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Nomadkins dispatch, 7.17.23

“Do you have anything for healing?” I blurt it out, trying to disguise a grimace with a smile, leaning on my hiking pole inside the Ojibwe Art Gallery (rather impatient to scarf another handful of Motrin, crawl back in the bed and ice down my knee.)

“Excuse me?” Marcie, the proprietor, asks. She’s about my age. Pulling up her minty-green face mask, she takes a step towards me.

“Sorry,” I say, mumbling. “I mean do have anything that might promote healing. Like, you know, symbolically?”

Her answer (a question, in fact) takes me aback.

“Don’t we all need healing?”

Hmm. Not the answer/question I expect.

Suddenly, I’m not thinking about my aching knee (and how they shoot old, lame horses), but rather about all the people in the world hurting more than me. As well as all the people I may have hurt in my lifetime through my actions or inactions, selfishness, unconsciousness, etc.

Yikes. Point taken—whether she meant to send me there or not.

Marcie, a local beadwork and jewelry artist, told me she learned her craft from her mother and grandmother, both of whom used to create astoundingly beautiful hand-made gifts and wearables to sell to Grand Portage visitors. Think brilliantly colored Lake Superior agate jewelry, birch bark baskets, beaded deerskin moccasins, etc.

After browsing a bit, I make a few purchases and thank Marcie. While boxing up my items, she eventually lowers her mask which reveals a smile of gratefulness.

Naturally, while hobbling back out to my car, I begin to feel equally grateful—or more so—for the sudden dose of perspective you can’t buy in any bricks-and-mortar or online store (sorry, Tiffany & Co., sorry, Etsy).

Click here for more about Marcie.

Until next time, I’ll do my best to send healing vibes your way, along with as much cool, Canadian air I can muster. 🇨🇦 🙌. Thanks—as always—for your readership and support!

Peace & Love,

Mark