Contemplation, journaling, Life, lifecoaching, Me, meditaton, Native American Women, Uncategorized, Writing

Thursday Thoughts

I keep thinking that I have something to say. Then I sit down and my mind is blank. I drive around the state all day long with so much going through my head. I get all excited about sitting down and getting all those thoughts out….but I find now that I am too brain-dead to put too much together.

I find it frustating, to say the least.

So I guess tonight I will just ramble. Maybe some of those wonderful things I was thinking about earlier will come back. If not, then at least I have had some typing practice, and I get to spell things. I am one of those people who, when you can’t figure out how to correctly spell the word you want to use, will just pick a different word. Hopefully it will convey exactly what I want to say even if it isn’t the first word I wanted to use.

I was on a kick, once upon a time, to use different dictionaries and pick different words every day…that got old and I could never remember any of those really cool words I looked up. I learned a few new words but overall, not worth my time.

Honestly, there is so much insanity going on in the world that I don’t even try to make sense of any of it. All these years I thought people were changing, not just some but many people. Turns out, I was wrong. We are in such a sad state.

Protesting, fear, anger, I’m right there with everyone.

As a Native American woman I think I can say, for real, I’m scared. I feel more endangered than ever before. It’s an ancient feeling. I am sure that my ancestors knew this feeling well. Yet I go to work everyday. Talking with and helping people with disabilities. I write my reports, supervise the staff assigned to me, and collect my paycheck.

I read a meme on Facebook today referring to all of this insanity. It was a Buddist monk sitting in a meditation pose and the meme said something like all the chaos being OK since it means that it is clearing out the bad and good is coming after it all. It was supposed to make the reader feel better. But all I could think was, how long?

I still wonder…how long? Will I survive it? Will any Native person survive a level of hate so high it hasn’t been seen since “manifest destination” ran rampant over us all?

We stay in faith. We stay in prayer. It will do.

Contemplation, Life, Native American Women

Now that history is to repeat itself….

It’s been a very upsetting month. I have been paying attention to Facebook closely for news happening in North Dakota and what is happening with the Standing Rock Nation of Souix people and their supporters. I find it sad that I have to look to Facebook for the news that is not being reported on any of the national stations.

I remember, as a teenager, being told that I would never see any news of what happens to the Native Peoples of this country because the government had decided that they would control what was reported and what wasn’t when it comes to Native Americans. Back then it was Wounded Knee. Do you remember where you were when that event started?

Now an oil company is working very hard to plow through Native burial lands and sacred sights (again) so that they can put in another pipe line. I saw a 30 second blip on the news once. I read yesterday that the government is now air dropping mustard gas on the Native (and many non-native) people who are there to protest this action. No media coverage by the news stations around here. How about where you are? Seems to me that the US government dropping chemical weapons on it’s own citizens would be news worthy.

I’ve read several posts from a few friends who actually made the trek out to North Dakota to see for themselves and to support the protest. What I read is all about unity and non-violence. I see now that several young friends have made that same journey. I pray that they get to be part of the biggest peaceful protest of their lives and that someday they can tell their own grandchildren what peaceful people can accomplish.

I pray that the land wll stay intact and the water the Standing Rock people are trying to protect stays clean. You and I need to pray this happens since we are going to be the people who benefit from the warriors who stand in peaceful protest to keep the water clean. I pray that all of the people who stand with Standing Rock get to return home unharmed. I pray for the men and women who have been ordered to this place and ordered to cause harm to peaceful protestors. I suspect this is not what they signed up for. If there is a bad side, a domestic terrorist side, it would be the oil company who thinks that poisoning the water that we are drink is acceptable to any of us just for more money in their pockets.

History repeating itself for Native American peoples has not been historically favorable. I stay positive, reminding myself that a victory for Standing Rock is a victory for all of us, no matter where we live.

Contemplation, Family, Life, lifecoaching, Native American Women, Sundance

To Whom Much is Given…

I tend to measure my relationship with my Creator against my relationship with my children. We say in our prayers “Heavenly Father” or “Grandfather” and that is how I look at my personal relationship. When I come to a bump or have a query I think about how I respond to my children as a mother and I imagine that this is the way my Father responds to me.

