Evan's Earth Walk

An Author's Journal--Evan Pritchard's open letter to his friends and fans concerning his writings, poetry, music, ideas, conversations, and adventures on the edge of the Native American experience.

Name:
Location: Hudson Valley, New York, United States

I am interested in everyone and everything, and how it all fits together...which used to be normal, now they call me a Renaissance Man. I am the author of Native New Yorkers, and No Word For Time, (both coming into revised paperback in September nationwide) also Native American Stories of the Sacred, Wholehearted Thinking, and many others. To learn more about my non-baseball research log onto www.algonquinculture.org. One of my other blogs is http:/resonancemagazine.blogspot.com; another is http:/peopleofmanitou.blogspot.com

Friday, February 17, 2006

Text to NY Spirit Article in progress

UNTITLED DRAFT TO NY SPIRIT ARTICLE BY WILLIAM MEYERS as of Feb 14th, 2006

Readers: This is an earlier draft of an article posted on this blog on March 9th. It will be published on April 1st in New York Spirit, probably edited yet again. There is alot of interesting details in this version not included in the March 9th version so I will keep this posted here for a while. By the way, the March 9th is very skillfully edited by William Myers, and journalism students can learn alot by comparing the two. The loss of these details is par for the course. On line the length doesn't matter that much, but in print, it matters a great deal.

Are there any thematic resonances in your book -- i.e., Native American culture -- that would correspond to and reinforce James Lovelock's prophecy of environmental doom? Are there any that would counter it with some measure of hope?

These stories were created at a time when the land and the people were one, but already the elders were seeing the signs as to what happens when people treat mother earth with disrespect. There were already prophecies stating that treating the earth poorly would lead to the destruction of mankind, and these stories in the book were intended to help children (and adults) find the right balance between what they wanted and what actions should be avoided in order to prevent this terrible destruction. If we had listened to these stories all along, we wouldn’t be in this position as Lovelock describes today. The stories still exist. I spent a lot of time in the Library of Congress looking for the earliest transcriptions into English of the most popular stories, and most have been easily accessible for over a hundred years, but not enough people listened or understood. What happens next is up to us. Lovelock says we now can only buy time, but in the ancient stories, the animals and supernatural spirit beings (raven) often come to the rescue of the foolish humans at the last minute to bail them out. It is hard to predict what will happen, but global warming will cause crop failure, leading most certainly to war, famine, disease, and pestilence, the four horsemen of Lovelock’s apocalypse. The pestilence is already happening, as new types of infestations and infections such as Lyme’s Disease are spreading due to environmental causes. Perhaps the pestilence itself will be enough to drive us to rethink our position on the Kyoto and other worldwide agreements. In this way, it could be said that “animals” came to our rescue. But if it isn’t enough, the next is disease, such as bird flu, (brought by raven?) then famine, then war with China, and other countries that know full well that 25% of the dioxins that caused the global warming that wiped out their crops came from the United States. The Hopi prophet Massau predicted this possibility 1000 years ago, and said we need to go back to the earth.


When and where were you born, into what kind of milieu and with what ancestral heritages that would explain your devotion to the Native American spiritual path?

My mother is of Native American descent, with a mix of Scottish, and my father is a Celtic scholar, but my mother was always present, and raised us kids from an Algonquin perspective. My childhood was in the Washington, D.C. area, not such a bad place to grow up during the Kennedy administration, but an area short on Native awareness. When I was fourteen I was left with my great aunt Helen, an outspoken Mi’kmaq activist, and ended up spending part of my summers with her on her animal farm, where she raised and used herbs to heal people of the community for free. She was quite the environmentalist and back in the 60s was always recycling everything that moved, and went on TV and radio talking about the environment and I was a part of that. There were two consecutive articles about her in Reader’s Digest in the 1980s. She also painted great landscapes in oil, very original, and some are still in museums in Maine. She often told stories of her father William Mewer, a champion of the Natives of Maine at the turn of the century, a mystic and community builder whom I apparently reminded her of . Later, after her death I learned that we were also equally Wampanoag, and descendants of King Phillip, Metacomet, and therefore also of Witamu, Wamsutta, Passaconaway, and Wannalancet, that great family of Algonquin leaders. I played Wamsutta in an off-Broadway musical Queen of New England, by Phoebe Legere, the romantic lead as it were, with Phoebe’s lyrics inspired by my own book No Word For Time. I really enjoyed that experience. I like to think of myself as the Aunt Helen of New York City, but in fact, I don’t have a tenth of her knowledge.


