Running in Ice/ A Load of Wood is a Good Christmas Present.

I will start this week with my winter running schedule. I have taken a couple months off of running, and logging in and putting in miles has decreased to just walking. Usually, during the harvest and into the winter months, much of my life is spent on getting hunkered in for the winter. The cold and the early time change really puts a damper on my body. Waking up from a warm bed into the cold isn’t fun – much shiver factor eeeew.

So I have to start wearing less  on daily basis to get the body tempered to the insanity of the run…hahaha. Some of you are thinking, he is crazy. Imagine if you were my partner – that’s probably why I’m alone, haha.

I need a couple more loads of wood to feel good about hunkering down for the winter; around these parts, my good friends a load of wood is a damn good Christmas present as well as a mating gift..haha

However the Pueblo mating call will have to wait. I have to prepare for a few more gigs. Denver this week, the 21st in Taos, Santa Fe 22nd and 23rd. Hopefully, in between, I can spend some time with friends. However, after these gigs, I can really have time to myself in the openness of the land, the trails and the cold, coldness.

I’m not gonna participate as much in the dances of the winter season. Mostly it’s because when a relative passes on, you have to respect their passing by mourning for about a year, and it just feels better to lay low until next year.

headed for the early morning push, join me?

Ask me why I run in such coldness?
I’m gonna be straight up here. I could have lived anywhere in the world – some condo in L.A., a hut in Waimea, or some apartment on the upper west side.
The reality is this: I chose to live where my blood dried as a baby, where I crawled, and where I eventually walked and had the confidence to run and hunt.
I choose here because bone to bone, chest to chest, feet to feet, blood to blood my sword is here, and this is where I will eventually die.The reality of it all is this; it’s not for everyone. I have seen the best people get their asses kicked; a third world living for many. They say it’s a dry res., however, drugs, drinking, abuses are apparent in this small holy land.

Pushing into and thru the north fields.

How did I make it?
I’ve been asked this many times too. I don’t think the place is done with me, yet some ways, some days I think I made it. I made it still standing on the ground my forefathers set out for me. I was screamed out of the jealousy, the anger and pain to make a life that supports my family, along with many others. I by far am not a rich man, however in the mind and in the heart is where richness dwells telling, saying to me that even another dollar wouldn’t help me if my heart is still in darkness.
History has it that you will and can be beat down by those close’s around you, they, your enemy is closer than you think..

A stones throw is a Bruja watching, conjuring up the devil, destroying her self in her negativity.
A mile down is a blade master waiting to stab you in the back.
To the east is the one you loved selling your soul to the world and still she looks towards you wondering why, why won’t he give in.
On the north-side a blackness births revenge for another on the south-side who pulled a trigger instead of walking away.
Inside the sacredness of the kiva is evil gossip

Once again I say, “it’s not for everyone,” It’s like we’re in a war with ourselves; Very few have the interests of the people in mind; very few are stable and knowledgeable enough to sit in office and run a society. The devil will makes things beautiful before he reveals his true nature.

I’m not gonna give in however i will choose the best fight because this chosen way is where my blood will dry, with-in all the sadness and fast disappearing goodness…I feel the most alive here in this sinful place, i couldn’t and wouldn’t run away even if I could. The ground between my feet, in a gentle run, makes me come alive. The crisp cold, cold air brings me a breath that only my Grandpa’s can bring. In this place there is no use for the one who gives up. We need people who want to live in the enemy lines of our mind and still dancing, moving the wet cold earth with ancient steps even after days of fighting in the icy mud. We need warriors that can still sing, pull hides, run, plant, harvest; We need warriors! Warrior’s that don’t get drunk every night, warriors who buy food for their families instead of another bag of high; We need warriors who let go of the synthetic plastic drug-filled artificial sensation of being alive,alive.

Any day, any idiot can be addicted. It’s harder to walk away at times but its easier to survive to live another day to contemplate in being the strong, good, powerful Pueblo man.

good food, good run, good run, good sleep, good sleep,
good day, good day, good song, good song, good dance, good dance, good people…

Even with all that has and is thrown at us from the world we are still a MAGIC people; the unstable, stablizing form with songs beers in hand, changing wind patterns with shotguns, making the rain dance with a smell of cheap booze. There is no place to run or a place to hide eventually if we survive our enevitable fate catches up to us all and if were ready we can sit where the elder sits. Our way is dying for sure and there’s nothing we can do about it, as for the chosen ones, we will sing the songs of death and birth, conjure up the spirits of hunters, contemplate spear points flying deep into buffalo,dream with cougar chasing deer into their cold grottoes, with in the stillness and between the tiny silence, is the soft shuffling of feet the run of winter, pushing breath I will be running the old trails – cold, wet, frozen.

