Sometimes, we can hang on to a thing or a way of doing something so
tightly that we choke the life out of it.
The Spirit is a living Spirit. Visions, real visions, are now, not just
"back then".
I am of two minds about traditional ways.
It is necessary and desirable to retain certain forms intact, in the way
they have been passed down to us.
It is neither necessary or desirable to become so obsessed with these
forms that they overshadow the substance they are meant to embody.
To use an example from the Jesus road...he criticized the religious
authorities of his day for paying so much attention to the outer forms
of their religion. He said they were like a tomb...beautifully carved and
molded on the outside, but filled with decay and death on the inside.
This can happen to anyone, not just the jewish priests 2000 years ago.
if the Creator is truly with us, we will not do anything "wrong".
If your heart tells you to wear a certain object around your neck that
from time immemorial has traditionally been carried in a belt pouch....
should you be afraid to make a change?
Or would you be better off remembering...ah, a powerful word, "remembering"!
that the very essence of what is Indian is that unique and individual re-
lationship each of us has with our Creator, and all our cousins?
We need to respect the Creator and the creation.
Motion is the essence of life; all things are alive.
Changing, moving, dancing thru many forms and seasons and passages of time
and space.
A good heart; humility before the Creator (and this is only common sense;
how can anyone look at the night sky and be anything less than humble
before its author?); a sense of humor and honor and respect for oneself
and all one's relations.
These are the breath of life, as the steam coming off of a white-hot
stone. Water becoming steam; wood becoming fire, becoming new life, a
new birth, a chance to start over.
Nature is constantly breaking things down and building them again.
a new elm tree looks like an old elm tree, but it is made of different
stuff. It is not like its parent; it is unique. It is alive.
There is a constant renewal in creation as the seasons circle around again
and again. Every summer is "summer"; but no two summers are alike. Every
winter has its cold, but no two snowflakes are alike.
A lot of the patterns we see repeating around, and even within, ourselves,
are more a matter of what we expect to see than they are of any "ultimate
truth" - which, if there is such a thing, is the exclusive property of the
Creator. We two-leggeds can't begin to comprehend such a thing.
Traditional ways are spring, summer, fall and winter. They are rain, and
thunder; they are lakes and rivers. They are forms of power.
The spirits that move within them can move differently from time to time.
If they did not, every day would be exactly like every other day. Every
storm would be the same storm. Every leaf would be the same as every other
leaf. It would be very much like the dominant culture would like to see
things. The same, the same, the same. Row houses. Factories. Cars.
A multimedia box in your living room to suck out any pretensions you might
have towards owning a soul.
Fortunately, as long as there are a few real human beings around, that
won't happen to everybody.
Although it has already happened to a lot of people, and will happen to a
lot more. But Mother doesn't like all this unnatural behavior. It hurts
Her in more ways than one. So She's going to cry, and Her sobs will shake
Her body. She will cry out to the sky, and people will wonder at the sound.
She will lift up Her arms, and the waves will rise high.
but She will hear our prayers.
What is traditional?
Prayer, and awareness of the living Spirit in all things.
Respect, and love.
Consideration for the generations gone before, and those to come.
I am of two minds about tradition; but then, I am of two minds about
everything.
Out there, there is a culture of greed.
Out there, the living dead walk; their spirits have fled their homes
or walked quietly, sadly away.
If the spirit cannot grow, and move, and change, and rejoice in the
life it has been given, it leaves, or it dies.
Out there, there is a culture of soul eaters.
They suck out the life and leave the empty shell.
But like a cancer, when the host dies...so dies the soul eater.
Survival is dancing with our faces warmed by the Sacred fire.
We know what lies outside, beyond the living wheel we shape with our
bodies, our spirits, joined in prayer and gladness.
We need not fear it.
We need to be aware; we need to be careful.
But we must beware of dancing with our backs to the Sacred fire.
Our strength is in unity with that central fire.
Creator will keep us strong as long as the light of his fire glints
in our eyes...but not if it bounces off of our backs.
Beware of dancing with your back to the fire.
So much of what we read, and see and hear and are concerned about in
Indian affairs concerns the relationship of the Indian with the land.
Very simply put, without that relationship, there is no Indian.
Looking at it from a perspective a non-Indian would not understand, maybe
not believe, without the Indian, there is no land.
When the caring and care-taking spirit is not present; when bulldozers
bulldoze and backhoes dig without prayer, without permission, without
thanks; when there is no relationship of respect, the land becomes sick,
the people become sick, the animals and plants become sick.
They lose their spirit, their heart. The mystery is gone and with it,
the life.
If we live in the dominant culture, we have nothing but paper and plastic
invested in our food, our clothing, our shelter. We have none of our toil
or sweat or prayers involved with meat from the deli; we have not asked
permission to take the life of the canned corn; we have not nurtured and
protected and honored the frozen squash.
Where is our relationship with the real world?
We need that; we need land to love, and to honor; we need animals and plants
and children to protect.
If we do not go out of our way to plant our gardens, and talk to our trees,
and walk in the woods; if we do not get up at dawn and greet the sun, and
say our prayers with tobacco grown in the old way; if we do not observe
at least some of these things, we are spiritually dead, as natural people
understand the meaning of being alive.
Without these relationships with our relatives, the plant people and four-
leggeds and all the rest, we have no source of strength. We cannot hope to
overcome the obstacles inherent in being a natural being in an unnatural
environment. Our love and caring, not only for each other, but for every
being the creator has set upon the earth, and for the earth herself....
This is where our strength comes from.
If we live in cities, we are already cut off from our roots. All humans
are; but most of them don't know or care to know. We can still pray, and
use the sacred herbs, and love our relatives....but we need to get out, to
get away at least once in a while. We need to feel our feet in contact with
the earth; feel the wind on our faces, and hear the rushing of a stream. We
need birdsong, and squirrels playing, and ants toiling and leaves dancing in
the breeze. All of these things are to the life of the spirit what water and
air are to the life of the body. But let us not forget, it was not the Indian
who decided to separate the two, put the spirit in one place and the flesh in
another. It was not the Indian who put first the Creator, and then himself
and everyone he could run fast enough to catch in a square box. It was not
the Indian who admired the beauty of the earth so much he thought he could
own it. It was not the Indian who first believed that to love is to own,
and that greed is good.
Let us not forget who we are. Ever. Not even for a moment.
Let us not forget what we have always known, that life, for predator and
prey, for the hawk and the fieldmouse, is a dance.
Let us dance.
Rainbow Walker
Return to Indigenous Peoples' Literature
Compiled by: Glenn Welker
Survival of the Spirit
Alienation
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