Kindling the Native Spirit: Sacred Practices for Everyday Life

“I think one of those ‘End of the World’ people came onto our porch last night and left us a message,” said my husband, David, as he came into the house a bit amused and plopped down the morning’s newspaper on the kitchen table.

“What? You’re kidding!” I replied, as I poured coffee for our ritual of reading the newspaper and drinking coffee together to start our day.

“It’s the strangest thing,” he said. “There’s a large cardboard box on the porch that has writing all over it—something about earth changes, the end of times, and fiery devastation. You know, it’s the stuff that ‘The End Is Coming’ people always write about. But it’s strange that they left us a cardboard box instead of a pamphlet.”

“Um . . .” I gulped. “Actually, I think it was me. I think I wrote all over the cardboard box in the middle of the night . . . and then completely forgot about it.”

I suddenly remembered what had happened. In the middle of the night, I’d had a powerful dream. It was so real . . . and it came with a commanding and seemingly prophetic message. I was acutely disturbed by the dream and had stumbled in the dark onto the front porch to get some fresh air.

There was a cardboard box next to the front door that I’d left there the day before on its way to the recycle bin, and curiously there was also a pen that had been left on the porch. In the dim light of the street lamp, sitting on the porch in my pajamas, I grabbed the pen to write down the dream. I furiously filled all sides of the cardboard box. I wanted to capture all of it, as it seemed of great importance.

After I had scribbled the dream on the box, I went into the house, got back into bed, and fell asleep. When I awoke in the morning, I had no memory of the dream or of having written it down. However, I was grateful for my scrawling on the cardboard box to remind me of my nocturnal message, which continues to be one of the most profound dreams that I’ve ever had in my life.

My dream took place in the future. I was floating high above the earth, and as I looked down at our planet, something terrible seemed to have happened. I didn’t know what it was, but there was heat and fire . . . and so much suffering. As I floated closer to the earth, I could see through the ceiling of a house with two children in it. They seemed to be aware of me, and they both looked up pleadingly, as if to say, Please do something. There was more to the dream, but the overall sense was of despair and urgency. The dream felt like a plea to do whatever we could to avert this possible future.

I was also aware, in my dream, that what I saw was a strong possibility for our collective future, but it wasn’t carved in stone. I knew that our planet’s potential destiny could change, but it would take a shift in consciousness. It would take living in “right relation.” And I knew that each of us could make that difference.

Here’s what I know: At this moment, we stand at the advent of the most exciting time in the history of our planet. We hold in our hands the opportunity to shape planetary destiny through our actions, our thoughts, and our dreams. The potential for momentous change has never been greater, yet the accompanying responsibility can feel overwhelming. It’s easy to feel hopeless in the onslaught of discouraging facts and slide into fear, apathy, and inaction. But these attitudes, although understandable, are a luxury we can no longer afford.

In the 24 hours since this time yesterday, over 200,000 acres of rain forest have been destroyed in our world. Thirteen million tons of toxic chemicals have been released into our environment. More than 21,000 people have died from starvation, most of them children. And 150 to 200 plant and animal species have been driven to extinction by the actions of humans; this is 1,000 times the natural rate, say biologists. And all of this since yesterday.

The ecological disintegration that is occurring in the environments around us is echoed in the inner landscape of the soul. Many of us sense that our inner life has become impoverished. We hunger to once again feel connected to the forces of nature and the sacredness of life. We yearn for a viable connection to the mountains, the trees, and the sky. In the deepest crevice of our being, the soul is searching for this connection, listening for it, and sending out tentative tendrils of energy to find it.

In spite of our apparent disconnection, however, there still exists a link intimately connecting our soul to the natural world. But this umbilical cord connecting us to the lifeblood of the earth is stretched so thin that it’s in danger of severing. It’s now more urgent than ever that we strengthen this cord so that vital energy can once again surge through it from the earth to us and back again.

Most people in Western cultures see the world as containing separate and unrelated things. They don’t view themselves as a part of nature; rather, they view themselves as something greater than it. Hence, as a culture, we don’t usually consider the ecological impacts of our actions. We don’t realize that every action has a filament that connects it to the rest of the world. There’s no doubt that the challenges facing us are real. The problems that threaten the well-being of our species and our entire planet are large and immediate.