The snow falls and brings forth a deathly silence, burying troubles, melting away in the spring, giving birth in the medicine plants.

“Nothing can be done, MERRY CHRISTMAS HO! HO! HO! HEY YA HEY YA; It’s a beautiful, humble, crazy, lovely, dying race.” Some of you might say, “You can’t say that.” However, I chose to live here, i know this place its my back yard, with all its Brujas and Angelitos; this is my world as you see me playing a beautiful flute song on some random stage. If you haven’t lived this pueblo life or understand what happened or refuse to see whats happening to the children of the beautiful corn-flute, It’s just another song of lament on some cd, fantasizing, conjouring about what it used to be like.

We are the last surviving warriors of old who chose to live at this time; the ones that push, twist the fulcrum points of the earth. Without us, everything will die, and we are dying.

There is no place to run away to except into the cold trails of the east and the north, away from all the fake world and all the artifice Indian players in so called media painted in pretty pictures, skinny warriors dancing, filled with feathers; sad to say those men and days are gone. What you will find now is a stoned, fat old guy, drunk, dancing with borrowed moccasins, yet still dancing the dance of old fighting not to loose faith, if we loose faith we die and without our belief we are nothing; we must believe that even a small song a small dance and maybe a small run into the fog will change the course of our world.

maybe…just maybe you know now a little of why I run on the icy trails of winter?

Running gives me a better perspective; I sing songs. I memorize chants. I give my breath to the unknown dying stars, the fading moon, the glory of the fading sun. I feel alive when I face the dying coldness. The cold ground beneath my feet somewhere on the old trails is where the warmness, humbleness of a Pueblo man come to life, where real ideas are birthed; then to sleep the good sleep, the sleep that the body needs to justify regaining strength to face another day.

I’m so alive. Finally my hunger is real – the true hunger for life, the discipline of body and mind, the pueblo warriors way.

Looming Taos mountain covered in mystery.

Yes a good holiday gift would be a load of wood, staying warm, staying warm, staying warm…


24 thoughts on “Running in Ice/ A Load of Wood is a Good Christmas Present.”

  1. Keep up the good fight, Warrior – to few of you around these days – so also in my tribe. Some of us, however will keep ‘running’ whether we can physically run the trails or do so in our hearts.

  2. This is what i have been experiencing lately. The craziness of this world and the lack of compassion for our fellow beings. I need to get back to the land, the very essence of my being, the clay from which i came and will return some day. I feel the only way we can talk with “our” maker is to be with him/her. You run, i hike with my dog companion, who is also exploring his roots and returning the his ancestral home of being a wolf. Thank you for you inspirational words and encouragement!!

  3. Powerful words…full of truth, sadness and strength. Even these words are too meager to honor what you’ve shared. Your eyes “see” the truth and your faith lets you accept what is. Run well, brother…run well!

  4. I am deeply in gratitude to those who have held the traditional knowledge and the energy of this Earth, for so very long. These teachings and energy feed and guide us all. It is helping us to awaken, and to return to living in harmony with Mother Earth, as we were meant to do, and without you and yours living, breathing, and dying for it, I don’t believe I’d be here now. Thank you!

  5. in some ways i completely understand what you say about where you live. For i have left home many times only to be pulled back by some unseen force. i was born here, so was my family many generations back..
    my father was a Metis (mixed Blood) we live in Indiana some people seem to think their is no Native Americans in the state of Indiana, the word Indiana means Land of the Indian. this is my home. my family was Indian thou at the time when i was growing up here i had no knowledge of my Native blood. it was later that our father told us.
    since then i have found myself slowing going back to the ways of my people. it seem strange at first. but now i understand why i always came home i can’t live any where else and be happy i belong here and will die here.
    when i raise in the morning to see the snow falling and the Little snow birds out side my window. i am content and thankful that my parents lay in grown of my ancestors.
    i love reading your stories your a good writer. i thought what you said about the devil making things look beautiful. them you see him for what he really is was good.
    God bless you Robert i love your music, and your dance and your words

  6. I have reasons why i can not run with you in body… but your eyes would be mine in spirit … winter is my time…
    so I would Wait for your home coming.. fire burning.. coffee hot and sweet to warm the blood… and pot pf meat and seeds and vegetables cooked ready to enjoy…
    This is how i would honor the Warrior best … bring friends..
    make a meet out of it.. laughter would fill the souls and homes… smiles.. NO greater love will you have than real food.. real friends… and a warm fire … from this.. anything is possible..

