I was born in th' middle of two worlds. In the traditional "American Way". Raised as a good white citizen of the united states of america. When i was 15 years old i learned that my father was a Cherokee Indian. Which makes me half native american. This new knowledge explained a lot about myself that seemed strange to others. Like wanting to live outside. And catch anything that lived in the ditch. And know th' names of every plant, and what they were good for. But as i grew up, those things got tucked neatly away on a shelf in th' back closet of my mind. And for th' past few years i have started to blow the american dust off those old shelves and pull off of them th' missing pieces of my life. To have a good look at them. And put them back in place. And as i do so i realize that so many of th' things i've held dear all my life have ancient roots. Like wanting to live outside. And catch anything that lives in a ditch. And know th' names of every plant, and what they're good for. Th' natives of this land lived in relative peace and harmony with the earth. As friends. As Caretakers and cared for. But most of our society today lives in a violent and bloody battle against the earth. And Sadly, the earth seems to be losing. And sadder than that, if the earth loses, we all lose. Ed Iron-Cloud, a native of the Oglala Nation, said once that all we have left is prayer. And he's right, for we have destroyed everything else that has been given to us. But prayer cannot be destroyed by us. It must be consumed in fire and sent up as smoke to heaven. To be received as a burnt offering. Maybe that's why over 500 million acres of forest have burned in the u.s. in th' past 5 years. Maybe creation has been praying for us. It's caretakers. And cared fors'. Do you not believe that should we be silent even th' rocks would cry out? Do you not believe that all of creation moans and groans for liberation? How is it then that our own fires burn so dimly, if even at all? How is it that we do not cry out with creation? How have we gone so far as to see ourselves as separate from creation? We, whom the earth was created for?
Still i get into my car and drive th' paved roads of desecration. Roads paved in violence and asphalt. Roads made to go fast on. To speed up th' coming day. Roads that lead here and there. To everywhere. To anywhere. To nowhere. And then back to where we started from. Roads upon which we travel faster than horses to th' end of our lives. With death pouring out of our tailpipes. Ascending as smoke to heaven. Carbon-monoxide prayers prayed by engines made in factories in Japan. Or Detroit. Prayers prayed by th' turning of a key. By th' stepping on of a pedal. (Because i'm late for work.) Prayers prayed by a dimly lit heart in a world that is burning.
And so have i grown up. Not in -between two worlds, but wholly immersed in one. While getting glimpses, from time to time, of the other. Subtle reminders that there is another world. And that it is not only real, but more real than th' one i grew up in. Little things, like th' birds singing in th' morning. Or th' way th' light slants just before sundown, bathing everything in it's translucent glow. Casting long shadows dancing th' coming of night. And deep blue skies with clouds rolling by. A rainbow. And sitting by a river with no obligations. We each have our own reminders. You know them when you see them. You know them by th' faint longing that stirs within. By th' timeless stillness that lasts for a brief moment. And you wonder, how can timelessness be so short? But in those brief moments time collides violently with eternity. Gets sucked into it. Becomes merely a part of it. Th' Native Americans saw this. They understood it. They lived within th' knowledge of it. But us, we live in time. Eternity has escaped us. And now, sadly, even th' natives have all but lost their ways to th' cruel beast of time. Most have become modernized. They have been made to accept that life for them will never be as it once was. As only great-grandparents remember, and tell to great-grandchildren as bedtime stories. And everyone knows that bedtime stories aren't real. (Or are they?) Reservation is merely another word for prison. But a few have escaped. A few have seen th' danger in giving in to modern american society. They have made vows to return to life as their ancestors lived it from times' beginning. One of their vows is to respect all life. To them everything has a spirit. And that spirit deserves to be treated with decency just as any of us do. When God created the earth He saw that it was very good. Anything that is very good deserves to be treated with decency just as we think we do. And if we keep that in mind, if that is a part of our every decision, then we too just might return to living th' way our ancestors once lived. In th' beginning Adam and Eve walked together in a garden with God. A garden is more than just some vegetables you planted. A garden is a place that nourishes you. Nourishes your mind, body and spirit. A garden is a sanctuary. A holy place. A place where all life is interconnected. Inter-twined. Where violence to any part is violence to all. And where love to any part is love to all. Few of us realize, but th' world we live in is a garden. A very large one, and a now very unhealthy one; yet one that sustains us all despite how we've treated it. Each one of us have been appointed caretakers of th' garden. And as all of us are members of this garden together, we naturally are also caretakers of each other. The garden earth is our home, and all of humanity is related. We are all family. There is enough land to grow food for all of us. But we must realize that the garden is our home. That what we put into it is what we get out of it. We do not sow seeds of thistle and reap tomatoes. We cannot sow seeds of hate and reap th' fruits of love. This is so very important. Imagine if what was done to th' native americans happened to us. Or if th' destruction that war has reaped upon th' land and people of Iraq visited th' united states. Must we continue fighting until all of our "enemies" are dead? Must we fight until america is the only nation left. Or until th' rest of th' world bands together against america, and so it becomes no more. Is it better to be so lonely, or belong to a community that may at times disagree with us, but may also at times encourage and affirm us. We must realize that each one of us is a vital part of a larger body, that the entire human race is a family. In th' words of Chief Arvol Looking Horse, "Did you think the Creator would create unnecessary people in a time of such terrible danger? Know that you yourself are essential to this world. Believe that! Understand both the blessing and the burden of that. You yourself are desperately needed to save the soul of this world. Did you think you were put here for something less?" Each one of us hold th' keys not only to our own happiness, but to that of the entire world. In hating others we are hating ourselves. In condemning others we condemn ourselves. Killing others we kill ourselves. Loving we are loved in return. But i was born into a world that does not think that way. Into a world that tells me some people are less than human. And stand in th' way of progress. But half of my ancestors, th' Cherokee Nation, and my God, tell me that no life is unimportant. Not from th' smallest insect to th' most influential of men. That all life is tied together. And if all were to work together, in love, th' possibilities are unimaginable. For we have not yet seen but th' beginning of what love is capable of. We were created in love, and for love. In peace, and for peace. When we live in peace our lives become works of art. And we begin to resemble, once again, the image that we were created in. And our garden will produce abundantly.
