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Showing posts from November, 2021

For a Cloudy Day (originally written 11/9/21)

Glorious Sun, though I cannot see You, I know You are there. Today You wanted to hide--and that's okay.  We all do that sometimes. Today I praise and honor You, for without You we would not have light right now (even though You're hiding), and we would not have heat, though meager it might be. I praise You for Your ability to lift my mood when I catch a glimpse of You breaking through clouds. I praise You for feeding the plant life around me creating a vibrant world. Though today is gray, Glorious Sun, I praise you. -Orchid Casarez

Prayer to the Muses (originally written 11/7/21)

Muses Nine, oh how I adore thee! You continue to inspire classics in this modern age. Country anthems like "The Thunder Rolls" Pop masterpieces like "Born This Way" Metal bangers like "Raining Blood" I could go on. Thank you, fair Muses, for your work in the modern day.  These songs make life a little easier to bear. -Orchid Casarez

Prayer for Kingsley (originally written 11/6/21)

This prayer needs a bit of background.  My nearly three-month-old nephew was born with a brain tumor and we didn't know how long he had left.  This prayer was written shortly after his passing. I light this candle to say good bye to baby Kingsley. May your passage into the Otherworld be swift and smooth. May this flame hold your memory and keep it burning bright in the hearts of all who knew you. We love you, baby King.  We will miss you. -Orchid Casarez

A Prayer for Native American Heritage Month (originally written 11/2/21)

Today I honor those whose Ancestors lived on this land before mine did. I vow to let your worldview inform my own. I vow to not take sacred traditions and lands from you without asking first--and to leave those traditions and lands alone that you wish me to. I dream of one day collaborating with you to rebuild society to be more communal. I honor you not just this month, but every month. May it be so. -Orchid Casarez

I Live On Stolen Land

Instead of perpetuating the nationalistic myth of Thanksgiving, in which the "Pilgrims" were offered food by Indigenous people and peace was had, I'm going to talk about something very different:  genocide of Native peoples. Today I honor and remember the Myaamia, Kaskaskia, and Kiikapoi--the peoples that were here in Indianapolis before colonization.  I thank all Natives for their innumerable contributions to our culture without any recognition (and often erasure). Thanks to my ancestors (and the ancestors of the majority of people living in the United States today), entire Native populations were destroyed and their cultures (including languages, religion, and art) erased. I can never undo what my ancestors have done.  The most I can do is listen to Indigenous peoples and amplify their voices with my own white privilege.  I can support them financially by buying authentically-made products from Natives and giving money directly to Native people. (When I am in a better s