The news media daily presents us with information that’s both frightening and true. Pollution, wars, environmental destruction, global warming, nuclear fallout, oil fracking, pandemic flu, Frankenfoods, invasion of privacy, overpopulation, GMOs, the decimation of endangered lands and animals . . . we’re constantly confronted with evidence of current and impending crises. However, less frequently are we reminded of the inspiring efforts that are being made to turn the tide. It’s important to honor these successes because they encourage faith and belief in the future, and our beliefs will be a powerful force in determining whether we move forward into a bright future or one filled with global devastation.

The inner beliefs that we hold individually (and as a culture) dramatically affect our lives. Our current Western view of the world is laying waste to the environment as well as to the relationships that we have with each other and with the land. But beliefs can change. Kindling the native spirit within you means that you live in right relationship with the forces of nature as well as with other human beings. It’s not always easy in a world that is increasingly separating us from the organic and natural flow of the universe, but it’s worth the effort; even one person can make a difference. It only takes one lighthouse to safely guide ships to shore, and just one candle to illuminate a dark space. You can be that light for others.

Charlie Soap, who is a Cherokee advocate, producer of the film The Cherokee Word for Water, and husband of former Principal Chief Wilma Mankiller, said this about his tribe’s way of living:

Long before the United States existed, the Cherokee people had a society based on democratic principles. They were guided by the spirit of balance between self and community, elders and youth, and men and woman.

Living in balance and in “right relation” is about being in a respectful relationship and being in balance with all dimensions of life, from people, to plants and animals, to the entire planet and beyond—and you’ll learn ways to practice this in this final chapter. You’ll also discover ways to step into your role as a sacred Earthkeeper, as well as understand the potency of ceremonies and rituals for living in balance. In the deepest sense, you know how to live in right relationship with all aspects of your life. The idea of living in right relation is endemic to the entire native way of life. At its core, living in right relation is about a profound shift of identity . . . it’s about merging and melding with the natural world, rather than feeling separate from it.

When you kindle the native spirit within you, you’ll begin to see the universe as it truly is . . . spiraling, interwoven patterns of energy. Beneath a staid appearance of separateness lies a vibrant, unified field of energies that coalesce in and out of solidity and form. You understand that Earth, in all her facets, is alive. This is not just a romantic notion. Earth has a consciousness and awareness. We are her kinsfolk. In speaking about the traditional Lakota right relationship with the land and animals, the respected Chief Luther Standing Bear said this in 1933:

Kinship with all creatures of the earth, sky and water was a real and active principle. For the animal and bird world there existed a brotherly feeling that kept the Lakotas safe among them, and so close did some of the Lakotas come to their feathered and furred friends, that in true brotherhood they spoke a common tongue.

The old Lakota was wise. He knew that man’s heart away from nature becomes hard; he knew that lack of respect for growing, living things soon led to lack of respect for humans, too. . . . In the Indian, the spirit of the land is vested; it will be until other men are able to divine and meet its rhythm [Land of the Spotted Eagle. Boston and New York: Houghton-Mifflin, 1933].

Stepping into your role as an Earthkeeper means that you begin to live in “right relation” with the world around you. You walk in harmony with the natural world, and you literally feel the pulse of the earth within you. And as a result, the spirit of the planet blossoms in your soul. The rivers are your blood; the wind is your breath. You’ll begin to sense the world around you in a different way. Your awakening as an Earthkeeper will be palpable. In unseen yet tangible ways, you’ll sense the profound effect you have on others and the planet as a whole.

One small shift can change everything. As John Muir said, “When we try to pick out anything by itself, we find it hitched to everything else in the Universe.” One single shift can have far-reaching results, whether it’s in the physical or spiritual realms. When one stone is added or subtracted from a stream, it can forever alter its course. A similar thing also occurs in consciousness. If even one person shifts their consciousness and activates their inner native spirit, the world changes. In the Aboriginal worldview, everything leaves a record in the land. Every meaningful life event and every activity creates a kind of vibrational echo that can be felt far into the future. Your consciousness counts. As you plant seeds of compassion, love, and support, they will blossom for future generations.

