Spirit Fed

Catch the moment.
Was caught in a sudden rain shower.
Refreshing and wonderful to have something 'real' touch me.
I mean that in a good way.
It is so easy to get caught up in the superficiality of the day
Stepping in time like zombies. Like machines.

I was planning on writing a bit more as I sat in the park but instead I stood and watched as an amazing dark billowing cloud glided toward the city. The sight of it frightened me but I continued to stand in awe of the force of this natural event. Having seen many storms every one has its unique strength and presence. A bolt of lightning crawled across the sky from dark cloud over blue sky. What an odd sight. That is when I realized I should probably retreat to a safer point. Away from the steel water tower and steel fence surrounding the park. The rain poured and blinded anyone attempting to walk in it. An elderly man in the process of walking his dog skipped across the street pulling the leash and lifting his head once to search for shelter. A small silver car stopped and offered to take him out of the rain. He accepted. For a moment I wondered what he would have done if I had offered. But that doesn’t matter it was nice to see human kindness.

My grandson loves the rain.
When he was a baby we would sit and watch the rain and the lightening from our home in the country. (before the fire) the storm clouds always seemed within reach. I could see the twirling build up of the clouds just above my head. I would sing that old song and hold the tobacco up in offering for the blessings that follow the natural cleanse. The riches of spirit. The ‘real’ touching my soul was all I needed to understand. To know.

The sun is out now. As quick as it arrived the clouds have moved south east leaving behind the new. A reminder of our dependence on this earth. One earth.

faith(ful) ramblings

Taking a moment during this hot summer evening to enjoy a feeling I haven’t experienced in so long. The word faith comes to mind.

I was told a story about ten years ago that stayed close to me. Especially during trying times. The story of the storm and the buffalo. Most animals will search for a route around the storm any direction but toward the storm. The buffalo will continue through the storm and find the storm passes quicker. In relation to life the storm is the trying, the challenging, the hard times. We all search for ways to put off or avoid the path even though we know it is the only way. But when we face the challenge or walk through the storm there is eventual relief from the hardship. The storm passes and our life continues with its experience. While others are still stuck trying to find an easier route.

Well I guess I can say I am sticking it out. I have walked through the storm and it has passed. I know it is not the last one I will have to face but I now know I can survive it.
The miracle of it all is watching as the storm, literally, circles around our home. Faith. I am shown those miracles every day.

I have to lighten up. The world is in such a state I cannot help but worry about what my, the children, will face in their coming days. My mind plays with conspiracy theories and shivers when I watch as the words of the elders unfold in my life time. My son had a dream that shook his days for some time. He dreamt of a beautiful sunrise and then the ultimate fear of watching the sun turn colors and send a rush over the earth as it exploded. Horrifying to have a teenager envision such events when they should be dreaming about girls and adventures. But I think we all have worried over the idea of our mortality. What comes next and how much time do I have? Is it worth it to live? I woke up this morning with a dull weight on my heart. Knowing the day would be the same as yesterday and the day before that. I felt like my time was closing and there was no use fooling myself into thinking or dreaming of how tomorrow will be. But that gave me even more reason to smile as I thought there is no pressure. I can live this day with no fear because what do I have to lose but time. I am definitely a dark person. I didn’t mean for it to be that way. Life just did something to me that required a protection that also kept me from allowing any emotion into my life. With the exception of the feelings for my children and grandchildren the rest of the world just seem so far away. I was, am, invisible to the world. But doesn’t that mean freedom? Sometimes I want to just burst out. And when I try, I forget how to begin and analyze the hell out of it, so I lose interest before I can even get my foot out the door.

I never talk about my relationships or the scars, both internally and externally. It doesn’t make any sense to bring out what is done, lost in history in a pile of survival dust. What matters is that I have crawled out some how. I am still amazed. How did it happen? How did I escape the clutches of gamers on the street. Alley lifers. Once beauties with perfect skin smiles and boys wandering in from east and west searching for family in the eyes of teenage mothers. Mikey. What happened to you? In every strut there was no fear of what the corner could reveal. You asked for cigarettes from strangers yet you never did try one. Instead, a pocket of gifts for friends in passing sharing space for the night. You left us all dressed in bible school black and white. Your red hair and freckled face shining but I know those eyes. I see those eyes. You said you were going back to where a life could begin. I hope you did. Mikey. I hope that wasn’t you shadowing city lit streets as a subject in a late night documentary. A boy with red hair and freckled face slouching in rain soaked clothes without family or home. Still that boy. Although the years have passed so quickly those faces still resemble our huddled family. The ones trying to figure out what it all means. We weren’t there for the excitement we were all there because there was no other place to go. We care for one another. Names didn’t matter. Circumstance made you family even if it was just for a night. Sometimes they made it out and sometimes, sometimes there was no escape.

