[Back in early February, I started to write this post. It links back to a prior post about the Native American leg of my spiritual journey in this life I’m living. I have thought often about finishing the story, but it was hard to write. I did not navigate events in the way I would have liked to.
If you want to know more about my religious background and my starting place, you can also read about my early experience with Christianity.]
My spiritual search began in my late 20s. I was drawn to Earth-based spirituality, and I knew enough about the practices of those who inhabited this land before us that they honored Earth, Nature, the cycles of the seasons and of the sun and moon, as well as animal and plant spirits. I researched and studied about various tribes for a couple of years.
It turned out that my destination was not to align fully with Native American spirituality, as you will see. However it gifted me with a sacred pipe ceremony. I learned (from the book Return of the Bird Tribes by Ken Carey) this ceremony and a beautiful story of it’s origin in my 30s brought me a way to connect with my deepest self, and to make decisions with an awareness of “All that is.”
This is the part of the story I didn’t share earlier, about how I moved on in my 30s from the Native American chapter of my search …
I shared this sacred practice of the pipe ceremony with friends and family. It was a beautiful way to navigate life and to approach decision-making and sometimes even to speak difficult words or resolve disharmony. Read more about my experience with the pipe and the pipe ceremony here.
Eventually I extended myself to share the pipe ceremony with more people. I arranged with a friend, Steve, who offered a space for classes and small concerts – to offer the pipe story and ceremony there. In the small empty carpeted room I constructed a circle with branches and marked the 4 directions, each person entering at the East, the place of beginnings. We all sat on the floor and I read the story of White Buffalo Calf Woman bringing the pipe to the Soiux …then we smoked the pipe together as the ceremony instructs.
It was lovely. I met a neighbor who I hadn’t known and about 8 or 10 other people showed up. Afterward we talked and then people dispersed.
I had a jar for donations and I raised about $12 that went toward paying my babysitter that evening.
I decided to do it again and Steve advertised in the Hartford newspaper that I would be sharing the pipe ceremony for donations. And the trouble began. A non-native was making money from the sacred tribal traditions.
I knew that people had co-opted native practices, such as sweat lodges and vision quests – and capitalized upon them. I didn’t perceive myself in that light, but I can see from where I now stand that there is a fine line …and who knows where I was going with this?
The descendants of the people my ancestors and their leaders betrayed saw yet another betrayal. People started calling me in concern and anger. Some people were openhearted and listened to my explanation of how I came to share the pipe with others. The pipe-carrier of the Mohegan Nation and I had a very long talk and he was fine with what I was doing.
Some did not want to know what I had to say. Suddenly I was facing anger and threats against my family and my home.
I managed to turn the advertised sharing of the pipe ceremony into a meeting with some tribal leaders in the Hartford area. I was young and did not navigate this meeting well. I was afraid and did not speak when I could have.
Later I realized that I should have led the meeting, explaining my journey to the pipe (as I had with the pipe-carrier). But the threats had frightened me. I sat and waited, disempowered by my fear. I was told that a chief was here. I was made to understand that he was wasting his time. Later I understood what happened, and I have forgiven myself for my lack.
I did not attempt to share the pipe again with others not close to me, although my relationship with the pipe continued for many years after I left Connecticut.
I was looking for a spiritual home, but this did not show up as being a path for me. I did not find a person who would share with me, or invite me to share in Native American spiritual gatherings or experiences. I assumed they were closed to outsiders because of my experience, but I don’t know that it was true. With all that occurred on this continent I would not blame them if it was true. Or maybe I was simply too scared to ask.
I cannot recall who told me that I should turn to my own heritage, but that’s what I did.
Later, a teacher of sacred ways of some earth-based European traditions said to me that we were born on this soil and we live our lives on this soil and some of the voices and elements that speak to us carry Native ways. This helped me to make peace with myself and what had happened with attempting to share my pipe.
I didn’t understand until writing this post, how deeply this experience aligns with and informs my current orientation about tribal ways, the ancient ways that have gifted me with a way to heal and to help others. I am grateful now for my experience with the Mohegan community in CT. And I acknowledge this experience as a part of my path and understanding of the healing.
Since I am living on this continent, I expect that my studies on tribal experience and ways will focus to some degree on the tribes of this land, as well as on the African connections I now have.
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8 hummingbird way 