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OH Shyhawk, thank you for taking me along on this journey. I have experienced so many emotions while reading this. teddie....... ----- Original Message ----- From: <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> To: <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> Sent: Saturday, February 09, 2002 2:09 PM Subject: [Native_American] It Will Be Ok - Everything Will Be OK story by Shyhawk(FM > ============================================================ > For meals, baking recipes and advice, visit veryBestBaking.com > from Nestle. Enjoy hundreds of recipes and baking advice from > trusted brands such as Nestle Toll House, Carnation Milk, > and Libby's Pumpkin. > http://click.topica.com/caaae5kb1ddNBb2QYQIa/Nestle > ============================================================ > > > > It Will Be Ok - Everything Will Be OK > > > Several months have now passed since the loss of friends in NYC. Sadly they > remain lost amongst the rubble. It seems the spirit of who I once was also > remains distant. There seems to be no focus left in my walk and as a ship > without a rudder my heart is at the mercy of the winds blowing across the > waters. > > I look deep into myself to remember the lessons I was taught and still have > only seen the surface of. I question who I am. Time passes and land struggles > drag on here as all across Indian Country. I thought the deepest blow to my > heart is the coming loss of forest land from the mountain that is my heart. > Prayers and ceremony were done for my mother. Things this dominant culture > has no clue about. > > Meetings were a farce. The money commission already had made a contract to > log the land. At the meeting the commission representative told of how this > devastation would benefit all the animals and the forest itself. It would not > harm the native trout stream running at the foot of this area to be logged. > The magnificent beauty and peace of this area would return in eighty years. > The fences constructed to keep the saplings undisturbed would not effect my > heart. They did not explain the money to be made in this operation or the > callousness that this loss of such a special place will mean to so many as my > self. > > Gone will be a special place to visit with the Old Ones in such magnificent > beauty and peace -- gifts from Creator. As the mountain is scrapped clean so > will my heart ache and our tears will mix together on this tragic day. > > The deal is done now and soon heavy equipment will be heard instead of the > sweet calls of the song birds. Dust will fill my nostrils in place of the > gentle odors of the wild flowers and the pines. My eyes will see shattered > bits of wood and torn up earth were once ferns waved in the wind and the one > legends looked out over the valley. The soft voices on a gentle wind that > shared their stories with my heart will be gone forever. Beauty and > sacredness replaced by disrespect! > > The drifting of my path continues. The losses of the land and friends from > life my continue. My sense of belonging is gone. I try to focus but life is a > blur and my heart does not sing any more. Still every morning the sun rises > over my beloved mountain. My heart is softened once more and I am grateful > for another day. I see Creator in all things around me. In the gentle light > of early morning -- night fades and a new day begins. > > The news of Grandfather s passing came from one of my sisters on the phone. > Grandfather was ill -- but the call stopped me still. My heart stopped and my > mind went blank. I should be happy for Grandfather for he is now free of all > the pain. Selfishly I feel lost without his guidance and strength. Out my > window stands the mountain. > > I look to her. Part of her will be lost and now Grandfather. I feel so lost > The roots that once sprouted from my feet and held me to this place are gone. > My spirit now tumbles and swirls across the land as a wind blown leaf. > > Darkness swallows my heart and the pain goes deep. I think of my father and > uncles who have also passed in the past few years. My family and elders are > passing -- soon I will stand all alone. > > Today is cloudy and rainy -- it is the day before the gathering for > Grandfather. Mother' s soft cold tears wet the earth and fall on my hair. The > silence of the air seems to reflect my heart's emotions. The earth is turned > to mud. The bright sky is gray and a fog hangs low. The sky is empty of the > winged ones. It seems our spirits both weep for one who is greatly loved and > missed by so many. > > The morning has arrived to honor Grandfather and release him. I do not know > what to expect - I am just numb now. I leave early to help the family in any > way I am needed. It is good to see the family once more. My heart stirs even > with the sadness. I am able to spend a little time with each one. They say I > help them -- really they help my broken spirit. Their strength shines through > and I am a bit ashamed of my selfishness. > > I travel to the gathering place. Today is cold and crisp. The sky a brilliant > blue. White streaky clouds race across her surface driven by a brisk winter > wind. The sun is blinding. I look to Creator in this beauty and a warmth > seems to touch my heart once more. I walk across a small valley of wet brown > earth and winter grass of dull green and brown. The smell of mother fills my > nostrils. Her perfume brings a soft smile to my face. The fires are already > burning and the damp air keeps the smoke low