Gratitude

I wander back in the short time since I started this blog and notice changes already occurring in my life. I began with such despair as I struggled to keep my heart off the ground. I felt selfish for thinking only of our circumstance when so much pain exists in not so far away places. Yet I could only think of the sadness that clouded over our home. I never stopped caring about others or wanting to help when I could. I have discovered something beautiful about myself during this time. I love people and care enough to keep helping even when I have little to offer. This was important for me to know as I felt something slipping away. I did not want to lose sight of my place in this world as honoured to me by the women before me. I don’t boast about this with false pride it is out of an exciting self realization and confirmation of my path.

Over the last week a string of events occurred that has amazed me to the point of tears. My main goal was just to ensure my family continued to have a home and food on the table. Anything more would be a luxury. I am not in the habit of burdening others with my struggles and have not even told my family I have this blog. So basically no one really knows I am writing these short bits of struggling times.

One day a cheque arrives. Hesitant to believe it was sent to the correct person/address I confirmed its sender and was amazed to find it as owed! The next may not sound too responsible but I was glad I tried it. After I paid the bills and bought some healthy food I had in my pocket 25 dollars when I had to meet someone for a coffee. In the back of the coffee shop was two slot or casino game machines – whatever they are called. My friend put two dollars into it and won ten. I put my five dollars into it and won 250! I pressed the button two more times and another 260. Okay by this time I was freaked! I felt as if I had just done something wrong. It couldn’t be that easy. But now I had over 500 dollars! I received in the last week more than enough to cover the outstanding bills and buy those extras (clothing for my son and daughter, toiletries, and bags of fruit).

Now as I sit here with so much gratitude. And for those who say money can’t buy happiness well try living without it – really without it – for even a couple months. Money is sadly very much needed in a world that has changed so much that hunting for your food is either illegal or poison. My daughter is/was a hunter since she was seven but stopped when she seen how sick the animals were getting. The human impact on the environment has created such havoc on the weather and land the berries will no longer grow. The process of assimilation inflicted on nations has created families with fast food dependencies and sickness. Ironic how we now live on the industrialized crap and cannot afford the food that sustained in the time of the ancestors. The same food that was got by practices deemed savage and outlawed to promote a more civilized approach to living. In the name of assimilation. The healthy ‘savage’ food. I don’t want to live in a tipi and I don’t want to follow buffalo herds. (cannot afford to pay the toll to pass through or the there is no free roaming anymore) I am tired of seeing so many nations starving in a world that has enough for everyone.
Sad. Sad. Poverty Reality.
I am in it.
We are all in it.
Impoverished.
A starving spirit.
But it is all going to change.
Can you hear it?

Hunger

Well we're doing it again. A few of us crazy women are putting together a plan just to ensure families like ours are fed and taken care of. We understand there are issues that are bigger than us and want to help but when you are caught in that pit of nothing your strength is only used to breathe-make it another day for the kids. Can't save the world but we can help each other help others, and so on. Poverty. Reality.

During a four day fast before a sundance ceremony I understood hunger at a different level. The hunger of the spirit. No food or water for four days was the best medicine to humble a being caught in this world. With a dry mouth I tasted the earth wind and the sage smudge smoke. I heard the songs of the earth and felt our relations heartbeats travel thoughout my body. I felt myself melting into every part of creation. And on the fourth day, that first drop of water from a buffalo horn was held in my mouth with such appreciation. I carry that with me to remember why I am here. Every day has held miracles and I have asked the Creator many times to help the people, the nations, open their eyes to them. Where ever one chooses to pray or search, in church buildings, sweatlodges, temples etc that doesn't matter. It only matters that the energy, prayer, thoughts need to reunite to build the strength of the being, to reconnect with the rest of creation. The world is filled with others who 'know'. Every nation, race, culture whatever has one or many of 'those that know'. We are just afraid to believe. When we take the time to listen answers to our troubles are revealed.

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shame vs humility

Every day is approached with a new sense of understanding.

I am not the type of person to sit and lick my wounds. I feel I am a doer. I always think about the old story of the crab in the bucket. When one crab is trying to climb out the rest of the crabs drag it back down. Well, that happens. Sometimes the other crabs can be people and sometimes it can be government processes, limited resource battles, and on and on. We all want to make it out of here to somewhere – better.

I drove around today. We make jokes about driving on fumes and cross our fingers we make it home. Had to make it to a few places to ensure the weekend wouldn’t be too difficult. I hate the feeling of asking for help or maybe it is the fact that I need help that comes with the shame. I don’t know. I was taught not to be ashamed of asking for help and the rough edges of life teach humility – keeps us grounded. We went to the Salvation Army for a bit of food to hold us over for a week. My son was with me. He put his down when he realized where we were. The he lifted it and asked if they needed volunteers. That's what keeps me believing. I always wanted to be the one filling the little white plastic bags (not good for the environment forgot my cloth bags) and handing them to a mother-just to be the helper for once. It just doesn’t make any sense why a family, including ours, should ever experience hunger for food or the shame that comes with asking for food. I didn’t throw my money away, what little I do have. I paid the bills and then nothing. Prioritizing basic needs utility disconnection or food or shelter. Atleast if we have a roof over our head and lights we ‘feel’ like things could be worse. I look around my home and we have done good with so little. I feel good about that. I remember where I have come from – it seems so far away. I am waiting for this money that would make our family so happy. One click of the mouse in a government office could do this but instead it just lingers with no answers. This money is not a handout it is part of the a Canadian legacy that is supposed to compensate for all the hardship in some way. The Indian residential school legacy of attempting to assimilate through killing the Indian in the child. Now what the hell were they thinking? We held on even tighter and tears flowed to nourish the spirit of the generations today. That is what my great grandmother, grandmother, and mother are all about. That is what I am about. Humility is understanding and remembering where my strength comes from and the shame is what I must find my way passed. There is too much to be done. Life has taught me so much in forty years now it is time to gather my strength.

