SECTION TWO: From Soul & Heart

Public Domain Illustration - Pixabay.com

You have noticed that everything an Indian does is in a circle, and that is because the Power of the World always works in circles, and everything tries to be round.  

In the old days when we were a strong and happy people, all our power came to us from the sacred hoop of the nation, and so long as the hoop was unbroken, the people flourished. 

The flowering tree was the living center of the hoop, and the circle of the four quarters nourished it. 

The east gave peace and light, the south gave warmth, the west gave rain, and the north with its cold and mighty wind gave strength and endurance.

This knowledge came to us from the outer world with our religion. 

Everything the Power of the World does is done in a circle. 

The sky is round, and I have heard that the earth is round like a ball, and so are all the stars. 

The wind, in its greatest power, whirls. 

Birds make their nests in circles, for theirs is the same religion as ours. 

The sun comes forth and goes down again in a circle. 

The moon does the same, and both are round. 

Even the seasons form a great circle in their changing, and always come back again to where they were. 

The life of a man is a circle from childhood to childhood, and so it is in everything where power moves. 

Our teepees were round like the nests of birds, and these were always set in a circle, the nation's hoop, a nest of many nests, where the Great Spirit meant for us to hatch our children. -Black Elk, Holy Man of the Oglala Sioux (1863-1950) 

Over a hundred years ago Black Elk had a vision of the time when Indian people would heal from the devastating effects of European migration. In his vision the Sacred Hoop which had been broken, would be mended in seven generations. The children born into this decade will be the seventh generation.

http://www.legendsofamerica.com/na-proverbs.htmlhttp://www.quoteland.com/author/American-Indian-Proverb-Quotes/ 

And so do not forget . . .every dawn, as it comes, is a holy event; and every day is holy, for the light comes from Wakan-Tanka, and you must also remember that the two-leggeds and all other peoples who stand upon this Earth are sacred and should be treated as such.  -Black Elk Quoting White Buffalo Womanhttp://www.inspirationforthespirit.com/native-american-wisdom/http://www.legendsofamerica.com/na-proverbs2.htmlhttp://www.quoteland.com/topic/Proverbial-Wisdom-Quotes/352/ 

Illustration by Goutham Ganesh Sivanandam (unsplash.com)

1st Nation – Tribe Unknown  - The Red Road

Long road winding began in the stars, spilled onto the mountain tops, was carried in the snow to the streams, to the rivers, to the oceans. It covers Canada, Alaska, America, Mexico to Guatemala and keeps winding around the indigenous.  The Red Road is a circle of people standing hand in hand, people in this world, people between people in the Spirit world. Star people, animal people, stone people, river people, tree people – the Sacred Hoop. 

To walk the Red Road is to know sacrifice, suffering. It is to understand humility it is the ability to stand naked before GOD in all things for your wrongdoings.

For your lack of strength, for your uncompassionate way, for your arrogance - because to walk the Red Road, you always know you can do better.

And you know when you do good things, it is through THE CREATOR and you are grateful. To walk the Red Road is to know you stand on equal ground with all things. It is to know that because you were born human, it gives you superiority over nothing. It is to know that every creation carries a Spirit, and the river knows more than you do, the mountains know more than you do, the stone people know more than you do, the trees know more than you do, the wind is wiser than you are, and animal people carry wisdom.    

You can learn from every one of them, because they have something that you don’t. They are void of evil thoughts. They wish vengeance on no one, they seek justice. To walk the Red Road, you have GOD given rights. You have the right to pray, you have the right to dance, you have the right to think, you have the right to protect, you have the right to know Mother, you have the right to dream, you have the right to vision, you have the right to teach, you have the right to learn, you have the right to grieve, you have the right to happiness, you have the right to fix the wrongs, you have the right to truth, you have the right to the Spirit World.

