around this experience. The following is one of them.

At the entrance to the home was a sun -filled lobby with two bird cages. The pair of bright red and yellow Love Birds always greeted me as I walked in. This day they were in fine voice, chirping and singing. I even felt they must have recognized me by this time. We whistled back and forth as I carried the harp in.

As I passed the garden area I could not help but note how especially beautiful it was today, with the small water fountain and flowers. In the corner a large bird cage had been built and there were four white doves in them. A baby bird had just been hatched, and this was a point of great interest for everyone to watch daily. One of the patients was sitting alone watching the fish in the water fountain, contemplating. A little statue in the fountain was the figure of a man with a laughing face, and he was holding flowers.

The massage therapist didn't come today, and it was too nice to be inside, so I set up the harp out in the garden. The nurses thought this was a wonderful idea. The wheelchairs arrived and circled around me. The old folks were given straw hats to protect them from the sun, and I wore one too.

I began to play the harp and the doves were so delighted they began to coo in a chorus with the music. It was a wonderful symphony of gentle water sounds from the fountain, the doves cooing, and the warm sun with gentle breezes blowing through the garden.

I played some of the old hymns, sang some songs, and played some improvisational melodies to echo the sound of the doves. The garden was transformed into a magical hour as everyone became a part of the harmony.

All my life I have been keenly aware of the sound of people's voices, relationships, and the patterns created in conversations. The first 20 years of my life I lived on a farm in the Midwest still enjoy waking up at the first dawn, watching the waves of light come, listening to the first bird calls, something I learned to do as a child. Everything is vibration. Early music lessons helped to further create a "listening ear". Communications are extremely important, not only with people but with everything. And everything will communicate with you, if you approach it in the right way, quietly listening, deeply listening with respect. There is beauty and mystery in communications.

Listening to hear harmony is important to health and well being. In fact, the immune system thrives on harmony. I can remember running and splashing in the creeks on the farm, out in the woods... the feel of the fresh water as I dipped my toes into the stream... the slight wispy sound... as thin stones skipped across the surface of the water when I threw them out. We have "inner ears". They are not located on the sides of our head, but all over the body. The body listens all the time.

Stop for a moment, try listening with your hand, listening with your leg, listening with your arm, listening with your foot. Imagine you are a big EAR.

Now. listen with every CELL. Go to article>>

Chaco Canyon, near Farmington, New Mexico, is very hot and dry, without shade or water. We had to carry everything in, driving the last 23 miles on a rough dirt road that seemed to go nowhere. We had been warned by the ranger about plague, carried by fleas (should one bite you), and rabies (if one of the desert inhabitants bites you). And of course, rattlesnakes. But the desert was beautiful: yellow, purple, white, pink wild flowers, and brilliant insects....one had such tiny little legs we wondered what possible hydraulic dynamic it used to move itself off the ground! Tame chipmunks and birds playing "catch as catch can" darted around the food boxes we had opened. A colorful brown and orange bird flew right into my van, unafraid.

Casa Rinconada, built around 1100, is one of the largest of the kivas and they named it "great kiva in the southwest". Some say this central and magnificent creation was used for the community at large, as an important meeting place. A thousand years ago, this valley was the center of Anasazi life. The Anasazi worked very hard to sustain themselves here. The harder they worked, the more pleased were their gods. They were a small people, physically, judging by the size of the small doorways of their dwellings. And apparently didn't ride horses, but walked everywhere. Chaco Canyon was believed to have been a cultural and political center. Severe drought and overtaxed resources caused the Anasazi to drift away. They retreated to better water resources, leaving behind impressive evidence of their former influence over a vast territory. Go to article>>

©2007, Alana Woods/Sound Vistas, Inc. • Albuquerque, New Mexico • USA