There you are my friend,
Now’s a perfect blend,
Of time and space,
Cool wind on my face,
Now it’s all better,
Prepare for Winter.
There you are my friend,
We’re going into the lodge today. I’ll be pouring for us.
One of my friends asked me that he would like a hot one. He wants to suffer; he is a Sundancer. So I prayed for a hot one.
Again today I will let them know that neither I nor anyone else has control of the Rocks, of how hot or cool they will be; the Grandfathers control that. But today I have asked for a hot sweat. I asked because I am a Sundancer.
I understand not all of us are sundancers; but us sundancers who take this journey, we pledge ourselves to the Universe.
Today will be a Sundancer’s common sweat. We ask that it be hot so that we suffer, becasue when we suffer and the more we suffer, it is the less our people will have to suffer. The pain on the world is lessened by what we withstand. The people need us; we go for them; we are Sundancers; we help in any way we can. When it hurts, we are happy. For others it is good. We come to restore balance to the universe and we ask that you few men join us to help the people in this sweat lodge.
So that is what we will do today.
I must prepare,
To go over there,
The people need us,
So we go with no fuss,
For them to be better,
We will suffer,
But we welcome it,
It’s what we do, our commitment
Don’t be scared of it friends,
This is the way it’s been from what i know,
Not always the same it just depends,
The way i was taught is how i show,
Help me to help you help yourself,
They need us more now then ever,
Hear all will gain more then wealth,
Do it this way and remember.
Throug all the years,
There aren’t enough tears,
To be shed,
To clear my head,
Of all the pain and misery,
Upon my friends and family,
Blind they are to there own demise,
While I am stuck to witness,
Why did they let themselves Pop?
What can I do to make it Stop?
I used to fantasize about being taken away by lightning when I was younger. These stories always bring back so many memories.
Andy Thundercloud and Larry Payer and Old Man Whitebeaver and Stanford Whitewater used to tell me these stories when I was little. I remember when, too, but I never knew why.
I always thought these old men were going to discipline me because Mom would tell me to get in the car and that she was dropping me off with Old Man Whitewater, or Old Man Whitebeaver or Choka Larry or Choka Andy, and when she would I would be there all day, at first just playing and wandering; then it would be cool because they always let me drink coffee.
Looking back now it is amusing to me. I always like coffee and not just the taste, but also I thought it made me feel more grown. I remember these stories here and there.
When I was a boy it was extremely difficult to get me to sit down and listen to anyone or anything, but these old men always got my interest and it was always because they would watch me and find the right way to word it.
As a young boy which most young boys are they would get my interest by saying or asking me, “Want to hear how our warriors fought?” or “Do you know your name is very important, and your clan?” or “Here’s one about your clan and this is about one of your relatives.”
I loved it. I would sit down and listen and they would always leave the story unfinished, for me to go out and think on it. As a matter of fact I don’t think we ever finished a story at all. They would tell them in a way that we would go into another one suddenly and the next one was just as interesting if not more.
Usually I had to work for these stories too. I had to chop or haul wood. It always revolved around wood and preparing fire. Or walking long distance to get this or that.
Even in Wisconsin; I remember Konika and Mom dropped me off at this old man’s home and I stayed there with him for awhile and he taught me a lot and had me working a lot too, but the good thing was we ate a lot too. I loved the food. Shoot, we killed, skinned, tanned, and cleaned the food and deer or whatever it was all by ourselves.
I was so happy to always be with the old men because they always let me carry a knife or an axe and use them regularly.
Life is beautiful.
I don’t know who these men are, what they did, or how much time they face or anything about them, for that matter, but I can feel all of the love…but also all the fear and anger, but love outweighs the other.
I look out the window and see these men’s families, wives, children, sisters, brothers, friends standing outside the buliding waving and showing their love and support the only way they can.
It is truly moving how we humans are compassionate people. I would never compare myself to the Creator, nor will I ever, but being here in this building I can see what Mauna sees when looking down. All of it.
Just the other day I watched this little girl about 4 or 5 chasing pigeons, not to harm or scare, but because she wanted to play, and I think she loved the power of them fleeing from her. How her mother and grandmother watched her play, it all is so very touching.
I am glad to be here and witness all of this. There is so much hope here. The people are respectful and just normal everyday people. Sure, they may have lied, killed — but they are still people who are worth loving and praying for. Which I will never stop.
That’s all for now, just my thoughts.