    Run for yourself .. Run for your life… run for those who can’t anymore…Run for the grand fathers who will watch you go past and chuckle shaking heads at the craziness of the young warrior who dares to brave the cold… and who will cheer and shout when you return,,, with more laughter and knowing smiles….Run for those who have lost their ways… and will in their drunken haze suddenly burst out in a few words of an old chant shuffling a few soggy steps in desperate need to re connect with past ones and with traditions almost lost…. Run for all these things… but always for yourself first…
    Not because you are self centered and selfish… but because this is your healing.. and with out that you would not go on long… to help them all you must first keep yourself strong…

    Run for us all friend… A’ho

  7. Run, Robert, Run!

    Funny I should come across this – I just started running again in the New York cold – people think I’m nuts but I find it uplifting!

    Peace and Blessings to you, your family, your beloved Pueblo…

  8. Your writing tells clearly of the draw and consciousness of the ancestors, whether of your or mine (Druids and ancient Britons), ancestral knowledge is the common calling to those aware of their presence. Enjoy those runs, Robert; let them be a part of the dance and music you hear and perform so eloquently. Safe journey on your performance travels as well.

  9. Beautiful Robert!!!! Your words awaken my spirit in many ways, words that bring my indian heritage so alive within me.I have been searching for so long to understand the urgency that i have felt even as a small child to seek out and understand where i truly come from as far as my indian roots and heritage are concerned. I have felt so incomplete until i fully understand that part of who i am. your words have a way of making it so real and alive for me.
    I feel as though i know you in many ways when i read your words and the day that i heard your heart in song on stage in New Orleans, it’s as though i connected instantly to you in my spirit.
    I am sure there are many that feel the same and all i can say is Run Strong my friend and you and your family are in my prayers. I am also on my on journey and traveling at this point in my life and most of it i am doing alone but it is definately opening me up to much growth and strength within me that has been asleep until this time in my life and is now being awakened.

    GodBless you,

    Paula R. Abalos

  10. Robert,
    You have been chosen to bring truth to those who will listen.
    Your spear has pierced my heart, there is no turning back.
    Push forward on the ancestral trails, let them rejuvenate your
    body and soul.
    Breath out the pain, welcome the earth’s love with open arms.
    May your fires burn bright and guide you along the way.
    May the purest love fall gently on you, as a snowflake from the sky.
    You speak for yourself, your Pueblo, the Earth!
    May your words be heard throughout the world!
    PEACE and thank you for being YOU!
    With love and respect!

  11. When I was a girl, I was sexually abused by my Father & my Grandfather. When I became a woman and the abuse was no longer, I continued to make poor choices for my Self “because of the past”, I thought.
    Then children (children!) who came into my life, had been more abused, and were making better choices than I showed me that it was me who was hurting my Self. That’s when I took on my own healing.
    Through many miles and with the help of numerous, wondrous allies I am well. My addiction was the last to go. It had been a good friend – a tender mercy – through unspeakable heartache.
    Now I see that I was holding that darkness to me – tethered to me! – through my addiction. I have come to know this action of mine as yet another face of Papa Legba. Perfectly happy the Devil is to see us tether ourselves.
    Recently, True Love has come knocking at my door. And I tell you now, I will answer his knock with an open door, a warm embrace, and a burning fire that only he can quench. I will not believe the worst of him because he is a man. He is not my Father. He is not my Grandfather.
    Together, we will see the beauty that only we can create.
    I have known a cold that goes deeper than the bone and now that my heart is alive and warm again, I will not be prisoner to the past.

  12. AwesOMe entry…aheehee…come to my snowshoe race: sat. Feb 8 up here beneath Dibe Nitsaa….many Warriors will be there…running into ourselves…into our Great Mysteries of Self and Being and Becoming…

  13. Robert your words leave me breathless.
    I think we all long for our childhood. A time we can make sense of. I am quite a bit older than you, but when I was a child we all respected our elders, our parents, our siblings and friends. We were pleased to pitch in and help in all circumstances. It is a different time now. Maybe it is because we see so much on TV, at the movies and now the computer. We are cloaked in an angry, sad, despicable world filled with addictions and people who do not care enough about anyone else to leave the bad stuff alone or want to care for those who are weaker than they are. They have lost all pride of what it means to be human and what responsibilities go along with that. Then there is you, and without you, there would be many more who would succumb to the easy way out.
    You are blessed, the Creator has put a heavy burden on you, but the Creator is omnipotent and makes no mistakes.
    Feel blessed that you have the strength to carry this burden.

  14. Thank you Robert for such beautiful words and expressions. A friend just mentioned a Bruja to me on the phone and that I should take care of myself. He and his lady have always had my back and they are one of the few things that I miss since I left Texas. There is not much else. I always felt out of place and my moving here to Taos has brought much more peace into my life and – more Beauty also. I am thankful for all your gifts to all the People in the world and pray for you and your family. As this year comes to an end, I wish you many blessings for the next year. Your words on running make me feel more alive than any ever have so run on. See you on the 21st!

