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A Memory from the Vision Quest

As I write, the wind blows fiercely through the trees outside the home of my guests. I recall the Oso Mario telling us, in the temazcal, that in the wind whispered the "ancianos," or the "ancient ones." Sometimes, the wind, especially on days when I need something to motivate me, reminds me of the importance of mindfulness. I try to think of it as calling to me to tell me, "Listen, Shunka Wakan." I try to imagine it as the voice of the ancianos. Often, on these windy days, I recall the vision quest. Having had recently separated myself from my family ... my wife, at the time and my daughters, Aliric and Sunny ... for an answer to my situation with my daughters. It was one of those wordless questions, which, put into words, would perhaps translate to, "What should I do to be closer to my daughters?" or "What can I do about this situation with my daughters?" The morning had been still, or so I thought, and, at that moment, a gust o