Here’s an example from the natural world of the impact that one shift can make. By 1926 all the wolves in Yellowstone National Park had been killed. As a result, elk and deer proliferated without their natural predators. Since one thing had been removed from the ecosystem, the entire ecology changed. Then, between 1995 and 1997, 41 wolves were reintroduced into Yellowstone. Although this was a small number of wolves for such a large area of over 3,000 square miles, something remarkable began to happen. An amazing explosion of biodiversity occurred as a result. Wolves are predators and they take life, but they also give life to an environment. When there were no wolves, there were too many deer and elk and they overgrazed the valleys. As soon as the wolves arrived, elk avoided valleys, where they would have been easy prey; so bushes, flowers, plants, and trees grew. Aspen and willow groves sprung up where there had been almost barren land.

The landscape was dramatically altered in just a few years. The new trees provided cover for large numbers of birds, and the berries on the trees provided additional food for the bears. The rivers no longer had their banks trampled down by the elk, so pools formed, and the rivers became more fixed in their course, and the water became clearer. Beaver then increased their dams; and more otters, muskrats, and ducks moved in. The wolves also hunted some of the coyotes, which meant more mice survived the appetites of the coyotes, which meant more bald eagles and hawks that eat the mice. And the dwindling population of foxes increased, because there were fewer coyotes to hunt them. One small shift made a huge difference.

In native tradition, there’s a continued awareness of the effect of our actions on the generations ahead. For example, one should never make a major decision without considering the effect on the seventh generation to follow. How very different our world would be if we all adhered to this way of thinking. We would still have lush rain forests, clean water, and clear air. These are physical things, but the native consciousness and awareness that we cultivate within ourselves is also a part of our mystical lineage. As an Earthkeeper, the clarity, strength, focus, and passion that you ignite within yourself is not a small force. It can indeed be your bequest to the future.

When you become an Earthkeeper, the rhythmic language of the natural world begins to sing within you. Every part of nature—every flower, bird, and tree—has a unique language and its own cadence. If you take a moment to become very still, you can feel these rhythms inside of you, because you are a part of the cycles of nature.

I once spent the night in the outback with some Pitjantjatjara Aboriginal people in Australia, sleeping in a dry riverbed. When I awoke, I opened my eyes just in time to see the last star dissolve into the gray sky of early morning. It was so quiet. Then, as the the first ray of light rolled across the land like a great wave, a hum began to rise as one kind of insect and then another joined together in a song of awakening. When birds started singing, it was like a grand orchestra where one by one the instruments join in, building to a crescendo. I could feel the earth’s rhythm in my bones; I could inhale her rhythm into my body. It was like an immense heartbeat surging inside me, around me. And along with this rhythm I could feel a yearning growing within me. It was a deep longing for something I couldn’t quite remember, but knew that I had lost.

As nature is disappearing around us, we’re losing vast tracts of the wilderness inside ourselves as well. It’s as if the fertile soil of the soul is being gradually depleted. Every day as we lose part of our natural outer heritage, our inner heritage diminishes as well. Ancestral memories of life in the deep forest are being replaced by images of afternoon traffic and the sounds of pneumatic drills. Sirens drown out the songs of the birds. Something within us is dying as the chasm between humans and the natural world widens.

In the previous chapters, we’ve learned many different ways to kindle our native spirit, but in order to do this in totality, we must also activate the natural forces in our daily lives. Here are six ways to do it:

When you begin to think about the planet as a living, conscious organism, it can shift the way you perceive your relationship to the earth. This in turn can affect the way you live your life so that your life reflects the nature of this relationship. One excellent way to ignite this connection is to go on an inner meditative journey and imagine that you’re shape-shifting into the earth. Much like shape-shifting into a fox or a tree, as we discussed in Chapter 4, becoming one with Earth is an ancient and time-honored shamanistic tradition.

EXERCISE: BECOMING THE EARTH

Close your eyes. Enter into a meditative space and imagine that your body is beginning to expand . . . becoming bigger and bigger . . . so big, in fact, that you can feel yourself as the earth. Feel the deep heat in your core. Let the coolness of your oceans refresh you. Feel yourself revolving around the powerful force of the sun. Day turns to night and night to day again. Sense the warmth and light of the sun on half of you, while the other side reposes in darkness. You are always in a balance. When the warmth of summer is on one half, the coolness of winter encompasses the other. You’re spinning in a vast and infinite cosmos.

