Hermitage Meditation November 9, 2024
by Anne Arseneau
Above the meditative path to the Hermitage, two bald eagles are in the tall fir trees. They welcome me to the naked forest, bare from heavy coastal rains and winds of autumn’s timely undress. Decay is beautiful as it turns and creates rich soil for future growth. The array of fungi, the antique hues of leaf rot, tiny birds darting to soft berries while the woodpecker rhythmically feasts on dead wood insects. The salmon have finished their fall spawn feeding the bear and eagle, and men in their rush to catch their quota. The eagle carries the salmon carcass far into the forest, dropping the fish as fertilizer on the forest floor creating rich nutrients from the season’s decaying matter. Everything has purpose.
We respectfully acknowledge that the land we gather on and work to protect is the unceded territory of the people who are today called the K’ómoks First Nation, consisting of the Pentlatch, E’iksan (eye-ick-sun), Sasitla (sa-seet-la), Xa’xe (ha-hey) and Sathloot people.
“I’ve been considering the phrase “all my relations” for some time now. It’s hugely important. It’s our saving grace in the end. It points to the truth that we are all related, that we are all connected, that we all belong to each other. Not just those who look like me, sing like me, dance like me, speak like me, pray like me, or behave like me. All my relations. That means every person, just as it means every rock, mineral, blade of grass and creature. We live because everything else does. If we were to choose collectively to live that teaching, the energy of our change of consciousness would heal each of us – and heal the planet.”
Embers, One Ojibway’s Meditations by Richard Wagamese