Ochún was a wealthy and powerful queen, but her world fell apart when hostile warlords invaded her territory. They killed her servants, stole her riches, burned down her palace, and threatened to rape and kill her if she fell into their hands. Fearing the worst, she ran for her life. Her only possessions were the one white dress and a few jewels she was wearing when the invaders arrived. She ran deep into the forest and found refuge at the edge of the river.

​She collapsed into an exhausted heap, her hair and clothing in disarray. The sight of her reflection in the water caused her to burst into tears, for Ochún had been very vain up until this point. She had always loved to bathe in the river and admire her beautiful reflection in the water. She loved to sit there and comb her long beautiful hair. Her hair had always been her pride and joy, but now it was tangled and matted. 
 
Time passed and she had to sell the jewels she wore to buy food. She washed her dress so many times in the river, it turned yellow from old age and wear. On top of everything else, her hair fell out from worrying so much and from malnutrition. She felt very alone and despondent, and she knelt at the river’s edge and cried until she was hoarse and her eyes were red and swollen. Her tears flowed into the river and out to the sea, where her sister, Yemayá, heard her and came to her rescue. 

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“Please don’t cry anymore, Ochún!” begged Yemayá.  “I’ll help you. From this day forward, all the gold in the river will be yours. You’ll be a wealthy woman again. And, I will also give you all the coral in the sea, so you can adorn yourself with it. You’ll be beautiful again. I’ll give you gold cloth so you can dress like a queen. From now on, gold will be your color.  You’ll always dress in gold, to remind everyone of your status. You’ll be a wealthy  and powerful queen again, wait and see!” 
 
“But I’m all alone and have no one to keep me company,” Ochún cried.
 
“Don’t worry,” replied Yemayá. “I’ll give you my most beloved and precious bird, the peacock, to be your companion. His beauty is second only to yours.”
 
“But my hair, my beautiful tresses! All gone! Without my hair, I’m nothing,” lamented Ochún. 
 
“My sister, don’t you see that my love for you has no bounds? I will cut off my own hair and give it to you, so you can make a wig for yourself until your hair grows back.” With that, Yemayá cut off her more prized treasure, her long beautiful hair, and handed it to her sister. 

​Ochún was overwhelmed with gratitude and love for her sister. She started to cry again, but this time, with tears of happiness. With her beauty, confidence, and wealth restored, Ochún returned to her rightful place as queen and was able to defeat her enemies. 
 
This pataki explains the reason Ochún and Yemayá work closely together. They look after and defend each other’s children. It also explains why daughters of Ochún and Yemayá usually don’t cut their hair too much. Long flowing hair is a symbol of their feminine strength and beauty. In addition, the pataki tells us why Ochún dresses in gold, and how the peacock became associated with her.

The story reminds us that Ochún's life wasn't always easy. We associate her with beauty and pleasure, happiness and joy, but she also knows extreme hardship. She's like the phoenix that rises from its own ashes, because she's able to overcome terrible obstacles and triumph in spite of them. She's sometimes helped by one of the other Orishas, like Yemayá in this story, so she understands the importance of strategic alliances. She expresses deep gratitude to those who support her, and repays them with affection and loyalty. 

Let's continue to look at some of the proverbs that come from the Letter of the Year from the Sociedad el Cristo, Palmira, Cuba. This one talks specifically about the tendency some of us have to overextend ourselves and interfere in things that don't concern us.

​It's hard to draw a clear line between the desire to help someone and the need to interfere in another person's business.  With the best of intentions, we can easily overstep boundaries and get involved in situations that have nothing to do with us. It's hard to sit back and watch other people make mistakes or do things that we consider wrong.  When Ofún (10) appears in a reading, it talks about a person who has a big heart and undefined boundaries. Under the influence of Ofún, we can spend all our time helping other people and give away so many of our resources that at the end of the day, we have nothing left for ourselves.  We offer help, even when it's not requested, and with single-minded determination, we move in to fix problems that aren't our own.  This proverb reminds us that we have to be realistic and ask ourselves why we're acting on behalf of another person, and where is that need coming from?  Why do we have to try to fix the problems of the whole world? 

​Proverbs aren't meant to be taken literally, so the neighbor's dog isn't necessarily a real dog.  The neighbor might not be a real neighbor, but simply an acquaintance.  Our desire to give bread to the neighbor's dog is a symbol of our overextended boundaries.  We're giving bread - the staff of life, some say - to someone else's dog. Metaphorically, we're running the show for someone else, taking over responsibilities that aren't ours.  The dog isn't ours, and we don't have control over it.  The neighbor can lock the dog up, give the dog away, move away and take the dog, or otherwise remove the dog from our sphere of influence.  We have no say in what happens to the dog.  We can give it bread, but we can't determine the dog's fate.   It's important to remember that these proverbs come from an ancient culture, before laws existed about animal rights, before bags of dog food were available on supermarket shelves.  The proverbs come from a culture where people experienced economic hardship from time to time, and perhaps lacked food to feed their own families.  To take on the ownership of a pet, like a dog, required thought and planning, because dogs need to be fed.  To take on the responsibility of a neighbor's dog is foolish in this light, because we're putting ourselves in a situation where we're making sacrifices (giving up our bread) for a dog that we don't own.  There's no reward for our generosity. We'll lose the bread, and we'll lose the dog, because the dog wasn't ours in the first place. 