From a scientific point of view, nature and everything around you is composed of atoms, which are the basic building blocks of the universe. Yet, when an atom is examined, you discover that it’s nearly all empty space. Most of it is vast emptiness, dotted with small amounts of matter, not unlike the void of outer space that’s dotted with planets and stars. However, this emptiness is not barren, cold, and lifeless. It contains potential energy waiting to be born. It’s an invisible force that holds the world together.

Native people intuitively knew about this infinite space of the universe, but what scientists call emptiness . . . they called Spirit. Throughout history, earth-based people have always understood the earth to be a living being. If you want to honor and activate the hidden forces within your life, one of the most powerful ways to do this is to spend time in nature. However, do this without jogging and without a cell phone, a musical device, a watch, or a laptop. Simply be present in nature. Inhale it. Stretch out in tall grasses and feel the earth’s cadence ripple through your body. Dig your hands into soil or sand. Stand with your back to a tree. Take an afternoon stroll through a park. Dangle your feet in a creek. See, hear, feel, and smell it all in silence.

Throughout history, native peoples almost always spent time barefoot, sitting and sleeping on the earth. Through direct contact (or through sweat-moistened animal skins used as footwear or sleeping mats, which acted as electric conductors) some of the electrons that exist on the surface of the earth transferred into their body. Being in close contact with the earth is called “earthing” and has been found scientifically to have great health benefits.

Mounting evidence suggests that the oscillation of the earth’s electrical circuitry helps create a positive environment for the normal functioning of our bodies’ systems. In other words, direct contact with the earth allows the electrical flow of the planet to stabilize the bioelectrical environment in our organs, tissues, and cells. Moreover, these oscillations may be important for setting the biological clocks regulating diurnal body rhythms, such as cortisol secretion. Research also suggests that direct contact with the earth can reduce acute and chronic inflammation. Emerging research points to clinically significant positive changes in sleep patterns, including sleep apnea and insomnia, pain reduction, reduction in respiratory conditions, better nerve health, and a blood thinning effect. Reduction of primary indicators of osteoporosis, improvement of glucose regulation, and a strengthened immune response are also linked to spending time with your feet on the earth.

A more recent, but yet to be definitively proven, theory that has sound science behind it is the idea that earthing can have a positive effect on the water structure in our cells—especially blood flow and cardiac rhythm. The water in our cells achieves its structured balance from the natural electromagnetic field of the earth, and it becomes disrupted when we are not in contact with the earth, which in turn can contribute to health problems, including strokes.

Our bodies are genetically programed to be in contact with the earth. (It’s only been in the last 50 years or so that we’ve been wearing insulating rubber or plastic soles on our shoes that separate us from the electrical flows of the earth.) Nobel Prize winner Richard Feynman—in his lectures on electromagnetism—states that when the body is “earthed,” it becomes an extension of the earth’s gigantic electric system, and when this occurs, our bodies move into a natural harmony.

Some effective surfaces to ground yourself are grass, sand, moss, stones, bare soil, and unpainted/unsealed concrete and brick. You can also remain partially grounded, even if you’re not barefoot, by wearing shoes with no plastic or rubber in them when walking across these surfaces. Staying grounded in a modern dwelling is more difficult. It’s challenging to be earthed by going barefoot inside your home, as many common flooring materials are poor conductors.

In one double-blind study, 28 subjects were divided into two groups: one was grounded and one was not. Ten exercises were then repeated five times over a one-hour period. Blood was taken before and after each exercise and analyzed for blood viscosity using a scanning capillary viscometer. The results concluded that those who were earthed significantly reduced their systolic blood viscosity and diastolic blood viscosity (which means their blood was thinner, which is good). Less viscous blood allows more oxygen flow into the body and decreases the chance of a stroke.

Studies also show that earthing the human body creates significant effects on electrophysiological properties of the brain and musculature. Even a few minutes a day being in close contact with the earth can make a difference. Although substantial further research needs to be done, these preliminary studies give credence to the notion that it’s good to be outdoors and in contact with the earth.

