Animals, and Other People
LOST IN A FOG
Many years ago, I went hunting in the mountains here in South-central Montana. I had been out for three days, with nothing to show for it. After Sunrise on the fourth day, tired and VERY hungry, I decided to head home. I poked my head out from my nice warm sleeping bag, ready to head back to my pickup, and suddenly realized that I did not know how to get back where I had parked. I did not know where I was. I was invisible, surrounded and swallowed up by a cold, deep, thick, heavy fog that had settled in overnight. I felt smothered.
I was lost. (Yes, Indians can, and do, get lost.)
“I don’t get lost,” I said to myself. “I NEVER get lost!” And my self answered, “Well, you are now.”
My first instinct was, of course, to panic – so I did (not a pretty picture). I didn’t know what to do. The fog had no movement in it – it was there to stay.
Once I took a few deep breaths and calmed down, I did the one thing that I DO know how to do. I asked for help. I pulled out my Asema (Tobacco), offered it to the Four Directions, to the Earth, to ALL Our Relatives, and finally, to Creator – and then closed my eyes and squinted down real hard and prayed for help. (Indians believe that if you squint down just really hard when you pray, that your prayers carry more of an essence of urgency, need, and importance. Okay, well, THIS Indian believes that, anyway.)
I sat down and waited for the help that I knew would come.
I sat some more. Waiting.
Ready.
Any time now.
Annnnd… Nothing.
Then, something happened! The fog lifted, as if by the benevolent gesture of some great, loving hand! And then! It dropped right back down, drew in close around me, and wrapped me up in another suffocating, chilly embrace.
I felt as though I was never gonna get out of there. Me and the fog were one. I WAS the fog, and the fog was me. I couldn’t see five feet in front of me.
I was about to reach for my Asema again (and try squinting down even harder) when I was startled to hear a flapping of wings behind me. Turning my foggy head to look, there I saw a small person, perched lightly atop a tall Yucca stalk, cocking his head and looking at me with tiny, black, wondering eyes.
The Voice by John Potter, 2019
I smiled, gratefully, because I knew this person. This was someone I had shared much time with on a previous outing in these same Mountains. We had come to know each other well during those few days, and had even exchanged gifts. He smiled too, then flew directly at me, and past me, only to light on top of a Sagebrush, where he turned his head and looked at me again, just barely visible in the fog. I got up and gathered my few things and walked toward him. As I approached, he flew off and landed on another Sagebrush.
I followed.
He took off, landing again, looking at me with those shiny black beads of eyes, always only far enough away so that he wouldn’t completely disappear in the shroud, and taking wing again as I neared.
Repeat.
This went on for who knows how long (time really becomes warped, irrelevant, and meaningless when you’re following a Winged Person in the fog). Then, at one point, he flew off - and disappeared in the thick, grey air. My first instinct was to panic – so I did – but then I gathered myself and just walked in the direction that he had flown.
When I didn’t see him right away, I decided maybe I’ll panic again – but then I heard him. I heard him sing that sweet, clear, bright, Sunny-sky song that I love so much. I followed, drawn by and to the song, each note clearing a way through the tangle of Sage and downfall, through the fog, until, there before me, the dark outlines of my beat-up ol’ Ford pickup materialized in the grey, with my little friend perched on the driver’s side rear-view mirror, smiling.
Okay, I made up that last part. He wasn’t REALLY perched on the mirror (but it would’ve been really cool if he was, wouldn’t it?!). He was actually on another Sagebrush, nearby. But he WAS smiling! And so was I.
I reached in my pocket for my Asema, sat down on the cool, moist Earth and prayed – squinting down just hard – in gratitude.
NO WORDS
Looking back on this, and many other similar episodes in my life, reminds me of just how often I have sought out, asked for, and received help, guidance, solace, strength, nourishment, teaching, nurturance, wisdom, understanding, healing, forgiveness, companionship, friendship, fulfillment, harmony, balance – LOVE – from other People.
And not just ANY People.
You see, among our Ojibwe People, there are (to the best of my knowledge, anyway) NO WORDS that equate to the word “Animals” in English. The word we DO have, literally translated, means “OTHER PEOPLE.” The “Bird” who helped me find my way back to my vehicle was a person in a bird suit. A friend, with whom I had established a relationship, a bond, during my earlier outing in the Mountains.
I am often asked (by two-legged People) about the traditional Native relationship with the Natural World, and specifically, with “Animals.” Some two-leggeds, upon hearing from someone else that “John has a relationship with Animals,” will ask me, “Is it because you’re Indian?”
Having a relationship with Animals, or with ANYONE, happens only if you’re OPEN to it. And being “open’ is hard for most (two-legged) People. Being “open” involves letting go of the “SELF,” and dropping one’s ego and preconceived notions – and the cell phone – at the door. It involves LISTENING, instead of talking. And I mean LISTENING with your HEART, rather than your EARS.
