Indigenize!

Rekindle Your Wild Joy and sense of deep Belonging through spiritual ecopsychology and the arts, incl. bioregional awareness, animistic perspectives, strategies for simple living, & low/no-tech DIY fun.

Square Dance in the Rural West: An Oral History July 26, 2016

Don & Fay promenade

Check out my new article in the Country Dance and Song Society (CDSS) online journal. It’s based on interviews with my elders, who can really tell a story, and contains small photos of those faboo 1950s dance outfits.

Best of all is getting to witness how community dance like square dance or contra dance forges community.

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“Square dancing hit its heyday in the far west during the 1950s, and many elder members of my family were heavily involved in it. Hank Fields, my dad, was a popular square dance caller long before I was born. I follow lightly in his footsteps as a contra dance caller today; thus my interest in what the dance scene had been like for him. What are the similarities and differences with dance today? And what got so many people so passionately interested in square dancing back then?

“At a Fields/Glascock “inlaws & outlaws” family reunion held on my cousin’s ranch in rural Idaho during the summer of 2003, I spoke with a number of older folks who had been active in the square dance scene back in the 1950s, asking about their experiences.”

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 To read the whole thing, go to:

CD+S Online, vol.1

Or get directly to my article itself

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 I hope you like it! Please leave comments here.

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Dreams at 98 May 6, 2015

Filed under: Adventures,With Elderly Parents — BrujaHa @ 11:38 pm
Tags: , , , ,

Dad, 2013

My dad has been having dreams about my long-dead mom. At first he didn’t want to tell me their content. They’re sexy dreams; sweet dreams. He’s in bed with her. He gets up to go to the bathroom, and they are conversing. So simple; so sweet.

He often feels now that she, or his also-deceased second wife, are there in the room with him. Sometimes he gets the strong sensation that one of them is in a room he’s just about to enter, and he’s surprised when he opens the door to find she is not there — even though he knows full well they’ve not got bodies anymore.

The veils between the worlds are growing thin for him.

This is one element of what it means to be 98 years old.

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I haven’t been writing about life with him here. I share some stuff with my friends on Facebook, but not here because I keep thinking this blog should not be personal in nature, but of widespread interest. The longer I go through this journey with my beloved elder, though, the more I shake my head and think, “Wow, I sure wish I’d known about that before.” So I’m going to start writing about it here for myself to process and help remember, and also for you folks, because there’s a chance you might find something useful for yourself in my experiences. And also because what the heck: life is short, and stories are best shared.