Nobody is coming to fix this

A client who came to the jungle first shared this message with me.

Last week I heard it again. I was on a Zoom call with a woman who runs a healing center in the U.S. Virgin Islands. We plan to rent her space for a retreat in February.

The message found me twice, years apart, from two different people.

That repeat is why it’s the topic this week.

For over twenty years, people have passed around a message. They share it as words from Hopi elders in Oraibi, Arizona.

It ends with one line.

We are the ones we have been waiting for.

Read it again.

Not a leader. Not a government. Not a teacher on a stage. You. Your neighbors. The people on your street.

The message also says the time of going alone is over. It asks people to gather.

Why waiting feels easier

• If someone else is responsible, you can stay comfortable.
• If nobody is responsible, you can stay angry.
• If you are responsible, you have to act.

Which one are you choosing right now?

Community is the first medicine

Psychologist Julianne Holt-Lunstad and her team reviewed 148 studies covering more than 300,000 people. People with strong social ties were 50 percent more likely to survive over the study periods.

The Harvard Study of Adult Development has followed people since 1938. Its director, Robert Waldinger, reports that the quality of your relationships at midlife predicts your health at 80 better than your cholesterol does.

You do not need a movement. You need people who know your name.

Water and land

The Hopi have grown corn in the dry high desert of northern Arizona for centuries without irrigation. That takes close knowledge of the land and many hands.

Most of us cannot name the river our water comes from.

A 2019 study led by Mathew White followed nearly 20,000 people in England. Those who spent at least 120 minutes a week in nature reported better health and wellbeing. That is about 17 minutes a day.

Care follows contact. You protect what you know.

Once a month, the landowners around me met to fix the path to the road. Ten to fifteen people showed up.

Some walked more than an hour to get there. They lived deep in the jungle. Most had only machetes.

I paid for the nails, hammers, and tools myself. I also brought in a chainsaw so they could cut through the logs.

The first path was barely a path. You jumped over rivers and creeks. You stepped over fallen logs. You could not carry a load to market on that.

The work was tough and physical. It was also worth it.

Then the yucca and bananas started leaving the jungle. People could sell what they grew.

I taught them permaculture, building, and sustainability. They taught me what showing up looks like. They walked an hour to work on something that helped everyone, themselves included.

Nobody waited for a rescuer.

How working with plant medicine opens this

When you work with Cacao, people slow down. They sit shoulder to shoulder, pass a cup, and speak. Strangers talk honestly in the first hour. A circle does what a lecture cannot.

When you work with Mapacho, you learn to give before you take. In Amazon traditions, tobacco is an offering. You ask permission. You pay attention to what you receive. Land and water stop being a supply. They become a relationship.

Try this week

• Learn the name of one neighbor you do not know.
• Find out where your tap water comes from.
• Spend 20 minutes outside near water or soil with your phone off.
• Invite two people to a meal at your table.

Something to listen to this week

Put on R. Carlos Nakai’s Canyon Trilogy. Native American flute music from one of its best known players. Let it play while you cook for your guests.

Now we want to hear from you

Who will you invite to your table this week?

If you want to sit in circle with us, we hold space for people who are ready to stop waiting. 

See you next Monday.