To walk the Red Road is to know your Ancestors. It is to call them for assistance. It is to know that there is good medicine and there is bad medicine. It is to know that evil exists but is cowardly as it is often in disguise. It is to know that there are evil spirits who are in constant watch, for a way to gain strength for themselves at the expense of you.

To walk the Red Road, you have less of a fear of being wrong, because you know life is a journey, a continuous circle, a sacred hoop. Mistakes will be made and mistakes can be corrected if you will be humble. For if you cannot be humble, you will never know when you have made a mistake. If you walk the Red Road, you know that every sorrow leads to better understanding, that every horror cannot be explained, but it can offer growth.

To walk the Red Road is to look for beauty in all things. To walk the Red Road is to know that you will one day cross to the Spirit World and you will not be afraid. -unknown http://blackhawkproductions.com/poetrynative.htm 

Illustration by Patrick Hendry, Park City, Utah (unsplash.com)

Bison Shadows 

by Chaplain Michael L. Benedict

> I Hear Them Calling

As from beyond the shadows – I hear my people call to me. They tell me their story, a story much like unto a circle, without beginning or end. I listen with my heart. I understand that I am counted among them. My voice unites with theirs, calling to those who have yet to come –  ‘hear us, follow us, join us, that we may be, ever as one’.

I hear The Bison that wander upon the plains, their hooves as thunder as they run upon the grasslands. They are unconquered for their heart is untamed.
Theirs is a freedom of spirit, are one with another and with the Creation of which they are a part. They take of their need from the grasslands that lay before them – taking no more than what is necessary, remaining at peace. Driven from their lands, their numbers decline as their peace is muted by the cry of death. The thunder of their hooves gives way to their demise as they are picked off, by one, by the hundreds and by the thousands, until only a remnant remains.

The Bison Of The Prairie are a witness of all that has been and of all that may be. Their voices are not silent, for they speak to my heart. My spirit unites with theirs. My heart is as of the bison – strong, unconquered and submissive to the will of THE CREATOR.

> I Hear Them Calling - The Voices Of The First Nation

As from beyond the shadows – I hear my people call to me. They tell me their story, a story much like unto a circle, without beginning or end. I listen with my heart. I understand that I am counted among them. My voice unites with theirs, calling to those who have yet to come – ‘hear us, follow us, join us, that we may be, ever as one’.

I hear the voice of The First Nation, who share the prairie with The Bison that wander with them upon the plains. They too, live upon the grasslands and prairies. Theirs is a freedom of spirit and peacefulness of heart, for they are one with another and with the creation of which they are a part. They take of their necessities for existence and survival from the grasslands that lay before them. They take no more than what is needed. Driven from their lands, their numbers decline as their peace is muted by the cry of death. Like the thunder of The Bison hooves, their solace gives way to their demise as they are picked off, one by one, by the hundreds and by the thousands until only a remnant remain. Many are driven to walk upon a Trail of Tears through the orders of an American President. The richness of the land upon which they had lived, is coveted and taken from them. Their trail takes them toward an unfamiliar land, where they are forced to adapt to a new way of life. The homeland of many others is also taken, through countless battles with those who have been sent by another  American President. Survivors of the conflicts are forced to sign false treaties which will force them to live on so-called reservations.

As their peaceful way of life is taken from them, many turn to the Fire Water as an escape from the harsh reality that has been forced upon them. They too are brought to wander upon their own trail of tears, as they recall the peace of days gone by, which has been taken from them. Countless Children of The Tribes are taken from their homes and families, to be placed in boarding schools, where they are forced to learn new traditions that are as foreign as the settings in which they have been placed. Still, The People and Children of The First Nation (who have walked upon their Trail of Tears), remain as  witnesses of all that has been and of all that may be. They have been given a vision from one of their Elders that the dignity of their traditions and pride as a people will be restored in the 7th generation that will come upon them.  Their voices are not silent, for it is from the prairies, reservations and boarding schools, that their voices speak to my heart. I watch their dancing, I hear their singing, I listen to their stories - all of which have been preserved and passed on through the generations.  My spirit unites with theirs. My heart becomes as that of The First Nation – a freedom of spirit and peacefulness of heart. For they truly are My People.  