Other People that are my neighbors
THE NATIVE DR. DOOLITTLE?
No, I am not.
But yes, I DO talk to Animals. I also talk to Trees. And I talk to Birds, Bugs, Stones, Stars, Rivers, Lakes, Mountains, Clouds, Fish, and to my aching joints. You get the picture. But I don’t overwhelm the “People” that I’m talking to with my own voice and ideas and agendas. I talk quietly, from the Heart, in Ojibwe (my command of the language is still very limited, though), and mostly just ask how they’re doing.
Sometimes I’ll ask other things (that’s between me and them!), and then, I SHUT UP. And listen.
See, when I was a kid, I never really felt comfortable at home, even (well, especially) around my own family. I was “different.” I never felt comfortable around (two-legged) People. While most other kids were off playing Cowboys and Indians, or “Army,” I would spend most of my time “alone” in the Woods, wandering the Hills, sitting by the Lakes and Rivers, lying on my back on the warm Earth or in the fresh snow, looking skyward (later, I came to realize that I was actually looking “inward” as well, back in those days).
Hours turned into days, days into weeks, weeks into months and years spent “alone” in the Natural World. Sitting. Listening. Watching.
The longer I sat, listening, being still, the more comfortable I became with being “alone.” But I was never alone (or without a sketchbook!). There were ALWAYS “Other People” around – and the more time I spent among them, being still, listening, being OPEN – the more comfortable they became with me.
And then, the more I came to recognize them, each of them, as Individuals, Personalities, Characters – each of them unique, complex, multi-faceted. Sometimes hungry, sometimes playful, sad, friendly -- or not so much. Introspective, outgoing, inquisitive, bored, thoughtful, contemplative, SMART. And all of them so much like – PEOPLE.
But “different.”
To this day, some of my family will jokingly say that I was raised by Wolves. I should be so lucky. And to this day, I am increasingly more comfortable around Other People than I am around People.
“INDIANS” and “OTHER PEOPLE”
Short version of our Creation story: Our People are made out of mud.
Sky Woman, taking the mud of the new-made Turtle Island (which SHE had just Created – also known in some circles as “North America”) in her hands, formed a pair of two-legged and two-armed figures. Breathing Life into them, She named them Anishinaabeg – “Spontaneous” or “First” Human. We Ojibwe commonly, perhaps ethnocentrically, use the term “First People” when describing ourselves. (Many other Tribes/Nations do so as well).
But we were not, and we are not, the First People.
According to the story, there were OTHER PEOPLE there, watching, as Sky Woman breathed, and shared, her LIFE into the First Humans. There were Animals and Birds, Sun and Moon, Clouds and Stars, Rocks and Trees -- and some of these PEOPLE were probably thinking, “Well, there goes the neighborhood.”
Traditional Ojibwe understood this (and still do) – that the OTHER PEOPLE were here before us (and we knew this without the benefit of archaeological record. We knew that we were “late-comers” on the scene).
SIGN, SIGN, EVERYWHERE A SIGN
To express the idea of “Ojibwe Indians” in Native sign language, you make the sign for “Trees” and then for “People.”
I always felt honored by that. Trees are tall, elegant, stately, and dignified! And while no Tree in the Forest grows perfectly straight, they all make the effort to do so – reaching for the Light. They all make allowances for others, and respect differences; none of them are the same, but they give each other the space to be themselves.
Native People, by and large, looked (and still look) to the Natural World for signs – messages, teachings, examples, intuitions, understandings and guidance, for how to live in balance on this Earth – because we saw and observed (and still do), that all the OTHER PEOPLE already knew how to do so.
So we LISTENED (and still do) to OTHER PEOPLE, instead of going out of our way to impose our own ideas on them -- which is not to say that we never did so. We are, after all, Human, and therefore quite capable of arrogance, ego, and a false sense of dominance – and committing the mistakes inherent in these mindsets.
Spirit of our Nation, Ties That Bind by John Potter, 2018
INDIANS DON’T POINT
But here’s mine; there was no word in our language or collective conscience such as “Animals” to separate ourselves from other creatures in such a way as to diminish their importance or their right to exist and live their lives freely. No word to verbally or consciously put them in a box on a shelf below the one we occupied, to relegate them to a subservient or inferior state, or to lessen their Spiritual qualities, Nature, or Being. No word to render them, or the rest of the Natural World, as a commodity to be “managed,” solely for the benefit and enjoyment (or destruction, slaughter and extinction) of and by the (two-legged) People.
There were (are) Deer People, Bear People, Mouse People, Wolf People, making up the Deer, Bear, Mouse and Wolf Nations. There were (are) Eagle People, Raven People, Owl People, Tree People, Rock People (our Grandfathers), Star People (our Ancestors), Cloud People. The Sun wasn’t (isn’t) just “the Sun” – He was (is) Sun Chief, a powerful individual, with personality and being, bringing forth and watching over Life here on our Good Mother, this Earth.
