Gifts that we must know, are those that bring us the perception of Oneness of all things, and the Harmony and Balance of Nature. To know these gifts is important for America. The Indian knew their land. They knew all of the relationships between all the living things of this land, and they knew their own relationship to all of these relationships. Living this knowledge, they had the power to survive and maintain their existence for thousands of years. It would do us no good to seek to know about America and its natural ways from any source other than the American Indian. Their knowledge was far superior to that of our progressive scientific and technological community. We, as Americans today, are destroying America and are, in the way of frozen circles, destroying the Earth. We must know these gifts that the Indians have for us, and we must know them their way. Here is my story of how I learned.
On the day of the last full moon of Summer, I went very high into the Sierra Nevada Mountains to a very special place, where I know that I am close to the Great Spirit and close to aII of the beings that create and dream our universe. We have these sacred places, and it is our duty and honored task to seek them, for they are the only places where we can find our centers, our unity between our hearts and minds. My place is very powerful, and I go there to strengthen my own power and to reinforce my spirit through communion with all spirits. There I find the oneness and harmony that is truly the way of the Red path of the living medicine way. On this occassion, I was most disturbed by the failing on my part to find the path and to continue seeking the Truth.
As I approached the summit of this particular pass, I was suddenly overcome by the immensity of this universe and the most humbling realization that I was to this universe lowlier than the smallest ants. This realization seemed not only to refer to myself alone but to all men. As my awareness of this became more intense I succombed to the darkness of my spirit. The blackness filled my whole presence, and it was as if it were night; but a night with no stars nor moon nor any thing, a void. From the depths of the void came a sound that was much familiar yet was one i could not place nor understand. As it grew louder and came closer to me, i realized, much to my embarrassment, that the sound was the great waves of the Pacific Ocean. They came from some small orifice that i could not accurately sense in any perceptable manner.
Suddenly, all was quiet and i grew fearful. A voice touched my right ear and said, "Do not fear little Lost One, I am sent here to protect you.” The voice spoke with the rolling slush of an ebbing tide, but also with the crashing of storm surf on rocky shorelines. It was confusing and frightening and yet simultaneously very peaceful.
This creature with such a voice, informed me that he was a sea otter from the West, and he was to show me the ways of that direction, so that i would know them. He brought to me old lady who was a rug maker. She began to weave a rug. As the rug took shape, she grew younger and then began her story. It was now quite light again, and I could see very clearly as she wove her rug, teaching me, through the otter, the circle of the West. She revealed to me that each stitch of the rug has in its nature, the existence of the whole rug. Without that one stitch, in any one place, the rug would not be whole, nor would the rug be the same. For all time, that stitch exists as does the rug. Even when the wool that made that stitch was just growing on the sheep, when the sheep was born, the existence of the rug and that stitch was inherent in that wool. The grasses and plants that fed the sheep and dyed the wool are synchronicitously inherent. And should the rug be burned and the ashes scattered, the existence of the rug and that stitch remain eternal in the scattered ashes, even as they return to sediments in the eons to yet come. Likewise, the sea otter and the mountains and all things live in eternity. The glaciers that carved the mountains are forever carving them, as are the mountains always as they are now. All things of power and spirit, that are the unity of the universe, are related in this manner. The way of the West is to look inside yourself and see this and see how this relates to everything.
The otter said to me, "It is the Indian way that the universe is conceived as a living, unified community in which all living things, plants as well as animals and men, rocks and mountains as well as clouds and air, from the lowest and most humble, to the highest and most powerful, the spirit beings, and all the elements and powers of the earth and heaven, have their proper and useful places. Man as one of the forms of living beings in this universal community, is in vital relation with all others." When any of these things are touched by processes other than the natural flow, or by people outside of the path and unable to see the unique flowing of nature, then the whole world and universe is involved and subject to the evil inherent in that action. "Look inside yourself and see the responsibility that you hold in any action that you precipitate in the cosmos and the ripples of effect that flow endlessly outward. Know yourself from the inside.''
The rug-maker gave me her completed rug at this time and showed me the pattern. This teaching of the West brought to me the understanding of the grief and pain experienced by Indians when they see the indigenous/native forms of life ruthlessly and wantonly destroyed. The rug showed that is was not the reality of economic loss, nor the loss of valuable sources of food, which caused distress to Indians when they witnessed the destruction of wild rice fields and forests of pines, but it was the sense of a fearful Void in nature, ensuing upon the extinction of any given species where it had formerly flourished. They were deeply hurt to contemplate the disruption of nature's nice balance; the destruction of the universes’ symmetries. As i held the rug it began to disappear. I asked why this was, but i heard, nor saw nothing. It was the void; the darkness returned, and i again grew fearful.
As my fear grew, compounded by my feeling that i had been found and lost again, i was whirled around by powerful winds, from what i thought had been the West. Staggering to maintain a sense of direction from my previous orientation, i bumped into something of much greater size and bulk than myself. Throwing caution to the wind, in hopes of finding some semblance of order and direction, i clung to this being which was covered by a thick layer of fur. As my grasp became more furious, this thing made a very discernable and quite frightening noise. Sort of like "harrummph!" The sound, i learned later, is known as the bear (mata) sound, or the hunting kill sound. I interpreted it to mean let go and cool it, so i did what I felt I had been told to do. Light once again was made manifest. I could see that this creature was indeed a bear, of medium size, cinnamon colored, and not overly aggressive. The bear was now covered with snow, and I grew very cold. He took some notice of this and surrounded me with his immense bulk to keep me warm. All the while he was obviously thinking or concentrating on something other than me.
You have discovered arachnoanarchy
otter clan omarian otter oasis