to the ground. The wind gifts me > with the sweet odors of hardwood, cedar, and sage. A feeling of home begins > to reappear in this lonely spirit of mine. > > The small valley is gently rolling. Her surface is dotted with large sycamore > trees. They are old friends to me. Their bark consists of blotches of yellow > and brown. The yellow skin is smooth and the brown bark is course. Their > pinto colored limbs stretch wide intertwining high in the air. It reminds me > of the web of life -- everything is interdependent and we are all connected. > Mitakuye Oyasin - All, All my Relations. > > One tree speaks to my heart. She stands tall and straight. She reaches to the > soft blue canopy above her. I feel her smooth skin and look to her highest > limbs. There are small brown balls of fluff. These are her babies. These > young ones will be released on the wind in the spring. The wind will carry > them to their new homes. A new generation will begin -- the circle will > continue. I too am reminded a new generation follows my foot steps. Soon my > generation will teach as Grandfather has so eloquently. In my life the > circle too continues -- the selfishness begins to leave my heart. I feel good > for Grandfather and thank him and Creator for all he has taught me. > > I walk ahead past a gentle rise in land. A beautiful sight greets these tired > eyes. Before me is a dear friend. He tends the fires. I offer greetings and > in our embrace more is experienced then the exchange of a thousand words. He > is a friend and one connected to the land and the Old Ones deeply. This would > be more then enough -- yet there is more. He is friend and family. His energy > fills my heart and the coldness is gone from it. The oyate(people) have a > hard road in this dominant culture. They also have a great strength. Our > families are strong and tempered from the hardship of time. I am reminded > once more of who I am. In my friends embrace the roots again sprout from my > feet. INA and I again become one. > > My friend stands on the edge of a high embankment cut over years by the river > who runs at her feet. In the river is a small cascade. This river is my > friend and the life's blood of the eastern people who live here still - > Lenape - Unami (The Original People). The river reminds me of their purpose. > The people remain to care for INA and teach others to respect her. I am > reminded of my duties and responsibilities once more. For the first time in > many months purpose returns to my heart -- the path can be seen once more as > the morning fog slowly lifts from my heart's eye. > > I tell my friend of the stories I know of this river and those that traveled > on and beside her for so many thousands of years. The cascades sing to my > heart with a gentle song -- a healing song. I am drawn to my ancestors > strength. I am not alone on this land in this place. The mountain is having a > special place decimated but Creator replaces this loss by this new home for > my heart to walk. Wopila. > > The sun dances on the rippling singing water. My heart dances with the music > once more. This is my home. No matter what man does to it in disrespect she > will live in me and I in her. We are one! How could I forget this -- again I > am ashamed of my weakness? Creator sends lessons and I so easily forget. > > Now I must come back to the day. I am requested to escort family and guests > to this gathering place. With each guest and elder I am privileged to meet > and bring to this place something is shared between us. During this duty many > gifts are given. Many words of wisdom are experienced. I am honored the > family has entrusted this duty to me. I show my respect by doing the very > best I can to aide the elders and make them feel welcome here. The beauty of > this land makes the task an easy one. All remark on INA s beauty here - I > again am so grateful for Creators gifts here on this homeland. > > Everyone has arrived and it is time to let go. Many families gather as one > today in this place. As I stand watch - I look out over the oyate(people) and > the land. Many nations stand in honor of one here. My heart is so happy to > see so many gathered together here as one. > > Prayers are given and as I look skyward -- the warm sum filters through my > eyes to my soul. Creator is with us today. The clouds race by and their soft > beauty sings to me on a strong cold biting winter wind. Yet I am warm. The > smoke from the fires blows directly over me. The smells of cedar and sage are > heavy. My clothing carry their presence for days. My prayers are one with > those of the many gathered here this day. > > Across the river is a small stand of tall sycamores. They appear white in the > brilliant light. I am reminded these trees offer pieces of themselves to be > used in ceremony. Today their mere presence is a healing for this broken > spirit. > > My glance runs over the people. The strength here makes me smile. Many great > leaders and teachers. They are quiet as Grandfather of their deeds and teach > by gentle guiding from behind. I hope one day to be able to teach in this > manner with as much clarity and heart. > > Poems and stories are read and gifted to Grandfather. Songs are sung. Then > one elder sings the Warriors Honor Song for Grandfather. The song is done in > our own language -- not English. I love our languages -- they belong to this > land as much as this river before me. > > I again look across the river and the small forest before me. The song takes > me home. I see the canoes on the water