Illustration - Jonathan Mast (unsplash.com) 

Bison Shadows 

by Chaplain Michael L. Benedict

I Hear Them Calling - The Voices Of The Pioneers 

As from beyond the shadows – I hear my people call to me. They tell me their story, a story much like unto a circle, without beginning or end. I listen with my heart. I understand that I am counted among them. My voice unites with theirs, calling to those who have yet to come – ‘hear us, follow us, join us, that we may be, ever as one’.

I hear the voice of the pioneers who cross a prairie first inhabited by The Bison and by The People of The First Nation, a people who also wandered upon the plains, in search of a place to call their home. Though their hearts are bruised, their spirits remain undaunted. Their lives are as those of the People of The1st Nation – they also look for a renewal of spirit and hope. Many who claim a portion of the prairies seek to do so through a so-called Manifest Destiny, which is often in conflict with the harmony The First Nation, The Bison and with Creation.  

Like those of The Tribes which have been scattered, many of The Pioneers have also been driven from their once familiar and beloved homes. Others have come to find a new and peaceful way of life. The spirit of those with a sincere desire to live in peace, remains unconquered. Their hearts are of adventure, and a sought freedom of destiny. They come to learn that all are one with each other.

Most come upon the prairie, as not to know that their footsteps are not the first. Their numbers increase as the peace of The Bison and The First Nation becomes muted by the thunder of the locomotive, and the wagon wheel as it turns itself upon the grassland. Their frontier is erected in the face of the harshness of the elements to which The Bison and First Nation People gave respect long before.  

They continue onward, one by one, by the hundreds and by the thousands. The new occupants of the prairie become witnesses to its harshness. Those who seek to live in peace look to learn of the ways, customs and traditions of The First Nation. To this day, their spirit of adventure speaks to all that has been and of all that may be. Their voices are not silent, for they speak to my heart. My spirit unites with theirs. My spirit unites with theirs. My heart becomes as that of The Pioneer – a freedom of spirit and peacefulness of heart. For they truly are My People.

Illustration - Anchor Lee  San Mateo, CA  (unsplash.com) 

Bison Shadows 

by Chaplain Michael L. Benedict

 I Hear Them Calling - The Voices Of Those In Despair

As from beyond the shadows – I hear my people call to me. They tell me their story, a story much like unto a circle, without beginning or end. I listen with my heart. I understand that I am counted among them. My voice unites with theirs, calling to those who have yet to come – ‘hear us, follow us, join us, that we may be, ever as one’. I hear the voice of the mentally ill and the addicted who wander the streets of the city and the corridors of the hospitals, treatment centers and rescue missions.  Their desire and longing is like unto the heart and spirit of The Bison which once crossed the prairie – being one with THE CREATOR, to emerge from the shadow of despair.   Their lives are as those of the People of The1st Nation People – they look for a renewal of spirit and hope. They search for more than mere survival. Though their hearts are bruised, their spirits remain, awaiting a simple assurance that they have not been forgotten and that they are of worth. For a moment, they live conquered by their fate and choices, for their searching has taken them on to strange roads. There remains within their hearts, a sought freedom of destiny, that they may come to learn that they all are one with each other.    Some have been driven from their homes. Others have left their homes out of a choice that is too often tragic . Many wander upon the streets as though not to know that their footsteps will lead them away from the light of hope. The tragedy of their numbers increase, much as the peace of The Bison and The First Nation People becomes muted by the sentence that is pronounced upon them by a society, that often judges them with no compassion and sentences them with no charity. Still, they continue onward, one by one, by the hundreds and by the thousands – seeking reassurance and validation. They ask for so little – a listening ear, an outstretched hand an assurance that they are of worth to their fellowman. The harshness of their reality is often found as they stand at the corner of a busy intersection, with an upheld sign made from cardboard with a written plea for assistance. Others, so many, too many are found sleeping at a bus stop or under a freeway over pass, their personal belonging often piled in a stolen grocery cart. Extremes of circumstance and climate take their spirits and bring them to the threshold of death as their bodies are found either under some tree or bench at a local park, with a drug syringe at their side.  Still, their voices are not silent, for they speak to my heart.  