​Take some time to consider what's going on in your life? What responsibilities have you taken on that aren't your own?  The proverb doesn't ask you to go to extremes and stop helping people.  It doesn't tell you to put a halt to generosity and compassion.  It just asks you to think about what you're doing, and draw some limits.  No matter how well off we are, our time and resources are limited.  Are we using them in the best way?  Are we trying to help people who are at the fringes of our lives rather than people who are very close to us? Are we helping everyone else and neglecting ourselves?  Regla de Ocha is a religion that encourages people to behave in sensible and practical ways, to keep feet grounded in reality and see things as they really are.  Interfering in someone else's business is not always about generous impulses. Sometimes it's about the need to control. Sometimes it's about confused priorities.  Sometimes it's bad judgment. Maybe you need to focus on your own needs and your own problems, and let other people deal with their issues by themselves.  Don't turn a blind eye to the needs of your family and very close friends, but don't try to save everyone you know.  The world is a big place, and there's only so much of you to go around.  Be sure your energy gets used where it will do the most good.

The letter of the year has meaning on both a personal level and a more universal one. In terms of how this odu might affect the world at large, we need to think about how governments, organizations, or particular groups of people  are, perhaps with very good intentions, overstepping boundaries and trying to "fix" problems that are not their own. Again, this is not to say that no one should ever help anyone, but to keep in mind that sometimes its best to let people resolve their own problems. The wisdom comes in knowing when to help, and how.

Using the letter of the year of 2016 from the Sociedad el Cristo in Palmira, Cuba, as a point of reference, let's look at some of the advice that comes from the ruling Odu of the year (10-5) and what kind of wisdom we can glean from understanding the proverbs associated with that sign. This proverb talks about how we acquire wisdom, but also points out the need for patience and respect toward elders. These are fundamental concepts in the Lucumí worldview.

Many times we assume people who are very knowledgeable or very skilled were born with superior minds, and we underestimate the life experience that went into acquiring that knowledge. We attribute their ability to win arguments, outwit other people, and come out on top to some mysterious power they have, an uncanny sense of perception or insights into human character that the rest of us lack.  In folklore, there are countless stories about encounters between humans and the devil, in which the devil tricks the human in some way, often by letting the human's naiveté create the conditions where he falls into the devil's trap. The message is: who can outwit the devil? He has supernatural powers, and we're merely human.

​In the Lucumí religion, the devil doesn't exist. But this proverb, borrowed from Spanish culture, illustrates a way of thinking that is central to Lucumí philosophy. Knowledge and skill are acquired over time. The longer you live, the more wisdom and insight you have. Our elders know more than we do because they've lived longer, they've experienced more, and they've seen more than we have.  When we're young, we may be very smart, but we lack the long view that elders have. We're less able to see connections and patterns, simply because our life experiences haven't given us enough material to work with yet.
 
Not all old people are wise, however. It requires effort to acquire knowledge, and it requires patience and humility to acquire wisdom. People have to pay attention, observe, reflect, listen to others, consider other points of view, and be open to new knowledge during every phase of their life. Those who think they know it all stop learning and they limit themselves in terms of what they know. Those who talk all the time about what they know aren't paying attention to what other people are saying or doing. Those who sit back and listen, learn. They gain insight into why people do what they do, what motivates them, and what creates obstacles for them. This gives them an ability to judge character, and also understand human behavior in a way that can be used for good or bad purposes, depending on their own character. They can manipulate and trick people, or they can help and guide people. Not all wise people are kind. The proverb cautions us to recognize the devil when we encounter him, but not to fear him. He has no supernatural powers over us; he simply has lived longer. If we live long enough, we'll know as much as he does. How we use our wisdom is up to us.

The proverb also suggests that we learn just by living our lives. We have to go out into the world and interact with people. We have to try new things, and we have to accept that making mistakes is part of life. We can learn from them, and know how to avoid them in the future. If we pay attention to the world around us, and our own reactions to that world, we can gain a depth and breadth of knowledge that helps us live more intelligently.  The odu Ofun-oché talks about the importance of remaining calm, being patient, and waiting for the work we do to yield rewards. This advice applies to the acquisition of knowledge and skill. The longer you do something, the more naturally it will come to you. Trying to do things in a hurry and take shortcuts puts you in the way of temptation. As you look for an easy way out, you can fall into traps set by those who will try to manipulate or use you. Actively build your base of knowledge, but recognize that you always have more to learn. Keep your eyes open, and take your time getting where you want to go.
 
In the Lucumí religion, good and evil exist, but they aren't personified by supernatural beings. They reside inside human beings. Every person has the potential to do good or bad deeds. Any "devil" that exists in our world is a human being who has chosen to use his intelligence and skills to do bad things. When we choose to do something we know is bad, there's no devil standing on our shoulder, whispering in our ear, to tempt us to do it. It's our own nature calling out to us, giving us permission to choose between good and bad. Sometimes we choose bad because all humans have seeds of it inside them. Humans are responsible for their choices, and their actions. They aren't "made" to do it by the devil. This puts responsibility firmly on the shoulders of the individual, and reminds him that he has options in life. He can acquire wisdom, or not. He can help others, or not. He can do harm, or not. The proverb demystifies the concept of the devil, and turns him into nothing more than someone with a great deal of experience in the world.