I have a really hard time not yelling at people who mean well but who give others who are standing in pain what sounds like sage advice when they say to them “God is just testing you”. Folks, I have never once tested my children. I do not recall ever being tested by my own mother. I did not have to prove that I loved my mom or dad. I do not test my own children to see if they really love me. I think…why would anyone say something so cruel to a child (of God) who is in pain or confused about a situation?

I have said many times “to whom much is given, much is expected”. I said it again last night. I stand watching a loved one bear what looks to others like a huge burden and this is the reminder that was whispered into my ear. As I wrote those words out I knew that if he was not “given much” he would not have any real understanding of what I was saying to him. But I also knew in my heart that these were the words he needed to hear.

All is not lost. He is not being tested to see how strong he is. If he were not given much to begin with, none of this would be happening near him. He would not be expected to know what to do, he would not be able to continue to praise God for all of his blessings. He would not already have the answer to his prayers. The Tree would not be calling him into the circle. The heartbeat of the people would not be calling him to sing again.

I started thinking, even last night before I went to bed, about the number of people I know who have been “given much”. I was really amazed. There are a bunch. It turns out, at least in my life, that it is not rare for me to see amongst my family and friends many who have been “given much”. There are some who have much love, much intelligence, much wisdom, much beauty, much charisma, much of so many abilities. I smiled because I realized that it was no wonder that my own life ran so smoothly and evenly keeled, I mean, look at all these wonderful people I know who have been given so much and whether they know it or not; giving back what they have freely, as was given to them.

I was still thinking about this morning. This past 30 days has been rough on my family. But this is a family that was given much and we know that much is expected from us in return. We get tired, we get weepy, we get sad but we are never without hope, truth or love.

No, my beautiful family, we are not being tested. We are being given the opportunity to show the world where our strength comes from and Whose children we really are!

Family, journaling, Life, Me, meditaton, Native American Women

Dig Deep, Look High, Be Thankful

Rough week. Lots to think about. Decisions to be made. I was very happy for the last of the warm weather to be able to sit outside with my coffee and do some praying while I thought…

I am a protector, this I know and understand. I protect those I love and I protect them well. But what happens when those I love walk out from under the protection? I begin to understand a little bit about how the Creator feels when we walk away from his protection.

I was reminded of a story…my childhood was not smooth but honestly, for the most part I remember being happy. There were seven of us…mostly girls. I am the oldest of the brood. When I was 18 and my next two sisters in age were 16 and 15, one of them took me aside and told me that my job was done. They didn’t need me anymore. They were grown and they had me to thank for getting them this far but I was no longer needed to protect or guide them. For real, she said it just like that. I remember standing there with my mouth hanging open in disbelief. I remember being hurt, in my heart.

This hurt lasted several days. I didn’t know what to think. I wasn’t sure of what my place was supposed to be anymore. I know that she did not tell these things to our Mother. I know I didn’t tell her, either. These were things that were shared just between the sisters, as some things just are.

I had been praying, for the past year, to be free, to grow up, to not be responsible any more. I had been the big sister since I was 18 months old and it had been a tough 18 years. Those siblings were a lot of work. Still, once she had said those things to me I just couldn’t be anything but hurt. It took several days for me to realize that all of my prayers had been answered. It was a sudden realization.

Then I started smiling again. Then I started planning! Within two years I was gone. I had started my independence in college but then joined the Air Force and was off to basic training and I never looked back. MY life had begun.

Several years later I was home for a visit and the very same sister who had so happily dismissed me made sure to tell me that our whole family had fallen apart and it was all my fault for leaving. This time I just smiled. I knew who was responsible for my life and who was responsible for hers (or the “families’ life” as she put it). I returned to my own life intact.

That story came to mind as I pondered this week. It is my life again. There are steps I need to take to make sure that I am healthy in spirit. My loved ones will stay under my protection or not…I don’t make that choice. I will remain strong as my protection does not end and my family is worth the effort.