Illustration -  Yannick Menard,  Montreal, Canada  (unsplash.com)

Bison Shadows 

by Chaplain Michael L. Benedict

 I Hear Them Calling - All Are as One

As from beyond the shadows – I hear my people call to me. They tell me their story, a story much like unto a circle, without beginning or end. I listen with my heart. I understand that I am counted among them. My voice unites with theirs, calling to those who have yet to come – ‘hear us, follow us, join us, that we may be, ever as one’.I am one with My People of The First Nation with My Pioneer Ancestors and with those who fight the battle of Addiction, Mental Illness and Homelessness. I hear their voices. They now hear mine.  For we are joined together in a circle, unending and unbroken. From across the prairie, from across the inner city, from throughout the treatment wards - our hearts and voices unite, calling to one another, and to those who have yet to hear us and a posterity which has yet to come – ‘hear us, follow us, join us, that we may be, ever as one’.

Illustration  by  Marco Meyer (unsplash.com)

Stepping Away From A Strange And Unfamiliar Road

by Chaplain Michael L. Benedict 

From time to time, each of us may feel as if we, or someone for whom we care have wandered upon a ‘strange road’. It is at such times that isolation may overcome the warmth and light which was once familiar. Travel down these roads may continue, but with knowledge of which way to turn having given way to uncertainty. Such a downward road may seem to become a permanent route. Often, loved ones – including family and friends, may choose to travel down that ‘strange road’, paying little attention or being unaware of the consequences. Any of us, at any time, may become blinded through a combination of choice as well as circumstance.

There are also those who have been left behind – who continue to plead for the safe return of their loved one before they become totally engulfed in a ‘mist of darkness’. Just as the healing power of love is constant and unconditional, so must love be for those who have become seemingly lost along the way. Just as we must never give up on them or upon one another, we must never give up on ourselves. Embarking upon The Spiritual Journey is to leave those ‘strange roads’ and the ‘mist of darkness’ behind us.

How does one begin to help another person who may have become lost? Perhaps by simply remaining ever near their side, allowing them a glimpse of unconditional love. Though once shrouded in a mist of darkness, the one who suffers may feel the warmth of hope upon them, looking from beyond the darkness of despair while emerging into its light – all because we were there to walk at their side. Could we offer anything to those we love, than to remain, though the long hours ahead may be painful? 

For one who walks within the shadows of a mental illness or an addiction may feel as though they have become ensnared in a terrifying trap which has left them to feel as they have been left deserted and alone. It is in the midst of such horrible hours – when pain is at its deepest and when one’s perception of reality might be at its worst, that such a glimmer of hope overpowers the darkness. 

As we find that source of light for ourselves, we may bring it into the lives of those who are seeking to find their way. We may hold it as a beacon when one storm tattered soul seeks to emerge from the shadows. No matter how deep the darkness, there is a light that shows the way. No matter how heavy the despair, there is a hand that makes light the load. No matter how desperate the pain, there is a balm that soothes the wound. No matter how painful the hour, there is a truth that soothes the bitterness of moments past.

Illustration by  Ugne Vasyliute (unsplash.com)

Stepping Away From A Strange And Unfamiliar Road

by Chaplain Michael L. Benedict 

This project started out as a collection of resources for clinical support groups and pastoral counseling at an inpatient treatment facility for mental health and chemical dependency. Many of perspectives are also based upon insights that have been shared by the aged in nursing homes, retirement communities and senior citizen centers. Those who participated in these Spirituality Groups came from various walks of life, their circumstances as individual as their struggles. Yet they recognized the importance for Reassurance of Individual Value, which united them in a common bond.

