By: Jennifer Richardson Holt
I am using the somewhat antiquated method of paper and ink to start writing this. I have always embraced old things and am unabashedly a lover of all things historic but I admit putting pen to page feels terribly inconvenient and absurdly taxing. I know this is a ridiculous overreaction on my part that I am rather embarrassed by but alas, here I am with my brow furrowed in displeasure at being reminded of just how terribly ghastly my handwriting is. You think I exaggerate when I use such emphatic terms but I promise you would wonder if a person of sound mind and/or hand wrote this if you could see what is on the page before me. I also, as much as I hate to admit it, am wondering how much space this chicken scratch (assuming the chicken were mid epileptic fit and in a moving vehicle) would take up in single spaced, 12 point, Georgia font. Clearly my affinity for all things bygone has not translated to my writing process.
My fondness for all things past (preferably distant past) has manifested itself in many other ways in my life though. Visiting historic locales and hearing tales of long ago are the types of things that are very much up my alley. One rather intriguing undertaking that such interests have caused me to pursue is the analyzing of my DNA to see from what parts of the world all the characters that make up myself hailed. Most of the results from this investigation were what I expected after tracing rather far back (at last research I was sitting in the late 13th century at the earliest point to which I have explored) in my family tree. I already felt I had a pretty good sense of what I could expect. Of course, the British Isles are major players in my lineage backstory and the fact that continental Europe did a lot of visiting, romancing and/or invading said isles made the continental components make a fair amount of sense. The small splash of Norway was pleasantly unexpected. Upon that discovery I immediately, as one does, fancied myself descended from some statuesque shield maiden of nobly Viking blood. Sure it was just a single digit percentage of my background but that is beside the point. I knew there was some reason that even from childhood something drew me to a powerful woman with a sword. Surely an amalgamation of some form of European nobility and Viking warrior explains such things entirely. I loved She-ra, Princess of Power because, of course, she is in my blood! Roughly. Give or take.
No, a little touch of Scandinavian descent didn’t come as a shock knowing the coming and goings all around Europe long ago. What did come as quite the epiphany was my smallest allocation of genetic makeup which was the single percent of Native American. That, I did not see coming. I know most Southerners insist that they have some great grand someone that was Cherokee. I don’t know why almost everyone says Cherokee as if that were the only tribe to ever have existed but most of us have heard someone tell such a tale. But for me to learn that at some point, in some unknown niche of the past that created me, there was an ancestor that was able to authentically call this land home struck a chord. For me this gave a great deal of meaning to things that I had long felt but just assumed they were all parts of my unique, and possibly quirky, personality. To learn that some of the threads in the fabric of my innermost tapestry were native gave revelation to some of the why behind my notions.
You see, for me to immerse myself in nature, to really surround myself by it, is a truly sacred experience. When I can really be deeply involved with creation something happens to me. I feel I can experience the marks of productivity from God Himself. It is a wondrous and sometimes overwhelming thing to almost see the tell-tale signs He left in his building of all the elements of this world. There are times that golden beams of light filtering through a forest canopy become equivalent to museum lighting. The entire environment is an exhibition of His handiwork. You feel small in the vastness and majesty of it all but also so amazingly important that in all the infinite grandeur of things He also felt this glorious world needed one of you! I feel like perhaps, the native peoples of this land, who lived so closely intertwined with the natural world and placed so much spiritual value upon it may have looked at things this way. They knew of this Great Spirit that was the Source of all things and it helped them to value and live harmoniously with creation in a way that I think often people have forgotten. Maybe this minuscule amount of native blood helped give me this connection I feel to the landscape and is what makes me see beyond leaf, or soil to something deeper. I can’t help but, on a day I am truly focused on being mindful, see our common Maker and how valuable we must be.
As I am sitting here writing this in the magnificent sun of a cloudless autumn sky, a young doe just emerged from the forest and is now casually grazing by me. She seems unphased by my presence. She devotes the occasional dark eyed glance or velvety ear turn my way but mostly she carries on. Apparently she finds me about as threatening as the nearby excessively noisy blue jays. What is probably a silly thought crosses my mind. Maybe she senses what I have just been writing about? I’m probably being ridiculous. I’m most likely just a nature-lover and my single percent of native heritage doesn’t really have any bearing on things. I daresay that is likely the case.
The doe is gone now. However, I just heard some sort of cry from behind me. I swear that I am telling you the truth that there is now a spotted fawn even closer to me. She glanced at me twice then went back to the task she felt more important which was giving her back a good licking. Maybe they all do sense something? Maybe they know how almost holy all this can be to me. Perhaps they grasp that when I am lost in creation where the very fingerprints of our mutual Creator are nearly visible in every drop of dew and speckled fawn, that all they can expect from me is a smiling gaze of awe.
Prose and Possibilities 
Loved the post Jenn, could just envision looking at the magnificent October sky through brilliant red maple leaves as l read. Thanks, and thanks to the Master and only Creator.
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