My world changes from time to time with my age and experience. There are things that need to be done now that I have crossed this line and become the grandmother. Ceremonies that need to be completed so that the journey can continue. I am looking forward again as the week ends and I sit here, I realize, happy for my rough start. It makes me dig deep into my soul and look high to the Creator and to be thankful for everything.

Contemplation, death, Family, Life, Me, Native American Women

Rock and Roll Payday Memories

I spent the day on the road. Total miles logged was 230. When you spend that much time alone you have a tendency to think about things that normally you do have time to think about. Today I spent my time thinking about my parents. There are just certain things that trigger memories and then when I am driving I have time to let those thoughts keep running.

My mother died 3 years ago. Her passing was not easy. She was ill and she had suffered a heart attack. She lingered for two weeks in a hospital that was far from her home. She was not alone, one of her daughters and her husband were there with her. My father died several years prior to her passing. His passing was not easy. He suffered complications of diabetes after a surgery. He was not alone, two of his daughters, his sisters and several of his nieces and nephews were there when he passed.

I think of this and I am glad to have been an intimate part of that passing. I wish that I had been able to be there for my mother as well but I am glad that the same sister who stood with me while my father passed, stood by my mothers’ side as well. I can think of no greater expression of love than to be present at the passing of a loved one. To hold that hand and to say “I love you” or “thank you” or whatever is on your mind to say at that last moment.

The first thing I do is to plug in the ipod and cue up Janis Joplin. I play the entire uploaded album as loud as my factory installed speakers will allow while singing along with Janis and I smile because she was one of my mother’s favorite musicians. The I look for a convenience store, any one will do as long as they sell Payday candy bars. I buy the biggest one I can find and I eat the whole candy bar, savoring every bite and I smile because this was my dad’s favorite candy bar.

While I complete these little rituals I have established for myself I wonder about my parents. I wonder where they are? I wonder what important works they are working on these days? I wonder which of their heathen children they are watching closely today?

I hear so many people lament over the loss of a loved one that spend so much of their lives espousing their belief in a Creator and an afterlife that promises to be so much better than this life we live on this world but when push comes to shove…what they actually believe is far from what they have espoused. The absolute lack of faith explains so much to me.

For me, blaring Janis Joplin and wolfing down a Payday candy bar are the traditions that I hope I am passing down to my own daughter who someday will face these things. Someday she will think of me. I trust that she will just play the music she knows I love and eat a candy bar that was my favorite and smiles knowing that my new adventure has begun. I hope she wonders what I am up to and I trust she knows that I am having a blast.

She will then take everything that I have given her and pass those things on to her daughter and that makes me so happy. I know deep in my heart that my parents are happy about this as well, whatever they are doing today.

Contemplation, Life, Me, Native American Women

I got this…..

When we were young we did crazy things. We tried new things. Sometimes we were really excited about what we were up to and sometimes we were just a bundle of nerves hoping the outcome was just a little bit successful.

I say these things because I am here again, although not nearly as young as I would like to be. Mostly I am excited but my nerves are starting to vibrate.

I can honestly say that I make my own decisions and I know this so I know that whatever comes of my choices now are of my own doing. I cannot help but hope that this does not turn out like my first meatloaf, as small as a pound of butter but weighed as much as a brick of gold…it was so bad we could not eat it and in those days we ate anything. Of course, I was not alone in that creation nor was I a cook and I am happy to say that over the years I have improved my cooking skills and these days my meatloaf is quite tasty.

The toughest choice I have ever had to make in my life I made in fear. Years later, looking back at the course of my life, if asked, I can answer that my only regret being that I did not give myself enough credit. I was stronger than I thought at that time but I was young. Had I chosen the other road, I would have been just fine. Hindsight being 20/20 and all that.

I have been working on this manifestation stuff, like most people I know, needing more money than I have. Out of the blue my caseload doubles. Well, the opportunity was presented to me, excited and scared I said yes. As the poster child for the Procrastinators of America there is potential here for some real disaster. As a master manifestor-in-training…this will be interesting to say the least as I am sure that my paperwork did not just double, I think it quadrupled.

I just need to remember now that I am stronger than I give myself credit for and that having taken this particular road, I will be fine…I got this!

