COYOTE
Trickster, clown,
jester, artist, friend, bringer of chaos and fun, teaching
us to let go and laugh
and, like the Hopi clowns, teaching us how silly
we look to the gods
when we take ourselves too seriously.
Coyote has been my
guide for years. Our animal helpers choose
us more than we choose
them. I’ve always been drawn to coyotes,
and they to me. I
wanted a wolf, eagle, or bear as my muse,
but I got Coyote
instead.
Coyote has taught me
the wisdom of making people laugh,
of helping people to
take themselves and their painful situations less
seriously as a
precursor to healing. I work like Coyote. I give people
experiences that
challenge their usual worldview. I introduce constructive
chaos, trusting the
inner healer in all my patients to reorganize
perceptions and
beliefs toward a state of greater healing. I teach people
to welcome the
unexpected, learning flexibility and resiliency.
This is the essence of
Coyote ---the only animal whose territory
and range have spread
despite encroaching civilization. Coyote is
a survivor, as we all
hope to be.
(Coyote Healing. Miracles in Native Medicine, Lewis Mehl-Madrona: 7)
(kî · ó · tee or kí · oht or koy · ó · tày )
, noun; pl. –tes.
2. Slang. A
contemptible person, especially a greedy or deceitful one.
5. Coy-o-te,
–tying, –ted, verb. To steal, pilfer, take, or acquire by devious or
deceitful means.
Coyote, one small
musical word that has so many myriad meanings and entities —a wild dog, a
clown, a despicable person, a thief, vermin to be eradicated, anything
worthless, someone cunning, pirated works, a romantic twilight voice on the
wind, a dangerous sorcerer.
In pre-Columbian timelessness, the coyote inhabited only the west-central portion of North and Central America. With the advancing
tide of European settlement across the continent, the coyote and its cousin,
the wolf, were seen as a threat to livestock, crops, and human life, and were
summarily persecuted, with bullets, traps, clubs, poison, and bad press. The
wolf declined, and eventually required “re-introduction” to his old haunts. But
the coyote increased, spreading his joyful song beyond the old possibilities,
right into the noise of the urban world.
What is Coyote's trickery? What is his wisdom? How has
he outwitted death? A keen adaptability isn't the only key to survival. Coyote
has something more, much more. In many southwestern cultures Coyote is supreme
over the wolf, some describing the wolf as a “big coyote,” instead of coyote as
a little wolf. Coyote's adaptability, ingenuity, and intelligence are renowned
and celebrated, not just among modern biologists, but throughout prehistory.
His ability to endure is unparalleled. Yet this alone didn't make Coyote
sacred. His engaging personality, comic playfulness, exuberant celebration,
boundless joy, and extraordinary cunning marked him as something from the
spirit world.
Many primordial tribal tales provide a glimpse of
Coyote's mystical power. In most, Coyote isn't merely a wild dog, but divine,
an immortal spirit that brought his universal magic and good medicine to the
First People. The Crow tribe describes him as the Creator of the world and all
it holds, the First Artist, the First Worker.
Coyote brought the gift of storytelling and music to some. He stole fire and gave it to the Apaches. He licked the wounds of dying Kiowa warriors and healed them. He lay beside beautiful women and made them pregnant. Called “God's Dog” by the Navaho, who see him as originator of death and bringer of dreams, Coyote is both trickster and wise counselor. When Fire God was placing stars in the sky, Coyote stole Fire God's pouch of stars, placed his own Coyote Star in the heavens and scattered all the rest. This Trickster can breathe sickness and dark sorcery into his victims, who then require the cleansing of the Coyote Way Ceremony.
Coyote brought the gift of storytelling and music to some. He stole fire and gave it to the Apaches. He licked the wounds of dying Kiowa warriors and healed them. He lay beside beautiful women and made them pregnant. Called “God's Dog” by the Navaho, who see him as originator of death and bringer of dreams, Coyote is both trickster and wise counselor. When Fire God was placing stars in the sky, Coyote stole Fire God's pouch of stars, placed his own Coyote Star in the heavens and scattered all the rest. This Trickster can breathe sickness and dark sorcery into his victims, who then require the cleansing of the Coyote Way Ceremony.
Coyote was a symbol
or totem of the Hopi Coyote Clan and Water Coyote Clan.
The word coyote
derives from the Nahuatl language of the Aztec: coyotl; and Mayan: koyotl.