They expressed their Recognition of the importance of having a Spiritual Center, upon which all aspects of Mental Health Treatment and Addiction Recovery (sometimes referred to as ‘dual diagnosis’) can be anchored, much like the aspects of day-to-day living. When asked to express what it means to have a Spiritual Center, they spoke about the importance of Recognizing Individual Value as a way to pursue a fulfilling and meaningful life. They also spoke about the need for a Higher Power or Guiding Presence. Having a strong Spiritual Center might be compared to the rings of a mighty tree. The health and strength of the tree is influenced by its source of nourishment, even from its time as a ‘start-up’. For instance, were we to look at the very center of the tree, we would see that the rings are close together. As the inner rings spread outward, the tree becomes taller, larger and stronger. As we to look closer at the inner rings, we learn the age of the tree as well as the stages of its growth. The further apart the rings are from the center, the further apart the rings are from one another. The branches of the tree extend outward as well as upward for sunshine. Its roots extend downward in proportion to the expanding of the rings and reaching branches.

There is also a relationship between the height of the branches above and the depth of the roots beneath. The branches extend upward and outward in direct proportion to the depth of the unseen roots. This is sometimes called ‘the drip-line’. The nutrition that the tree receives through its roots and branches combine to influence the growth of the tree and its ability to endure. Once again, each branch and root reaches upward & outward, for the majestic forest is a community of trees that are united in claiming their place upon the landscape.

All that is there among its branches: the birds that sing; the squirrel that It is through such a union that The Spiritual Journey leads toward a place called KIVA – a place to discover the mighty tree that lies within. Finding KIVA brings about a private assurance that all who travel they have a unique purpose and that they have been given capabilities which have no limitation. Finding KIVA is also knowing a Guiding Presence gently guides the soul out from the shadows of sadness and the depths of despair into the light and toward the summit where the spirit and soul finds renewal. Choice, culture, religious beliefs, family of origin, personal experience, attitudes and relationships influence our Seeking & Accepting The Influence Of A Guiding Presence On The Spiritual Journey.

Illustration by Leo Visions, Sacramento, California (unsplash.com)

Stepping Away From A Strange And Unfamiliar Road

by Chaplain Michael L. Benedict 

Spirituality is not looked upon in the same way as blood pressure or sugar levels. But its influence is felt in terms of Positive Self Image, Positive Relationships and Positive Choices that affect the way we feel about ourselves and the way we interact with other persons. These influences have ‘positive outcomes’ on each aspect of Treatment and Recovery. Like the center of each tree, Spirituality is at the very center of Treatment and Recovery. The purpose of this Reflective Journal is to provide an opportunity for Personal Reflection upon a journey which is deeply personal as well as it is challenging.  KIVA is a concept that originated in the tradition of the Pueblo Indian. Anciently,  its purpose was to provide a sacred place for ceremony and renewal with the Great Spirit. This symbolism crosses all cultures and traditions, for all who begin The Spiritual Journey. All search for their KIVA, which includes a quest for a Reassurance of Individual Value. Sometimes, as adversity descends, one may lose sight of their value as a beautiful human being with endless opportunities to explore new horizons and endless summits. Arrival at these summits and horizons bring about deeper understanding of what KIVA may truly mean. It will become an opportunity to reflect upon: the places to go for quiet reflection; what gives a sense of self acceptance; things to do or experience a sense of calm and peace; what it means to experience renewal.

Illustration (unsplash.com)

1st Nation - Pawnee - Eagle Prayer

Oh Eagle, come with wings outspread in sunny skies. Oh Eagle, come and bring us peace, thy gentle peace. Oh Eagle, come and give new life to us who pray. Remember the circle of the sky, the stars, and the brown eagle, the great life of the Sun, the young within the nest. Remember the sacredness of things. http://www.worldhealingprayers.com  

Illustration (unsplash.com)

Monarch Of The Sky by Chaplain Michael L. Benedict

>Prologue 

Oh if I could soar like an eagle. To spread out my wings and be carried by the wind. To pass through the clouds without closing an eye. To hear the wind whisper in my ears.  