before us. The people fishing and > laughing here. The forest that stretched forever. The villages and the smells > fill my heart. I have been taken home once more. For now I am one with > everything. The river, the Old Ones, the sounds and songs of the past which > infiltrate this time and the present. The two ages are one and I experience > them both in this instant. How do you put into words this gift - I cannot? > Those with a true heart will understand for they have already stood where I > stand now. Aho > > A cry is heard as my focus returns to the present. I see everyone looking > skyward. There a huge redtail hawk circles low over our circle. Grandfather > is fine -- my heart is now at ease. The winged messenger circles what seems > for hours and then departs. Such beauty this day and so many gifts! > > The day ends with stories of remembrance of Grandfather. One speaks of > Grandfather now in camp. He is waiting for the rest of us to join him. A > thought that soothes my heart - I can think of no better place to be. The > person speaking of Grandfather says he sees him with a big pot of stew on at > the fire. A murmur goes through the crowd and then laughter. A voice says > Grandfather has a big pot of coffee on not stew. Everyone now laughs > including the one relating what he sees. It is true Grandfather was never far > from his coffee. I see him in his felt hat with his feathers arranged his > special way, his vest with big strong bare arms exposed, and his soft eyes > looking into mine as he walks across the powwow grounds in his unique gate. > Aho. > > A week has now passed since the gathering. Grandfather has returned in my > dreams to tell me everything is ok -- it is ok. He stands before me with eyes > twinkling in his regalia and felt hat. I feel his strength pulling me back > out of my shell. There are things to do on this Turtle Island. I feel his > strength - I must again help those in need and fight to protect INA. I must > again fight to protect what little of our land is left -- our sacred places > that this dominate society so easily scoffs at and destroys for profit. The > time line is long and these disrespects will be answered for! > > Long ago a dream was given to me when I asked to find my way in this land. > The dream came after prayers and much time seeking answers -- a life time. > The dream contained many things most of which I am only understanding now in > the autumn of my life. In this dream an elder came to me and took me to the > circle for the first time. A time when I did not belong -- at least I did not > know I belonged. This elder welcomed me and gave me a name only I know of. He > told me I was needed at the circle and I was welcomed by his family. > > This dream started me on my walk. This week once more the dream again > returned to me. I see the elder clearly but as in the first dream no face is > seen. He is a tall man of great strength both physically and spiritually. He > is in regalia. He wears a vest with big arms exposed and a black felt hat > with feathers arranged a special way. This time I know this elder. It is > Grandfather. As in the dream he came into my life. Welcomed me to the circle > and his family. I learned many lessons and have met many elders through his > kindness. Aho > > It is a time of loss -- but it is a time of gift for me. Things and lessons > that seemed significant but unrelated have now come together to form one > picture -- clearly seen now by my heart. As on the river bank with the honor > song in the background all has become one for me -- my purpose becomes > clearer -- the lessons take on a deeper depth for me now with this new > understanding. This is how the stories work. As ones understanding and > lessons grow -- the depth of the stories grow with them. > > For now I stand on my ancestors land -- it is now my land! I belong to it and > her to me. The Old Ones are close here and the stories are alive once more. > No matter what happens to this land physically it will live on in our spirits > - We are the original people -- we each have gifts and duties from Creator. > We are of many nations that makes us unique with special gifts. Yet we are > one people of Turtle Island. This land was given to our ancestors to protect > and respect. Time passes but our gifts and duties are still fresh within us. > I see our people slowly regaining their strength and pride once more. Our > spirit is not broken! Remember who you are and the ancestors who live in your > hearts. Walk with your feet straight on the path of life. > > As Grandfather reminds me - I remind you. IT WILL BE OK - EVERYTHING WILL BE > OK. You only need to open your hearts and look within. > > Thankyou for allowing me to see once more Creator - Let me never dishonor my > teachers. > > Mitakuye Oyasin Onsimalaye > written mid winter 2002 > ShyHawk(FM) > > ========================================================== > Extra! Extra! Read all about it! Get the latest weather, > sports, and lifestyle news you can't afford to miss, all > at a price you can afford to pay! Click now! > http://click.topica.com/caaacQXb1ddNBb2QYQIf/TopOffers > ========================================================== > > Visit and show your support for the Grass Roots Oyate > http://members.tripod.com/GrassRootsOyate > > Clemency for Leonard Peltier. Sign the Petition. > http://petitiononline.com/Release/petition.html > > > ============================================================ Crack of the Bat, Click of the Mouse. 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