They use her
consume her strength.
Then the people die.”
Marilou Awiakta, When Earth Becomes an “It”
I have a theory about one of the reasons why our world is used so crassly. It’s contained in these words: ‘HUMAN RESOURCES’ and ‘NATURAL RESOURCES’.
A lot of uninhibited destruction has been caused by those words.
“the last wolf hurried toward me
through the ruined city
And I heard his baying echoes
down the steep smashed warrens
of Montgomery Street and past
the few ruby-crowned high-rises
their lighted elevators useless.”
“I heard his voice ascending the hill
and at last his low whine as he came
floor by empty floor to the room
where I sat
in my narrow bed looking west, waiting
I heard him snuffle at the door and
he trotted across the floor
he laid his long gray muzzle
on the spare white spread
and his eyes burned yellow
his small dotted eyebrows quivered
Yes, I said.
I know what they have done.”
Mary TallMountain, The Last Wolf
Gossip about this fella’s life style careened throughout the land. The general consensus was he’d lived a life which wasn’t up to most peoples’ standards. He’d made bad decisions and just look where that got him.
However, they all agreed he was one tough cookie.
There was touching music at his funeral. The minister said nice things about him. Gave us a little sermon and, as usual, I tried my best to make sense of the fractured pieces of theology.
The minister then gave the benediction. The service was over. Except it wasn’t. An Indigenous woman wanted to say a few words.
Her speech was very emotional and without judgement. It was plain that this old hoarder was highly valued by the Indigenous People.
It also reminded me of why I valued my time spent with the Indigenous People. They saw life in a different way. They lived life in a different way. They weren’t judgemental and filled with musterbations. This Indigenous woman reminded me of what I have tried to value in my own life.
Chuck Palahniuk, Invisible Monster
When the road was covered in snow we’d park our vehicles about a half kilometre from the cabin. We’d ski, snowshoe or walk to our vehicles which were often covered with the tongue marks of cows, horses or deer. They loved licking the tasty salt off my truck and Sue’s car.
Previously, I’d lived on a reserve for some time and had to listen to folks tell me how dangerous it was. How they wouldn’t last five minutes on the reserve. And I got advice about what I should be doing to make my life safer, saner, more sanitized and predictable.
But, it’s damn gorgeous here! Got to say that.
"If a man does not keep pace
with his companions,
Perhaps it is because he hears
a different drummer.
Let him step to the music he hears,
However measured or far away."
D. H. Thoreau