The “wilderness” (like “Animals,” there was no word in our language to express this concept -- nothing to separate it from what it was, and is, to us: HOME) was a vast community in which we lived with OTHER PEOPLE. Some OTHER PEOPLE fed us and clothed us and gave us things like tools, weapons, and medicines. Some OTHER PEOPLE enjoyed our company – became friends, mentors, teachers and guides. Some helped us, some held us back. Some advocated for us, some wanted nothing to do with us. Some were enemies, some were allies. Some helped us in battle, some gave away our presence in enemy territory. Some gave us songs, came to us in dreams and visions, shared their dreams with us, gave us Ceremonies and then participated in them with us. Some tested us: measured our strength or weakness, our integrity or lack thereof; our Spiritual quality and quantity, or lack thereof. Some had good days to share with us, or bad days because of us. But, at least in my experience, they always LISTEN.
They are, after all, OTHER People.
Just “Different.”
In my experience, at least, OTHER PEOPLE have never judged me (although they HAVE, I think, “sized me up”). They never cared about my income, or lack thereof! They never cared about the clothes I wore (they were probably just grateful that I had clothes ON!), the kind of car I drove or how big my house was. They never cared about my job. Never, certainly, cared about my Race, or “how much Indian” I was, or wasn’t. They never asked, or cared about, or judged me for my political leanings, my gender, my Religious beliefs or my sexual preferences. They never tried to “one-up” me, impress me, interrupt me, put me in my place or force their opinions and agendas on me. They never asked me for money or have taken anything from me. All they’ve ever done is GIVE to me. And all they’ve ever asked from me is to LISTEN.
I BELONG TO THE CLAN
No, not THAT one.
Within a traditional Ojibwe family, the first delineation of kinship was (is) the Dodaem (where the word “Totem” comes from), or Clan. “Waenaesh k’dodaem?” (What is your dodaem, or clan?) is still asked among Ojibwe People.
For me, the answer is “Waubizhaezhii ni dodaem,” or, I am of the (Pine) Marten Clan.
Other Clans include Crane, Bear, Wolf, Lynx, Surgeon, Turtle, and Otter, to name a few. Dodaems, and their members, served particular functions in traditional Ojibwe society: Leadership/diplomacy (Chiefs), Defense (Warriors), Sustenance (hunters/providers), Learning (teachers), Medicine (Healers), etc.
Marriage within the same Dodaem was not allowed (it would be like marrying your cousin. Duh!).
If you are a member of Wolf Clan, for example, it means that you are descended from Wolf. Notice I didn’t say descended from “a Wolf” or “the Wolf.” But from WOLF.
Consider that for a moment.
The broader meaning here is that your blood carries the Ancestral knowledge and wisdom – the intellectual property rights, if you will – of all that Wolf has imparted, one way or another, to your Ancestors. You are not a Wolf because you belong to Wolf Clan – you are, Wolf. (Note: this is not something you can get from a deck of totem cards. I’m sorry.)
By extension, the belief is that you will be recognized as a relative by the Wolf People.
I could go on (and I will), but I only wish to emphasize here that the Clan system was not meant to, and does not, divide People. Rather, the opposite: it speaks to, recognizes, and reinforces the idea of relationship and interrelationship of all living things (because all things ARE alive) on this good Earth of ours.
“Gakina Awiiya,” (or “Mitakuye Oyasin” among our Lakota relatives) – “we are all related.”
WHAT’S THE POINT OF ALL THIS?
Indians don’t point, remember?
The point is that there is no point – only a wish to share something that hopefully may be of value today, or in the days and months to come.
Every day I poke my head out from my nice warm bed, only to look around and not know where I am. I feel invisible; surrounded and swallowed up by the heavy fog of information and misinformation; the weight of decision and indecision; feeling smothered by an insidious mist of deception, falseness, indecency, irreverence, discourtesy, dishonor, and distrust.
A pandemic, if you will, of Spiritual, physical and moral dis-ease.
And the apathy! The world, and society, seems to care so much about gain that it doesn’t see what it has lost. And is still losing.
I feel lost.
My first instinct is to panic – but I will not.
I will keep calm and reach for my Asema, close my eyes and squint down real hard (hey, it worked before), and pray and ask for help – for ALL of us to be guided out of the fog – and to be shown what I may be able to do, to help.
And then, I will shut up. And listen.
Deep in my heart and Spirit I know, that for all the People who DON’T care about what we are losing, or about where we are in the fog of our Hearts, our Minds, our Lives, or our World – there are OTHER PEOPLE that do.
And they are waiting. Listening.
GAKINA AWIIYA
John
