Summer a season for learning

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Tansi, Ahnee and hello. It's been a long summer. Sometimes it seems that the further along this Earthwalk one gets, the longer the lessons take to learn. Summer. This is the

season of learning. This is the time on the Great Wheel of Life when much is revealed and the searchers find themselves growing, maturing and trusting in the wisdom of the

earth. It's been a long summer.

In the spingtime when this column stopped appearing I had much to learn. This was a time of confusion for me. One of the surprising things about the search for awareness is

that there are many times when the signs become unclear. Times when the mind decides that it knows the proper direction. Times when the soul is left untended and the body

follows yet another twisting, drifting and often painful road. And yet there is learning.

It has to do with gifts. Our people have practiced the idea of the giveaway for generation after generation. Giveaway was the natural process. The buffalo gave away his life so

the people could continue. The tree gave away its life so that the people might have warmth and grow closer and stronger around their tribal fires. The medicine people and

spirit healers gave away their earthly possessions so that they might be granted more spiritual insight to better heal the people.

Giveaway. The natural, process. It's recognition the fact that all things come from the Creator. All things which make up the circle of our lives are gifts. Life itself is nothing less

than a gift.

It's recognition of the fact that we do not own anything. Recognition of the fact that we are merely guardians. Recognition of the fact that the only thing which will survive our

time here is the spirit. All else is trivial.

Each of us were created with special gifts. There is not a single human being anywhere that was not created for a reason. Some of us are dancers and singers. Some of us are

artists and carvers. Some of us are politicians, leaders and spokespeople. Some are husbands and wives, mothers and fathers. And some of us are storytellers.

I'd become dissatisfied with being simply a storyteller. I began to buy into the idea that success is identified by those things which I could afford to surround myself with. I began

to look for ways to use my Creator's gift to me that would bring me more material evidence, more satisfaction, more comfort. I began to wander. And I fell.

There very nature of gifts is giving. I lost that connection. I began to look at this gift of the storyteller as a means of receiving. Tell for money. I ultimately took the responsibility

for my abilities. The lesson I had to learn from all of this was that the moment I take the credit for my successes I automatically become responsible for my failures. There's no

one else to blame.

Giveaway. It took the giveaway of a small brother to bring me back to full realization of my role in the scheme of things. I'd been talking with elders and some friends of the way

and generally well on my way back to balance. Healing. I was at the point of innocence once again and ready to travel.

One morning, during the High River First Nations Cultural Festival in August I was up early. We'd been there living in a teepee for about four days already.

The sun was masked by early fog. The dew was heavy on the long grass and there was a stillness. Walking across the grass back towards the teepees I suddenly got the

feeling that this is what it must have been like a long, long time ago. I was filled with pride in my heritage an my people. I was filled with the awareness of the presence of the

Creator of all things.

I jumped into the van and started to drive down the road. I wanted to see more of this beautiful world I found myself in. Driving along I looked out the windows and once again

realized that I was part of everything that surrounded me. I blonged. I felt that old feeling of connectedness and balance flowing through me.

The giveaway. A small gopher ran across the road ahead of me. Because I was moving at a fast rate of speed I couldn't swerve away and my tiny brother was killed. A part of

me died too. I felt like a close relative had passed beyond. I felt grief and had I known a mourning song I would have sung one right there for the benefit of my tiny brother.

What I was feeling was the spiritual sense of belonging I'd lost for a few months. All my relations. Everything which has life in this universe is my relation. When I respect and

care for all of life I care and respect myself. My little brother's giveaway brought me back.

And some of us are storytellers. It's been a long summer and there has been much learning. This column has always been a means of telling you the stories I have learned or

lived through. A means of touching of our Indian way. A means of making sense of a sometimes confusing modern world by looking through the eyes of our tradition. A means

of giveaway. It's nice to be back.