  15. WTF Mate! You just took the Hollywood right out of Taos Pueblo for me. I hate when that happens – another illusion bites the dust.
    A brujaha, a backstabbing blade master, a soul pusher, and revenge all running around loose at the Pueblo and working, actively working toward destruction of the people?
    ‘We all have to get along’ does NOT mean that you allow the destruction of your family, your people. BTW bringing the sun up in the morning and putting the sun to rest in the evening means that if The People That Are go, we all go. (Translation: There are many Awakened Ones who will help…but you’re gonna have to ask for help. Chief used to tell me all the time that we’ve forgotten how to ask, and they’re just waiting to be asked.)
    Waxing nostalgic is okay, I guess. But if you want it to be different, you’re going to have to fight. Not that old bloody mess we’ve all known too much of, this is a different kind of fight calling for a different kind of Warrior. They are in your backyard.
    This blog has helped me see what I must do too. I have been railroaded out of my own home…enough of that shit!
    Please, for all our sake, ask.

  16. GOD grant the Serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. All the best for you Mirabal dear, you are a warrior and therefore your spirit is on a Road of Life Running, in motion of Life, its important, it is good, it is Beautiful!

  17. You, my friend, are a poet.

    I just celebrated my 70th birthday with a much-needed respite in my beloved Taos. Back “home” now in Houston, my heart is heavy. My heart always chooses to wait for me in Taos. Someday………

    Blessings ~

  18. I have been enlightened to a truth by your words…we are our people and we are where we come from…the run helps one to remember this. Even the darker aspects of community and self have to be acknowledged as there will always be a dark to the light and vice versa — it is the way of it — the need for balance is a profound universal truth. I periodically move home. To a place not unlike how you’ve described the pueblo you live at. My community is a reservation on the plains where my people too have existed for eons. I am not there at this time though, work has me a few states away these days – but my mind is often wondering about life back home – even with the frequent phone and text visits. My heart is always there though, tucked under some lodge pole pine up by the glacier fields in our mountains. I often wonder how often my people look at our mountains these days – how often they venture up into them anymore. It is there that the heart of our people is found and felt. Thank you Robert for sharing…needed this today.

  19. Robert, your words are so similar to my life. I am a native southern new mexican living a rural life in the area of my ancestors. I wander the woods daily, which soothes my soul and puts so many things into perspective. I gather wood for my fires and do many tasks each day that our society deems out of date and too difficult to contemplate. I run when I am happy, when I am upset, when I want to brush away the silly issues of the day, or just because.
    Your words are wise and I feel the struggle and passion you have for your people. Where there are warriors such as yourself, the road may be long, but stay the course. Your actions and music will serve those who will come after you.
    With Kind Regards,

  20. Dec. 18, 2013

    Dear Robert:

    I read your words and think about my life, my successes and my losses. The thing that remains true and in my heart for always and ever is no matter where I have been in this world; I always navigate back to home or very close to it. I have a son and family in Colorado and I love the mountain air as much as I love the ocean breeze. You say you will be in Denver, the mile high city, this Saturday….enjoy your travels, for as you know those travels always bring us back home. Running is your way of clearing your mind and body just as jumping on the back of a beautiful frisky horse on a cool Florida morning is mine. He does the running for me, yet my body runs with him and without it I would be lost. You are an inspiration to man…so many types of men there are now; good or bad… we just have to trust that we live our life in honor and by doing so we will have all the gifts that we have earned until the very end. I wish you and your readers a magical and beautiful holiday season. Hope you enjoy the following poem; it is an old one but oh so true. Merry Christmas, Sherry

    I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

    I heard the bells on Christmas day
    Their old familiar carols play,
    And wild and sweet the words repeat
    Of peace on earth, good will to men.

    I thought how, as the day had come,
    The belfries of all Christendom
    Had rolled along th’unbroken song
    Of peace on earth, good will to men.

    And in despair I bowed my head:
    ‘There is no peace on earth, ‘ I said
    ‘For hate is strong, and mocks the song
    Of peace on earth, good will to men.’

    Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
    ‘God is not dead, nor doth He sleep;
    The wrong shall fail, the right prevail,
    With peace on earth, good will to men.’

    Till, ringing, singing on its way,
    The world revolved from night to day
    A voice, a chime, a chant sublime,
    Of peace on earth, good will to men.

  21. Write more, thats all I have to say. Literally, it seems as though you relied on the video to make your point.

    You obviously know what youre talking about, why
    throw away your intelligence on just posting videos to your site when you could be giving us something
    informative to read?

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