Uncategorized

Really?…He said that?

I was driving down the interstate yesterday when I passed a billboard that read “God said to read the Bible”. Two thoughts crossed my mind almost simultaneously, one was that it has been quite awhile since I have read the Bible and the other was that having read the Bible, cover to cover, at least three times in my life, but I do not recall EVER reading the line “God said to read the Bible”. Suddenly I was offended.

I was now about a mile past the billboard and starting to get really angry. My next question was this, did whoever pay to have this message put up really think that we are all that stupid? Why would anyone say that? There are so many beautiful things written in the Bible, so many things that God did say through a man/woman or spirit why dummy it down?

Perhaps since I am an Aquarius, perhaps because I am a first born child or maybe even because I am a First Nation Woman I have to say that I really get offended when “people” think that I am a sheep, stupid to the point of needing to be lead by the nose, or that I am not capable of questioning what is being said to me. I tell others all the time, do not take anything I say as gospel, take everything I tell to/through prayer and find out for yourself if I am telling you the truth.

An hour later I was still thinking about that billboard. Suddenly I realized that the sponsor of that particular sign can be put in the group of “people” that I consider to be charlatans, cheaters of the innocent. “Here, take this magic pill, you will be skinny in two weeks”…really? If it was so magic why did I have to buy three bottles, shouldn’t one pill do just fine? Spiritual charlatans are no different, at least not in my mind. They say things designed to prey on the weak or make the person who is doing his or her best to be that spiritual person they think they should be feel really guilty, whereby knocking them back a few rungs on the ladder of life.

Maybe God did tell someone to read the Bible, I don’t know for sure. I do know that He did not say it to me.

Contemplation, Life, Native American Women

Mirror, mirror…

I found out that a young man I know will spend the next 45 years of his life in prison. I am troubled. My exact words to another friend was “I hate seeing our young men suffer so much”.

I understand the penalty for the crime. I understand why a crime like this was committed. I understand why supporters of this young man are so very upset. These are not my problem, these things I understand.

I have said to more than one person, do not take anything I tell you as gospel. Take everything I tell you to prayer. Ask God, ask Him is I am right. Ask Him if I am telling you the truth. I say this to people because most people have become so very lazy, so much like sheep….just following along with what everyone else is doing without thinking for themselves. I find this to be troubling, to say the least.

My problem is trying to understand why our young men choose to suffer so much when it is needless. There are choices to be made and all choices you make bear consequences you must pay. Some choices are easy and some choices are right. Unfortunately the easy choice is not always the right choice. Often times the right choice is most difficult and that’s where the thinking ends, no further exploration of consequences. The end result? Rarely is it the happy ending you were hoping for.

My next question was “what can we do to help?”. My friend said, “I wish prayer was the answer”. I liked that answer, he was honest. Prayer obviously is not “the answer”. if it were then all of our friends and family would be happy and healthy and rich and full of life. There is a missing key, I think.

Yes, you know what I am going to say….making the right choice. That part is on you. I know that if I want my life to be happy, if I want to be healthy then I must make those choices that end in those consequences. If I want a different end then those things I mentioned then all I have to do is make different choices. So simple. Please notice that I did not say ‘so easy’….because it is not.

I told my friend that there was one thing we could do immediately and consistently and that is to be an example of not suffering so looks like. Be an example to others of what making good choices looks like. Be the mirror for someone who is looking for that one person who is not paying consequences of bad decisions.

The good thing about being a willing example is that it does not mean you are perfect or that you think you are perfect. It simply means that you are ok with others looking closely at your life (today, not your past life) and seeing that you are making choices that bear consequences you are proud to bear.

I cannot make choices for you, as much as you would like for that to happen. I cannot bear consequences caused by your bad choices, those are yours to own. But I will be an example that you can look at when you wonder what happens if you make the right choice over the easy choice. I will continue to pray for you so that as you make your choices you know that you are not alone when facing those hard choices.

I know that I am not perfect and I am just fine with that assessment of me but I do like what I see when I look into my mirror.