In addition to spending time outside, you can also connect deeply to nature through visualization exercises. This is amazing but true. It works because there’s a place in the brain that believes what you visualize is real and responds physiologically. For example, research done at Manchester Metropolitan University has proved that muscle strength can be improved by 16 percent just by visualizing exercising a muscle. In a study conducted by sports psychologist David Smith, the muscle strength in the small finger was first measured in a test group. Participants were then divided into three groups. One group performed strengthening exercises; the second group only imagined exercising the little finger; and the third group did nothing at all. The exercisers increased their muscle strength by 33 percent. There was no improvement in the group that neither exercised nor visualized, but the group that only visualized exercising the finger showed an improvement of 16 percent in muscle strength.

Imagining yourself in nature can have a similar effect on your body as actually being in nature. For example, when people are actually in nature, their blood pressure and pulse decrease. Similarly, when people visualize being in nature, their pulse and blood pressure are reduced. The brain often responds physically to the things we visualize, as if they were actually occurring. Even just a few moments of visualization can deepen your connection to nature! Here’s an easy exercise that you can do:

EXERCISE: SUN-DRENCHED SEASHORE VISUALIZATION

Imagine that you are at the seashore stretched out on the sand. You feel totally at ease as the warmth of the sand radiates up through your body. The sound of the waves crashing against the shore brings wave after wave of relaxing energy ﬂowing through your body. A lone seagull circles lazily overhead in a vivid blue sky, and you know that all is well.

You and your body are a part of nature. Your body is the result of an evolutionary process of nature over millions of years. As humans we’ve had thousands of years to adapt to natural environments, yet only a few generations to adapt to urban spaces. Our bodies have a hereditarily programmed need to spend time outside; they’ve adapted to nature, just as every animal and plant has done. When an animal is removed from its natural habitat, its energy usually wanes. It’s encoded to interact with its particular environment. Our bodies have been taken out of our natural ancestral environments, and most certainly this is causing great difficulties for us. If we don’t include the forces of nature in our environments, not only do we rob ourselves of a rich source of aesthetic and spiritual satisfaction, but also we place our health at risk. Our salvation lies in bringing nature back into our environments.

Nature can be found in the four elements—Air, Water, Fire, and Earth—that comprise the natural world around us. Each element, as we saw in Chapter 1, has a unique rhythm that’s essential to the balance of life. By simulating the natural cycles of each element, you can bring even more harmony into your home and into your life. For example, when you open your windows to allow sunshine to flood in, you’re connecting to the Spirit of Fire. If you have a home fountain, the natural sound of the water on the stones can connect you to the movement and rhythm of the Spirit of Water. Put some pinecones in an earthen pot or diffuse essential oils to invite the Spirit of Earth. Playing a recording of songbirds, even if you live in a city, invites the Spirit of Air. Recent research has found that listening to nature sounds at work has a restorative effect on cognitive abilities. While listening to natural sounds such as songbirds, rain, or ocean waves, workers not only performed better at their tasks, but they also reported feeling more positive about their environment. When you bring the rhythms of the elements into your space, you’ll feel even more deeply connected to all life on Earth.

When you invite the feeling of nature into your home, it isn’t just for psychological reasons—there are solid physiological reasons as well. Research has shown, for instance, that heart-surgery patients in intensive care units who viewed landscape scenes (via paintings or photos) reported less anxiety and stress and needed less pain medication than a control group that was not exposed to the pictures. People recovering from appendicitis surgery needed less time to recover if they were either in a room with a window out to nature or had a room with realistic artwork of nature. (Curiously, but not surprisingly, those with the window to nature and the artwork of nature had similar recovery times. Those with no window or nature artwork had slower recovery times. And, those with abstract or modern art had longer recovery times.) Additionally, anything that gives the illusion of nature, such as fireplaces, wildlife videos, or aquariums can have a beneficial effect on the viewer. This gives credence to the idea that the more you can create aspects of nature in your home, the more you will benefit.

