| One thing we know - there is only one God. No man, be he Red man or White man, can be apart. We ARE all brothers after all." |
We live in a sick, dysfunctional world that has destroyed the whole sense of “connectedness”.
Everyone is touched and affected by it. How each of us responds is an individual thing – yet
also based on the dysfunctional cultural norms of our time.
Black Elk’s recollection above describes one result of evil: other evil exists and has. It grinds
people and cultures down - it results in discrimination, prejudice and slaughter. There are
many examples: I’ve added a section called “Extreme Dysfunction” to the site here that
illustrates some of the worst ones. It includes the Montreal Massacre, the Holocaust,
Montsegur, Masada, and Wounded Knee - The Trail of Tears. This memorial connection
gives legitimacy and recognition to their lives: they are not forgotten.
No one person or group can stop it overnight. Yet, it isn’t hopeless; one doesn’t have to give
in to it, either. We each, in our own small way, can counter and resist it by promoting, and
practising love, empathy and compassion: thus establishing a wholesome and sane connection.
Small steps, to be sure, but all any of us can do is start with ourselves, and perhaps, through
example, affect someone else in a positive, wholesome way. Maybe it happens with only one
person at a time - each one teach one - but that’s how it works in life anyway.
Perhaps this is an example of learning to live as described in the ancient teachings: “be in the
world, but not of it”.
Thank you for putting up with my ramblings. Klaas+
Soundtrack: earthmother
Everyone is touched and affected by it. How each of us responds is an individual thing – yet
also based on the dysfunctional cultural norms of our time.
Black Elk’s recollection above describes one result of evil: other evil exists and has. It grinds
people and cultures down - it results in discrimination, prejudice and slaughter. There are
many examples: I’ve added a section called “Extreme Dysfunction” to the site here that
illustrates some of the worst ones. It includes the Montreal Massacre, the Holocaust,
Montsegur, Masada, and Wounded Knee - The Trail of Tears. This memorial connection
gives legitimacy and recognition to their lives: they are not forgotten.
No one person or group can stop it overnight. Yet, it isn’t hopeless; one doesn’t have to give
in to it, either. We each, in our own small way, can counter and resist it by promoting, and
practising love, empathy and compassion: thus establishing a wholesome and sane connection.
Small steps, to be sure, but all any of us can do is start with ourselves, and perhaps, through
example, affect someone else in a positive, wholesome way. Maybe it happens with only one
person at a time - each one teach one - but that’s how it works in life anyway.
Perhaps this is an example of learning to live as described in the ancient teachings: “be in the
world, but not of it”.
Thank you for putting up with my ramblings. Klaas+
Soundtrack: earthmother
| Speaking of that earlier time, Black Elk said, "I did not know then how much was ended. When I look back now from this high hill of my old age, I can still see the butchered women and children lying heaped and scattered all along the crooked gulch, as plain as when I saw them with eyes young. And I can see that something else died there in the bloody mud, and was buried in the blizzard. A people's dream died there. It was a beautiful dream . . . . the nation's hope is broken and scattered. There is no center any longer, and the sacred tree is dead." (Source: Black Elk Speaks, c. 1932) |
"The President in Washington sends word that he wishes to buy our land. But how can you buy or sell the sky
- the land? The idea is strange to us.
If we do not own the freshness of the air and the sparkle of the water, how can you buy them?
Every part of the earth is sacred to my people.
Every shining pine needle, every sandy shore, every mist in the dark woods,
every meadow, every humming insect.
All are holy in the memory and experience of my people.
We know the sap which courses through the trees as we know the blood that courses through our veins.
We are part of the earth and it is part of us.
The perfumed flowers are our sisters.
The bear, the deer, the great eagle; these are our brothers.
The rocky crests, the dew in the meadow, the body heat of the pony,
and man all belong to the same family.
The shining water that moves in the streams and rivers is not just water, but the blood of our ancestors.
If we sell you our land, you must remember that it is sacred.
Each glossy reflection in the clear waters of the lakes tells of events and memories in the life of my people.
The water's murmur is the voice of my father's father.
The rivers are our brothers.
They quench our thirst.
They carry our canoes and feed our children.
So you must give the rivers the kindness that you would give any brother.
If we sell you our land, remember that the air is precious to us; that the air shares its spirit with all the life
that it supports.
The wind that gave our grandfather his first breath also received his last sigh.
The wind also gives our children the spirit of life.
So if we sell our land, you must keep it apart and sacred,
as a place where man can go to taste the wind that is sweetened by the meadow flowers.
Will you teach your children what we have taught our children?
That the earth is our mother?
What befalls the earth befalls all the sons of the earth.
This we know: the earth does not belong to man; man belongs to the earth.
All things are connected like the blood that unites us all.
Man did not weave the web of life; he is merely a strand in it.
Whatever he does to the web, he does to himself.
One thing we know, that the white man may one day discover:
our God is also your God.
The earth is precious to him and to harm the earth
is to heap contempt on its creator.
Your destiny is a mystery to us.
What will happen when the buffalo are all slaughtered?
The wild horses tamed?
What will happen when the secret corners of the forest
are heavy with the scent of many men,
and the view of the ripe hills is blotted with talking wires?
Where will the thicket be? Gone! Where will the eagle be? Gone! And what is to say goodbye to the swift
pony and then hunt? The end of living and the beginning of survival.
When the last red man has vanished with this wilderness,
and his memory is only the shadow of a cloud moving across the prairie,
will these shores and forests still be here?
Will there be any of the spirit of my people left?
We love this earth as a newborn loves its mother's heartbeat.
So, if we sell you our land, love it as we have loved it.
Care for it, as we have cared for it.
Hold in your mind the memory of the land as it is when you receive it.
