Why should the very things with invested interest in our lives be most willing to kill us?
There is an aspect of our spiritual realities as Indigenous people that I struggle with. I’ve come to accept it—because it is, after all, undeniably a reality for many of us—but it is still a phenomenon I continue to grapple with. Even as someone who knows more than the average person, it still baffles me.
This notion, this idea, that as a result of one’s “misalignment” with their foundational principles (ancestors, natural (spiritual) elements, traditional ritual practices, and so on) their life is met with the most chaotic sequence of events, leaving them with a bitter taste for life itself. To make matters worse, IGNORANCE IS NO EXCUSE.
That you did not know, or could not have known, these things about your foundation (your spiritual realities) because no one before you taught you, because they too had no idea or were simply naïve about these principles, is still no excuse. That many were nonchalant, or let foreign religions consume them and pull them into new spiritual realities, does not shield you from the hard hand of your own.
It is a terrible thing to need saving, to reach for relief, and to realize that the very things meant to save you are what you now need saving from. This is not a good look on our spiritual systems, but it is our burden to bear as humans on this side of the spectrum.
I also worry that those entrusted with mediating between worlds have been conditioned into doomsayers. Our diviners, our seers, our mystics, the so called custodians of our collective consciousness, bear some blame too. Too often, their revelations default to negativity, framed through the lens of warfare and destruction. This is, in my opinion, a serious problem.
It is not a good look for our worldview.
And yet, this is no simple matter. If it were, I would not feel so burdened by my own life’s experience, or by the very act of thinking it through.
It is complicated because there are nuances that might explain these chaotic exertions of spirit. Generational abandonment of foundational principles cannot go unanswered. At some point, something must give. One generation will inevitably have to pause and reckon with all that abandonment, and that generation is us. But by then, those uncorrupted by foreign influence, the ones who could provide pure clarity and grounding, are gone. All we are left with are elders and mystics repenting from their own wanderings into foreign religions and covenants, fumbling their way back.
But can a lost sheep lead another lost sheep, without dragging it through unnecessary hard paths? This is our dilemma, the price of being born into this season of life, into this phase of civilization. Whether we choose to pay it or not, it remains our price.
As I said earlier, this is not a simple conundrum. If it were, we would not be here, faced with our endlessly refining realities.
Recently, I listened to ruby, someone I’ve come into community with, speak about the anguish of the soul. Their words struck me deeply.
We understand physical pain. We can even measure mental pain. But what of the anguish of the soul? What happens when it is your soul that hurts? How does that pain show up in one’s life? Surely it must manifest with maddening force somewhere.
I believe this is what most of us are facing: the anguish of our collective soul. And as a result, each of us runs helter-skelter, doing the best we can with what we know, tending to the realities in front of us, while struggling to make sense of what we do not understand.
