Joy Harjo's Web Log

Another morning but where in the loop does consciousness start, begin or end? There is always a morning, or beginning somewhere in time, and a dusk or signal of an opposing arc of a cycle.

I have been asleep. How many hours has my spirit closed its eyes and dozed in fear, distrust or paranoia in this body, this life?

I was awake as we paddled out last night from the beach at Maunalua Bay into fierce wind gusts. We caught our rhythm and were in it. We were waves of blown ocean, Koko Head, the rhythm of paddles hitting and pulling, clouds broken by torque and force. The intention of the winds is to clear and clarify to sweep clean debris. Our intention was to move the canoe with each other, to go forward, strengthen ourselves, test ourselves against ourselves and eventually each other.

We went out in two-double hulls. This was safer as Wednesday night is visitor’s night and we had unexperienced paddlers. We crossed under the bridge with instructions to go to the marina, to Hancock Island and circle back. We extended the paddle through various channels in the marina, sometimes forced ourselves into the flat hard faces of the winds and sometimes flying with the winds behind us. There were even whitecaps in the usually relatively placid waters of the marina!

At one point our canoes went two different directions around a particular point. The other canoe came out about five boat lengths ahead. We decided to beat them and went into race mode. I was in a stroker’s seat on the right. (A double hull is two single six-man (sic) canoes bound together, so there are two stroker seats.) The stroker sets the pace, the rhythm. You also have the best view. You can also feel everyone in the canoe. I threw my intention past the canoe ahead of us and we went for it. We caught up and beat them. Exhilarating. We had to make a collective decision and pull up resources from within as it was the end of about an hour non-stop paddle. Both canoes were pretty evenly distributed according to power and experience so the race was well-matched. I’m ready to go back out tomorrow.

Intention is a powerful thing, like a rope of energy. Ropes can have different sizes and strengths. Intention is built from will, desire and emotional pull. The effect also depends on where you put it. Throw a seed on concrete and you won’t get corn. You’ll get a sad seed and indifferent concrete. A little wind might move the seed to a crack and it will have a chance—and maybe it’s intention that forces that chance.


It’s cold here. In the sixties. Unusual. It seems to be the consensus of the wise and spiritually aware ones that I have spoken with everywhere from Alaska to Oklahoma that we are in the middle of a pole shift. It’s cold where it’s usually warm, and vice versa. One informant at Isleta Pueblo says the birds don’t even know which way to fly. We are in the middle of a turn. Pay attention. Make your own notes and observations for your descendents. They will look back and ask fierce questions.

February 9, 2006 Thursday