Preserve the land for all children, and love it, as God loves us.
As we are part of the land, you too are part of the land.
This earth is precious to us. It is also precious to you.
We might understand if we knew what it was the white man dreams,
what hopes he describes to his children on long winter nights,
what visions he burns into their minds; so they will wish for tomorrow.
But we are savages.
The white man's dreams are hidden from us. And because they are hidden, we will go our own way.
If we agree, it will be to secure your reservation you have promised.
There perhaps we may live out our brief days as we wish.
When the last redman has vanished from the earth,
and the memory is only the shadow of a cloud passing over the prairie,
these shores and forests will still hold the spirits of my people,
for they love this earth as the newborn loves its mother's heartbeat.
- the land? The idea is strange to us.
If we do not own the freshness of the air and the sparkle of the water, how can you buy them?
Every part of the earth is sacred to my people.
Every shining pine needle, every sandy shore, every mist in the dark woods,
every meadow, every humming insect.
All are holy in the memory and experience of my people.
We know the sap which courses through the trees as we know the blood that courses through our veins.
We are part of the earth and it is part of us.
The perfumed flowers are our sisters.
The bear, the deer, the great eagle; these are our brothers.
The rocky crests, the dew in the meadow, the body heat of the pony,
and man all belong to the same family.
The shining water that moves in the streams and rivers is not just water, but the blood of our ancestors.
If we sell you our land, you must remember that it is sacred.
Each glossy reflection in the clear waters of the lakes tells of events and memories in the life of my people.
The water's murmur is the voice of my father's father.
The rivers are our brothers.
They quench our thirst.
They carry our canoes and feed our children.
So you must give the rivers the kindness that you would give any brother.
If we sell you our land, remember that the air is precious to us; that the air shares its spirit with all the life
that it supports.
The wind that gave our grandfather his first breath also received his last sigh.
The wind also gives our children the spirit of life.
So if we sell our land, you must keep it apart and sacred,
as a place where man can go to taste the wind that is sweetened by the meadow flowers.
Will you teach your children what we have taught our children?
That the earth is our mother?
What befalls the earth befalls all the sons of the earth.
This we know: the earth does not belong to man; man belongs to the earth.
All things are connected like the blood that unites us all.
Man did not weave the web of life; he is merely a strand in it.
Whatever he does to the web, he does to himself.
One thing we know, that the white man may one day discover:
our God is also your God.
The earth is precious to him and to harm the earth
is to heap contempt on its creator.
Your destiny is a mystery to us.
What will happen when the buffalo are all slaughtered?
The wild horses tamed?
What will happen when the secret corners of the forest
are heavy with the scent of many men,
and the view of the ripe hills is blotted with talking wires?
Where will the thicket be? Gone! Where will the eagle be? Gone! And what is to say goodbye to the swift
pony and then hunt? The end of living and the beginning of survival.
When the last red man has vanished with this wilderness,
and his memory is only the shadow of a cloud moving across the prairie,
will these shores and forests still be here?
Will there be any of the spirit of my people left?
We love this earth as a newborn loves its mother's heartbeat.
So, if we sell you our land, love it as we have loved it.
Care for it, as we have cared for it.
Hold in your mind the memory of the land as it is when you receive it.
Preserve the land for all children, and love it, as God loves us.
As we are part of the land, you too are part of the land.
This earth is precious to us. It is also precious to you.
We might understand if we knew what it was the white man dreams,
what hopes he describes to his children on long winter nights,
what visions he burns into their minds; so they will wish for tomorrow.
But we are savages.
The white man's dreams are hidden from us. And because they are hidden, we will go our own way.
If we agree, it will be to secure your reservation you have promised.
There perhaps we may live out our brief days as we wish.
When the last redman has vanished from the earth,
and the memory is only the shadow of a cloud passing over the prairie,
these shores and forests will still hold the spirits of my people,
for they love this earth as the newborn loves its mother's heartbeat.
If we sell you our land, love it as we have loved it. Care for it as we
have cared for it. Hold in your memory the way the land is as you
take it. And with all your strength, with all your might, and with all
your heart - preserve it for your children, and love it as God loves
us all.
One thing we know - our God is the same.
This earth is precious to him.
Even the white man cannot escape the common destiny.
have cared for it. Hold in your memory the way the land is as you
take it. And with all your strength, with all your might, and with all
your heart - preserve it for your children, and love it as God loves
us all.
One thing we know - our God is the same.
This earth is precious to him.
Even the white man cannot escape the common destiny.
| Chief Seattle's Letter To All THE PEOPLE |
The following letter, sent by Chief Seattle of the
Dwamish Tribe in Washington to President Pierce in
1855, illustrates the dignity, wisdom, and continuing
relevance of this native continental vision.
In this letter he gave the most profound
understanding of The Creator in all Things.
Here is his letter, which should be instilled in the
hearts and minds of every parent and child in all the
Nations of the World:
Dwamish Tribe in Washington to President Pierce in
1855, illustrates the dignity, wisdom, and continuing
relevance of this native continental vision.
In this letter he gave the most profound
understanding of The Creator in all Things.
Here is his letter, which should be instilled in the
hearts and minds of every parent and child in all the
Nations of the World:
MorningStar for people
To submit comments, requests or materials,
contact me at outreach@dawncoveabbey.org
contact me at outreach@dawncoveabbey.org
For empowerment workshops, seminars and lectures, see: http://www.dawncoveabbey.org/healing-circle
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MorningStar Inspiration from Dawn Cove Abbey
Article, haiku, humour and poem contributions are welcomed, and gratefully received
Layout & Design by DawnStar
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MorningStar Inspiration from Dawn Cove Abbey
Article, haiku, humour and poem contributions are welcomed, and gratefully received
Layout & Design by DawnStar
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