>Overture

Darting beams pierce golden skies. Heaven's curtains now divide. All creation which had slept, while nature's rhythm silence kept, now awakens in majesty, herald anthems raised to sing. Joyful echoes rise in praise, Monarch's flight now is made. Spreading wings brush canyon wall, gazing eyes look down on all. Creation speaks as to invite, His spirit swells in reply.

From nest of night, Monarch leaps, begins his flight. Noble tapestry he weaves, in skillful pattern as he wings. Golden red rays of the dawn, call to him from far beyond. In an instant he defies, bordered limits of the sky. Climbing threads of woven silk, with a destiny to fill. Spiral, fearless soon will rise, beckon calls are amplified.  

Raising grace with majesty, fills the sky with dignity. Nature singing far below, nature's chorus louder grows. Moment of The Monarch's flight, nature's praises raise on high. A grand tapestry he weaves, above bending grass and golden leaves. Rising sun of dawn appears, breezes whisper in his ears. Rivers currents, carving deep, canyon contours far beneath.

Waving branches of the trees, stroke the sky to melody which is led in dignity, by the Monarch's majesty. Monarch mixing, blending hues, pastels on a canvass blue. Scarlet blends with crimson red, cotton clouds loom overhead. Brushing, splendor lays, a panorama portrait made. Forest floor stretched at his feet, shadows of his flight are seen. For a moment, all is still, time stands frozen at his will.  

Gold horizon now is crossed, shattered as his wings are locked. Time and nature both defied, in precision as he flies. Monarch's patterns are now displayed, against the curtain GOD has made. Darting, now, he dwarfs the clouds, mocking lightning, rain about. He has known this sky before, clouds will empty, be no more. Wings still stretched, to all he leaves, secrets of his majesty.

Illustration (unsplash.com)

Monarch Of The Sky by Chaplain Michael L. Benedict

Storms of fury soon will pass, inner strength shall always last. With the strength of inner will, Monarch's course climbs higher still. Silent witnesses far below, glory in what they behold. Motion conquers, parts the clouds, climbing upward, shedding doubt. Earthbound triumph too will rise, with the grace of one who flies. 

 
Never ending flight it seems, Monarch in search of his dreams. Wide horizons will always be gracing his nobility. Waiting, calling, testing still, beckoning his inner will. Climbing, diving, soaring high, a grand summit he will find. Ever upward, moving on, through the clouds that part at dawn. Crescent waves of wind are guides, to the course that Monarch flies.

Lifting on the gentle breeze, he looks upon the stirring leaves. At setting of the sun, dusk arrives  at eventide. Cradled in the branch of night, safe to rest until dawn’s new light. Hour of resting now he takes in a higher, grander place. Nature's herald too will rise, on the wings of he who flies. Not the nest of early morn, new horizons have been born.  

Morning flight will soon commence, on in grace and eloquence. Toward horizons once known before and contours of familiar shores, Monarch Of The Sky again will reign, an endless summit to proclaim. It is not his to soar alone, for he is lifted toward a celestial home. Onward, upward, with wings again in precision and grace, The Monarch  Of The Sky again will climb. Then downward, outward, shrill call is heard. The image call of destiny proclaims. The Monarch Of The Sky now ascends to part The Veil Of Heaven again.  

>Epilogue 

I am an eagle. I spread out the wings of my heart and am lifted by the voice of The  Great Father. HE touches my heart. I hold my head up high. I face the storm and rise a conqueror. An eagle. I am an eagle. But more, I am a Child Of My Creator who raises and exalts me as to become...The Monarch Of The Sky.