In the Aztec pantheon,Huehuecoyotl or Old Man Coyote (Huehue = old
man), was an ancient and sacred shape. Perhaps scorn for him came from the
influence of the first Spanish padres —a fear of his magic, of his ability to use
darkness and windsong, and revulsion of his uninhibited sexual appetites. And
howling at it all with unabashed delight.
Such a god or
spirit certainly would have rattled the piety of Spanish priests and given them
reason to condemn the lusty Coyote to sulfur and brimstone.
Whatever started the censure, gradually the power and
magic, the humor and wisdom, the music and unrestrained joy of Coyote was
diminished. Today
Coyote magic is spoken of as “evil,” perhaps due to centuries of European
beliefs of “witchcraft.” The institutional Church of Rome painted anything
“magic” with a demonized brush. There was to be no more healing of the sick or
raising of the dead —that was “magic,” “evil,” the work of the dark spirits. If
something seemed unnatural, it was condemned as witchery. Many tribal shamans
were slain to stop their magic. In Europe, such healers and those who saw
things before they happened or who communicated with the dead, were condemned
as witches and tortured and burned and dismembered. For a very long time those
in power have been destroying the shamans (witches, healers, magicians,
whatever they label them) because their power is outside the realm of political
control. The industrial revolution stuffed such creatures into the closet of fairytales
or condemned them as madness and delusion. The churches made them a thing of
sin. Yeshua, Jesus,The Christ, would have been burned at the stake for his
powers had he come on the scene in 16th century Europe. Indeed, he was slain
for the same reasons — he was a threat to those in power. Once condemned,
he was reshaped into a buffoon, to be laughed at and mocked. His deep sorcery,
inherited from the belly of the earth, became taboo, and Coyote staggered down
the road as nothing more than a drunken reprobate. His supernatural power has
been stripped away. He's just a bauble, or a pest, a poultry killer, a sheep
eater, a creature despised. Eradication of his ilk has been a goal for more
than a century. The going rate paid to bounty hunters for proof of death - a
pair of coyote ears - has been $7.50, and sometimes as high as $20. Yet
slaughter by air, by land, by poison; their bodies heaped up and photographed,
their reviled carcasses hung to rot on fences, and their legs broken in traps,
have all failed to silence the Song Dog. Years ago I saw a coyote without ears,
resurrected, hunting, laughing at the one who robbed him.
The more Coyote is persecuted, the more Coyote
thrives. Once
only a creature of the West, Coyote is now living coast to coast, in Canada,
Mexico, Costa Rica, and Alaska; from cities to wilderness, their dominion
expanded because of something we failed to see: humans cannot destroy magic,
cannot kill spirit. His song keeps him in communion with the Four Worlds - the
earth, the sky, his mortal world, and the divine.
If we listen, he
teaches us to do the same: not to lose touch with the Four Worlds. When we are
in balance, then we can heal one another, trace our names in the stars, and
teach peace to our children. Coyote has taught me how to keep a wild heart,
whether in the darkness of a prison or the freedom of wilderness. He has taught
me that at times I must walk in silence to stay alive, and other times I must
celebrate with abandon. Wild is the unfettered landscape that is critical for
human survival, but like Coyote, if I find myself surrounded by too much glass
and steel, with hard pavement chafing my soul, I can rely on Earth to find me.
Coyote has shown me that I can put myself in the
presence of Being without fear. He has told me that Ancient Magic can't be
destroyed. The stories can be silenced or made taboo. The creature can be
recreated as something pious, or when that utterly fails, as in the case of
Coyote, robbed of power by stripping it to the least dangerous elements — the
laughter. But who's laughing?
Coyote has lost no power. He sings and laughs and celebrates Being every twilight. And my spirit is with him.
Coyote has lost no power. He sings and laughs and celebrates Being every twilight. And my spirit is with him.
Coyote is restored
to his ancient place among the stars. His image, with the Maasaw or a shaman,
is traced on the kiva wall. He is honored for his magic, not feared; respected
for his wisdom, not ridiculed. He is a symbol of expectation, of endurance, of
a renewal and healing of Earth. He is a symbol of music, dance, exuberance and
joy. Storytelling and poetry are his gifts. Coyote Kiva celebrates these gifts,
celebrates life, and in celebration there is healing.
Coyote is a loyal and invinctible companion for those
who dare to speak out against injustice, those who refuse to be silenced by
lies, those who dare to heal, dare to dream a better world, those who are
willing to call down lightning when it is needed.
Written by Mossy
Coyote and compiled by Samanta Vega