Living in right relation and being an Earthkeeper especially means being grateful to all of Creation. The native view of prayer is different than the Western one. Often in Western religions, we pray for things. We might pray for a new job or pray for the healing of an ailment. And we, as a culture, assign one day a week for our devotions. But in native cultures, prayers are constant and daily, in simple, deep, and profound appreciation for the blessings received. Instead of asking for something, the prayers are of appreciation and gratitude. Gratitude infuses life with vibrancy. Here is an example of a prayer of thankfulness:

EXERCISE: A PRAYER OF GRATITUDE

I thank you, Creator, for this remarkable day. Thank you for the grass beneath my feet and the clouds in the sky above me. Thank you for the wondrous ability to see, hear, smell, and feel the vast and infinite universe in its glory, and for the sun, moon, trees, mountains, streams, rivers, and seas. I am so grateful to you for your blessings, guidance, and love. Thank you, thank you, for this day!

Another way to be in right relation is to create ceremonies for your life. In native cultures, rituals and rites of passage have always been a part of life; they were a way of honoring the natural cycles of the planet, deepening the connection with the Creator, and creating stronger bonds within the community. They marked the important moments that punctuated the milestones of an individual’s passage through life, such as of birth, transitioning into adulthood, and marriage. There were also ceremonies for the change of the seasons, for healing, and for rituals to prepare warriors for battle and to welcome them home. These traditions emphasized the fact that an individual was not alone, but rather an integral part of a larger community that extended both backward and forward in time.

All of our native ancestors used ceremony in every aspect of their lives. There were purification ceremonies to be performed when taboos were broken. There were planting rituals, ceremonies to bring rain, thanksgiving rituals for the harvest, hunting rituals, and even eating rituals. Ceremonies were performed to celebrate personal events, such as recovery from a serious illness, moving into a new house, or completing a dangerous journey. Performing these rituals offered a way of showing honor and respect for the divine aspects that are present in ordinary life. They gave people a way of marking their triumphs as well as their defeats, and of filling life passages—both large and small—with their proper significance and greater meaning.

Ceremonies allow us to enter into the great mystery of the universe and the flow of the natural world, as well as help us step beyond the normal parameters of life. They can also help us mend many emotional wounds, ranging from the loss of a loved one to the wound of raw anger in response to grievance. Sometimes emotions can be too intense to be controlled through an act of will. Uncontrolled, they may escalate into aggressive behavior or violence (as did my mother’s anger regarding the way her people were treated). It may be that some of the discontent and disconnect in today’s world is the result of the absence of ceremony in our lives, as rituals can provide a safe means of releasing these intense emotions. Being an Earthkeeper means that you have an understanding of the power of ceremonies.

I’ve heard some say, “How can anyone who’s not a blood quantum or enrolled member of a tribe perform ceremonies?” This, to me, is a strange concept because ceremonies are about inviting the Creator into your midst, and the Creator is here for everyone, not just for someone who is of a certain bloodline. I love remembering what my revered teacher Nundjan Djiridjarkan said to me: “Being native isn’t what’s in your blood, it’s what’s in your soul.” A ceremony that’s done with a loving heart generates more kindness, support, and compassion in the world . . . and this is a good thing. It’s okay to create your own ceremony. Search your heart. Follow your inner lineage and the ceremony will emerge, bright, shining, and vibrant. A ceremony that’s done in a rote, mundane way serves no one. Some say, “If they’re not traditional ceremonies, then they’re not authentic.” Although many ceremonies of the past were officiated by a medicine man, medicine woman, shaman, or holy person, it’s not necessary to always use a mediator between the human and spirit realms. You have within you a place that’s holy and sacred, an inner sage, and you can access your inner wisdom and intuition when you create your own rituals.

Some valuable ceremonies to create for yourself or your family members are rite-of-passage ceremonies that mark the end of one phase of life and initiate us into who we’re becoming. It’s important to honor these events as a way of acknowledging our journey through life, as they pay homage to the cosmic relationship between human beings and the natural world. They also allow us to experience our connection to the rhythms of the universe.

Performing ceremonies in a circle is very powerful because it honors each individual in an equal way and brings people together. Here’s an example of how you can create your own ceremony using the symbolism of the medicine wheel:

To welcome a newborn into his or her extended family, create an indoor or outdoor medicine wheel. Invite friends and family. Smudge or use a feather to cleanse each person as they form a circle around the medicine wheel. Holding the newborn child, one or both parents enter from the east and step into the center of the circle. Face the baby to the east, the place of the rising sun and new beginnings. Call upon the Spirit of the East and ancestors, guides, and spirit guardians to fill the child’s life.