Uncategorized

She Struggles to the Other Side

Her breathing has become shallow and each breath is labored. We watch and pray and cry. For several years we have watched the decline and we have worried about this day and now it is here. Every hour finds one of us walking into the bedroom and silently watching over her.

Yesterday several of her friends came over to say their good-byes. She is unaware on so many levels and (we are all hoping) so aware on the most important level of all. We all hope that our love is able to penetrate the fog that has enveloped her consciousness. There are tears to be shared all around and then hugs and just all the love that develops when a group of people have decided to call each other ‘family’.

We know that it has been over a year now that she forgot the boys, her deepest memories…all gone now. It has been even longer than that since she could remember who I was but then, I am the newbie, I have only been in the family for 22 years. I am OK with that, it has given me the distance to be able to help him watch his mother decline without being an emotional mess myself.

The grandkids all know and they are making visits as they can. The great-grandkids never had much chance to get to know her like everyone else did. By the time most of them were born she was already a stranger. That part makes me sad for the kids. They will only have our memories to go by now. Pictures will be important to some and not so important to others.

We, my husband and I, have been crying each day for two weeks now. We are not done crying yet. Once we are done with our own tears there will be tears for the rest of the family and the friends who have meant so much to us (and her) in the last year who will all grieve like she was their grandmother too. We will hug them and smile with them and carry a big box of tissue to help wipe away the tears.

I write today to take the place of some of the tears. I face my own fears and shortcomings as a daughter-in-law now at the end of her life. I sit and reflect on our years together and I laugh out loud at some of the arguments and jokes we shared. I let the tears roll gently down my cheeks as I come to terms with her end here and her new beginning “over there”.

Our buddy came in last night with his family to sing her some songs to help ease her spirit and to let her know that we are all OK and that she could leave anytime she was ready…not that we are rushing her…everyone just hates to see her hurting. I stood there crying, listening to the soft beat of the drum and the soothing sound of his voice. I know that she heard him too.

My husband asked me months ago if the Alzheimer’s would kill her. I told him ‘No. her body would give out long before the disease had time to run it’s course’. That is what we see now…her little body getting tired of fighting. That is the part we cannot help her with. All our coaxing and all our prayers cannot give her more strength if she is too tired to fight anymore. All we can do now is watch her go peacefully with our love to ferry her on.

Life, Me, Sundance

Just a Little Lost

Out of sorts, that’s what I am, out of sorts. The last two weeks I have been going non-stop and still haven’t taken a moment for myself. I know that this is the normal way of life for most people, especially if you are a parent or spouse but today I stopped, just for a minute and remembered…I remembered that I am. I let myself get all shuffled into the craziness of minute workaday details and forgot to smile, forgot to laugh, forgot to write (not really…it has weighed heavy on my mind all week but I didn’t slow down to write).

There have been so many things going through my mind, things I need to comment on and think about and poke fun at but I didn’t. So I logged off my email on purpose (just for a minute) to sit down here and see if there way anything that I just needed to say………..

The New Year is here….there are several different beginnings of a year for so many people and mine is about to start again and I am excited and happy and tired already. I have cleaned and repaired my camping equipment, washed everything I could stuff into the washing machine, painted prayer sticks and cut material for prayer flags, stripped herbs for making teas and restocked the conventional first-aid kit (you know someone will need a bandage during ten days of primative camping). I have written list after list after list of things I need and things he should not forget. I have inventoried totes and positioned them for transport.

I realized today that I have been using some of my camping totes for over 10 years (not a bad run).

There are more prayers to be made, more groceries to be bought, more cleaning and packing to be done but it is the New Year and these things cannot be put off.

I sweat lugging totes out of garage and then back into the garage, I sweat while going through each tote to ensure of its contents, I sweat because the heat index is pushing 100 degrees and then I remembered to smile.

The sweating and the sun go together at the beginning of my New Year! The celebration that begins on the first day of purification comes not without tears and sacrifice and by the end of the forth day of the dance knowledge and enormity of what has just been accomplished will be celebrated at well.

And after sitting her for a minute to remember to write this down I realize that I am not so lost afterall.

firstnationwoman

First Nations Women are the Nations' first ladies

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