Jon Orsi. A Small Thing

It has been hard this year to get in the blogging spirit, especially when look around at some of the other blogs that are setting that bar -Nay, Dustin, Ashley, Rio (the usual suspects) and pretty much every one else as well- But these blogs have inspired me to meet that bar and hopefully exceed it.

-That will have to wait until next time however. because for this blog I just want to talk about something. A small thing, but it has blossomed.

It started out with this assignment we've all been given- to find a myth and present it to the class. I was initially overcome with dread and distaste for the assignment. I created a list of personal reasons why I didn't really want to do this, and essentially planned on simply not doing it. Problem solved.

Coming to my senses and admitting to myself that my "personal reasons" were nothing more than a thesaurused list of "personal procrastinations". Problem resolved.

One thing in my life has forever been a small thing- a part of my ancestry that I cannot, through any living bloodline trace, and that I know virtually nothing about: A small drop of naive blood, but even small things have their place.
Many of the french who first came to that -Nova Scotia/ quebec --area had,  if not good, at least civil relationships with the native population and eventually became interwoven into the community- adoptions, and many trappers married squaw wives. As it turns out  my fathers great-grandmother (mothers side) was one of them.
So, climbing blindly backwards through mauslin layers of cobwebs and things forgotten, I trace a small drop of Abenaki blood into my own.
This fact has forever-in my prospective- been forgotten. But even forgotten things have their remembrance.

So, after this fall backward four generations, I arrive once more: here.
At this assignment, I had once thought to be a drag.
What happened next, threw me further back to where I once began, before time recollected.
I started looking into Abenaki mythologies and I found this amazing website.

Actually, hold on. As i am writing i realize that that's not how this all happenstancially fell into place.
What initially happened was the following story:
I see Tristan in the library as I am working. He asks me a question about this assignment, which sparks my unveiling of obligations suppressed.
I start thinking about how getting up in front of the class is kind of like being a stand up comedian of sorts.
I realize I already have a mythology memorized that is both the creation of namesake of my home town and the river it is named for.
This is quickly dubbed when I realize how offensive this story is, and how completely esoteric it is as well.
But the story has to do with the Abenaki and thence, I lapse into the story ascribed above.

so back-forward, again to where I was, again to where I am: here. -trying to start this assignment as it were.

...and i found this amazing website... On which it details the major characters of Abenaki mythology, and their mythologies.

reading here, I realize the importance of passing these stories on. I realize I have been largely if not completely void of this honor, I never knew my great great mother, i never knew these stories.
But re-touching something, even a small thing resonates within me with a powerful acoustic.

Despite my distance, and my diluted blood line, I feel- at least i would like to feel- that though this familiarity is faded from long years of absence, one movement of remembrance can revive and restore an apparition of rapture.

so anywho. this is one of the many stories published on this website, I dislike that it came to me through the medium of the internet- yet, so be it. but i would like to think that this story had come down from a time forgotten, and will continue to do so to times unknown.

The Great Spirit, in a time not known to us looked about and saw nothing. No colors, no beauty. Time was silent in darkness. There was no sound. Nothing could be seen or felt. The Great Spirit decided to fill this space with light and life.
From his great power he commanded the sparks of creation. He ordered Tôlba, the Great Turtle to come from the waters and become the land. The Great Spirit molded the mountains and the valleys on turtle's back. He put white clouds into the blue skies. He was very happy.He said, "Everything is ready now. I will fill this place with the happy movement of life."He thought and thought about what kind of creatures he would make.

Where would they live? What would they do? What would their purpose be? He wanted a perfect plan. He thought so hard that he became very tired and fell asleep.
His sleep was filled with dreams of his creation. He saw strange things in his dream. He saw animals crawling on four legs, some on two. Some creatures flew with wings, some swam with fins. There were plants of all colors, covering the ground everywhere. Insects buzzed around, dogs barked, birds sang, and human beings called to each other. Everything seemed out of place. The Great Spirit thought he was having a bad dream. He thought, nothing could be this imperfect.
When the Great Spirit awakened, he saw a beaver nibbling on a branch. He realized the world of his dream became his creation. Everything he dreamed about came true. When he saw the beaver make his home, and a dam to provide a pond for his family to swim in, he then knew every thing has it's place, and purpose in the time to come.
It has been told among our people from generation to generation. We must not question our dreams. They are our creation.

-isn't that something. A small thing perhaps, but all things have their place.