Continue around the circle calling the spirit of each of the directions and spirit helpers to come forward. Then hold the child low, level with your lower torso, and ask for the blessings of Grandmother Earth. Hold the baby at shoulder level and call up Grandfather Sky to give blessings. Then hold the child level with your heart and ask for blessings from the Creator. Step out of the center of the circle and walk the circle so that each person in attendance can offer blessings to the child. (One parent can carry the child and the other parent can carry a pot or basket for friends and family members to fill with words or objects that symbolize their blessings.)

A variation of this medicine-wheel ceremony can be created for birthdays, weddings, coming-of-age celebrations, graduations, going to or returning from war, moving, divorce, and death.

Being in right relation also means treating everyone we encounter with respect, no matter his or her age, religion, race, gender, or creed. In many native cultures, a tradition called the “tribal council” emerged out of that cosmology. Being in council brings people together, builds community spirit, and cultivates right relation . . . and it’s a practice that we can incorporate into our own lives.

Here’s how it works: Traditionally when a decision was to be made for the tribe, the elders or specific members would sit together in a circle. These meetings were different than most Westernized meetings in that there wasn’t a hierarchy with a boss at the top. It’s said in native traditions that the best leaders aren’t necessarily those who speak their truth for all to hear, but those rare individuals who are a safe space for the truth of others to be heard. The sacred council creates those kinds of leaders. Each person’s opinion matters equally.

Each person in the circle has a chance to speak; and when someone speaks, all listen. If there is a dispute in life with another (or with others), you take the time to understand their point of view. Remember the adage, “When you walk a mile in my moccasins, you will know my journey.” In council usually there’s a decorated “talking stick” or “talking feather” (as mentioned in Chapter 3). Whoever holds the talking stick has a commitment to speak the truth. Only the person holding the stick or feather speaks; others listen with their hearts, rather than trying to think of a good rebuttal. Participants listen with the idea of understanding the perspective of another.

When you speak your truth, you are heard . . . and when others speak their truth, they are heard. It’s a powerful process, and this is an activity that we can adopt in our own lives with our families and/or friends. Although someone may be officiating at the council, there’s the perception that all voices are heard equally and respectfully. The sacred council has the ability to be a catalyst for transformation for those who participate.

EXERCISE: TRIBAL COUNCIL VISUALIZATION

Imagine that you’re around a tribal fire in a special place in nature, or inside a long house, lodge, teepee, hut, or cave. Surrounding the circle is a council of your spirit helpers. They might be your ancestors, animal allies, or other spiritual guides. Imagine each one, in turn, holding a talking stick and giving you a message or advice. Listen with your heart to each thing shared. (As a suggestion, record in a journal the date of your meditation and the messages received.)

To live in right relation, share your wisdom. Share your stories. The art of storytelling is ancient in earth-based cultures. It’s woven into the fiber of what it means to be native. Traditionally, once individuals had completed their physically productive years, they could then turn their energies inward to the spiritual realm. For this reason, the spiritual legacies—the stories of the tribe—were laid on the shoulders of the elders for preservation for subsequent generations. The function of the elders as the “keepers of the memory” was essential to the survival of the entire society. It was believed that without these memories, a race has no future.

A present-day example of this generational wisdom occurred during the December 2004 tsunami that hit Thailand and the surrounding areas. A community of people called the Morgan Sea Gypsies, who lived in isolation for decades on an island off the coast of Thailand, emerged from the tsunami almost unscathed because tribal wisdom had been passed down about what to do when the “wave that eats people” arrived. An entire community was saved because of what the elders remembered that had been passed down to them.

There’s great value in sharing generational stories; however, sometimes the most sacred stories are about our lives, for our personal stories are the holy wafer that creates communion between us. Our stories allow each of us to find common ground, for when we share our challenges and our triumphs, we hear, “Yes, I know what you mean. I’ve experienced that, too.” Hearing the story of another’s difficulties can also lessen our struggles. And our triumphs can be magnified through the power of our personal stories, for in each telling, we become richer and fuller.