My son went to apply for another summer position for students. I was so proud of him and his abilities. He has sure taken in a lot at school. When I watch them I know it was all worth the time, love, and energy it took to stay home. I watched as other mothers struggled and then seen their children turn to the streets for that extra something we all look for. I decided I would be right there to catch them if I could when that moment came for my children. I feel I caught most of it. No matter how hard it gets we still know there is better and more to reach for. The crabs can keep grabbing but we will always break loose as we make our way out of the bucket.


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Away Room

A Monday. A tornado encircling our area again. Potential tornado weather for the rest of the day.

I went to see my grandson. So great to see those little smiles. Human reminders of why we are here. Simple and reoccurring miracles revealing what has endured the test of time – purity. I feel remnants of this time are carried in the center of us. Saving us from self destruction.

I didn’t get the job. My heart sank for about five minutes. Then I just made a fresh pot of coffee and sat outside buried in thought. Thoughts. Mind drugs. I thought of a friend that found me the other day. Last time I seen her was when I was in a boarding school. We arrived around the same time and both carried the same look on our face – afraid and timid. We were around seven or eight years old coming from homes that provided enough life experience to ensure a full understanding of survival. After a few days we established the washroom as the 'away room'. A place where we could talk about home and anything else going on at the school. During one of our away moments she produced a small brown paper bag. The kind used to pack our snacks. She had her hands wrapped around the neck of the bag and blew into it like a balloon. Then took a deep breath in then out again. She sat for a moment and then handed the bag to me. I didn’t ask her what it was but when I took it I could smell nail polish. Then I realized what she was doing – sniffing. I had seen my cousin do the same thing with shoe polish back home. I hated the smell and it gave me a headache. I don’t remember how I let her know I didn’t like it but I do remember making a face when I brought the bag to my nose. That was it. I watched her eyes change as she continued with the bag holding it at the bottom and breathing in and out. We didn't talk. I remember feeling sad as I watched her fade away from me. I thought of the boy who would wander the streets smelling like shoe polish. My uncle told me he poisoned his brain and before it could explode he jumped off the power building falling onto the cement. I wasn’t there but my mind always carried an image of the boy standing on the edge crying as he jumped to his death. Drugs terrified me. Losing my mind wasn’t so inviting then.

It was good to hear from her. I was told she had passed on years ago. Why would anyone say that? I guess the same reason they would say that about me. Most are shocked to know I am still alive. Another life, another time. Wow how far we have come. Another day with more writing and more resumes to send out.

Time is Calling us

the best way to figure out todays problems is to turn in your seat...looking back. As a spectator looking back at history we have little to lose and we avoid the direct pain and suffering that the humans of the time endured. What does that mean? How can we understand without feeling the pain? to feel the pain helps us to appreciate the healing. i would n't want to go back to the days when children were ripped from the arms of mothers and slammed against rocks for the shock effect - control. all i need to know is that i am alive today because someone back then continued to survive. I have the knowledge and freedom to live with the teachings of my ancestors because someone lived/died to ensure the gift would be mine. the grandmothers that hovered over the children. the men who held the woman's word close to their heart and stood to protect them. I am here because they knew what they were doing. Humility, honor, courage, and unconditional acts of love. I think that is the only time that word is used, universal meaning that is now becoming rare, as a result of empty overuse. Now I stand with what I can. i feel so inferior to the grandmothers out there that have stood up in their weary years to speak for us who are either too afraid, too tired, too sick, or too blind to understand the importance of our time - the urgency. I heard one elder say today, "Time is short. Time is calling us." amazing. My dreams are loyal to the times. I ask myself everyday why am I having these prophetic dreams yet I do not have the knowledge of what to do with them. "We can talk about things, but without prayer we will never succeed."

Change my reality? I don't mean to dishonor those ones that came before me or deceive the ones that will come after me. I only want to be a part of a different reality that includes peace, unity, and overall a reconnection with our mother, the Earth. To begin with strengthening my own spirit seems to me the only sensible road to take. I feel like something is coming. The hairs on my body tingle at the thought. Truth. There is a bit of fear and yet a feeling of relief - I am not insane. I see the women of the world have listened! That is another word that has echoed in my mind for many years. "Listen" to the whispers of the earth, the universe, the ancestors. I listen and sometimes I am afraid. I have no one to share this with. I am a quiet woman, a mother, a grandmother, I am a grain of the earth, with all my relations.