Our personal stories weave the past, the present, and the future into a tapestry that reminds us that we do not live alone, that we are a part of a long lineage of people who have gone before us and who will continue beyond us. It’s important that we recognize that in the retelling of our life experiences, we have become part of a long and continuing chain of oral tradition.

Please tell your stories. Let them be heard. Share them with your children, your friends—and the world. They are your personal myths, mighty and potent. In ways beyond your conscious knowing, your stories bring benefit to the world; they can inspire, heal, teach, and give strength to others.

An elder of the Taranaki Maori shared with me the importance that stories have had in his life. He painted a beautiful picture of what it was like to grow up in a culture that still revered the old ways and in which traditional stories still played a significant part in the training of the young:

In our tradition, we were taught at a young age to know and learn our history; about our family tree; and our songs, chants, legends, and stories. An old one would often call us together to sit under a tree and listen to the teachings. They taught us our spiritual way of life and how to communicate with our ancestors who had passed on.

Our old people were very strict in their teachings. We all had to learn the ceremonies and their importance in our way of life. We learned how to collect food and herbal medicines from the forest, rivers, lakes, streams, and the sea. We also learned the old traditions of storytelling. We gained knowledge of how to do things in a sacred way, and we were taught how to fast in order to receive a vision of the sacred things of our ancestors.

I can remember these days very clearly. There are not many left who can recall these teachings and sacred ways. Many of our people have gone the European way, leaving aside their Maori way of life. I miss those days with the old people, as so many of my teachers have now passed on.

EXERCISE: WRITE YOUR STORY

Write the story of your life . . . make it long, make it short, but claim it. Examine what you have gained and what you have learned. In the deepest sense, your story is not who you are, but it’s your personal myth. Share it. Listen to the stories of others. You might even want to share stories around candlelight or around a fire in honor of the traditions of the far past.

When we live in right relation, we cherish our elders. In Western culture, we diminish our elders and don’t hold them in esteem. In native cultures, the older that one is, the more they are revered. Elders are treated as wise beings, and hence respond in kind. In our present-day culture, our elders are often viewed as second-class citizens, and this can become a self-fulfilling prophecy, for if one is treated as useless there’s a tendency to feel a lack of worth.

When I’ve visited native cultures, in which elders are respected, I’m often called “Auntie” or “Grandmother” with fondness, even though I have no blood affiliation. This honoring of the elders is not an uncommon tradition. These terms of endearment are a kind of cleaving of community and a declaration that we are connected. Nundjan Djiridjarkan talked to me about the place of elders in his Aboriginal culture:

In our tradition, the elders were honored because they were the ones who had the knowledge. Before the white man came, there was no written knowledge. We passed on our laws and our knowledge through the oral tradition. And the old people were the keepers of this. They were the ones who had lived longer and experienced more things. They knew what to do if a big storm came or something like that. They were the ones who had the answers. See, it might have been a hundred years since such a big storm or drought had come. And these were the people who had the knowledge in that area. No one else had it. You couldn’t just get the information out of a book; you had to get it from one of the old ones. So that’s where the respect came in.

It doesn’t take a cardboard box with ominous messages written all over it for us to know that things are out of balance and to know that something needs to change. It’s self-evident. We intuitively know that the more we connect with our native roots and live in right relation with the world around us, the more our bountiful Earth can care for us all. We know that it is possible. There are many things we can each do. It can be a matter of simply changing our mind-set, and honoring the spirit of the earth in gratitude, or even taking time to sit in council to hear the truths of others with an open heart, or creating ceremonies in honor of a new paradigm for the future. Even something as simple as looking to our elders for wisdom can help to kindle the native spirit and bring balance to our planet.

Perhaps just one person can’t turn the tide, but there are many ways that we each can share the sacred responsibility, as Earth-keepers, to carry the wisdom of the past into the present and into the future. And the wonderful thing is that together we can do something; even the smallest thing can make a difference. All of our actions together, all of our hopes and dreams surging into a mighty river of consciousness, can create a better world—one we can look forward to, where our children’s children can live and love, right on down to the seventh generation and beyond.

I hold a vision of this future cresting on the horizon. I’d like to believe that together we can ignite the light of the native spirit so that for a thousand years from now it shines bright and bold for future generations. If we don’t do it, and do it now . . . who will? You have my love and support on this journey of the heart.