"Native American Stories of the Sacred." What exactly is "sacred" for the native American? Isn't all life? Isn't the whole manifestation? Perhaps the question is, what is not?

In my use of this word sacred, I refer to that which is eternal, that which is beyond human improvement, that which should not be changed. I chose stories that were not sacred stories per se, not to be interpreted or changed, but those that referred to the sacred, everyday fun stories. However, the Algonquin elders say that everywhere you stand is sacred, and every day is sacred, in fact, that all life is sacred, and I also believe this, and feel that everything that lives has a place in the hoop of life.

Nature is sacred in a different way; not exactly eternal, not exactly beyond human improvement. Part of our purpose is to interact with nature, to be a part of it, to “comb the mother’s hair” by collecting fallen branches for our hearth fires, to collect acorns, and to keep the deer and beaver population in balance. However we are not to dig out or remove whole sections of the earth, or destroy any species of local plant or animal. All holes should be refilled eventually, even subway holes, in the long run.

Human life is sacred in a third way. Its sacredness lies in the four gifts which are always changing and growing; our name, which tells us of our mission in life, (of which we are always learning more) our free will, (which changes expression every day) our language, (which we should be free to use creatively) and our peace of heart and mind, (which we must re-win every day.)

These three levels of sacredness to “the way” can also be found in the descriptions of the Tao and of Dharma, and of the Islamic Shari’a; there is the way of the eternal, aka the Way of Heaven. There is the way of Nature, aka the Pure Land, and thirdly the Way that Humankind Should Live. All three are sacred in different ways.

When you speak of the Red Road teachings -- or the Native American spiritual philosophy -- and equate it with the Mi'kmaq "way of truth," the Cherokee "way of good," the Navajo "beauty way," and beyond the native American culture, The Way of the Tao, the Buddhist "dharma," the Islamic "Shari'a," along with many other examples from world cultures, what is the thematic thread that you see running through all of them? What are the essential characteristics of this universal Way that all its variants have in common?
(See and combine with above)

What role does storytelling play in the native American spiritual life? (I know you go into that in depth in the book, but a capsule summary would be good to have here.)
Stories are the essence of mythopoetics, which is the essence of culture. The history of the human race is nothing more than a story told to a child. Stories must have conflicts between characters, good and evil must be addressed in some way, ignorance and knowledge, innocence and experience. Without story, we remember nothing. Jesus, Buddha, Mohammed, all used stories to convey their teachings, its how children learn, and adults too. Stories are lessons in 3-D, they present objects and events, without direct evaluation, and it is up to us to look at them from all sides, like a sculpture in our minds. We learn these stories before we have the faculties to reject or censor them and they become part of us, they mold our values and opinions. But stories generally do have values to impart, and we have to be careful what we are teaching through them. My Mi’kmaq mother often warned me about the Three Little Pigs story, that this was not a teaching tale, and that if I ever heard such a story to be very wary. In it, wolves are bad, evil in fact, and that people who live in brick houses are smarter than those who live in thatched houses or wigwams. I’ll never forget that. This is why when I look at blueprints for “green architecture” high rises, I say, “Oh, that makes sense!” I have built a number of wigwams in my day, “houses of stick,” and so far no wolves have blown them down.


Do all native American stories of the sacred have a moral or practical point to make? Are they expressions of the Red Road teachings, or only in some cases? Which ones best express this higher concept of the right way to live? What are the major lessons to be learned from these stories?

All the stories have moral and ethical points to make. All are expressions of the Red Road teachings, only many of them are presented in the inverse, a very effective teaching tool. For example, one of the best ways to teach about the Ashtangikamarga or Eightfold Path as taught by the Buddha, is to teach of the consequences of its opposite. What if we were told a terrible lie about our friend? We would not have right understanding, and would therefore not have right thinking about him. We would then speak badly of him, and then this might lead to actions that weren’t right either. This situation could only be corrected by the eightfold path, more carefully followed. Likewise, the Native American stories often show us the right way (which the Mi’kmaq call Agoolamz) in reverse in order to show us the chain of unpleasant events that can follow, so that we can make our own decisions and not feel lectured at. There are no eight steps along the Red Road, but there are four directions, corresponding with four parts of the self, the body, the heart, the mind, and the spirit, all of which want to be in balance. All of these stories, either directly or inversely, teach of respect for mother earth, and for all beings (creatures, plants, rocks) upon it great and small, and this definitely includes human beings of all sizes and shapes and colors. It also includes ourselves, with all our flaws.

Would you say that "The earth does not belong to us; we belong to the earth" expresses the essence of the the right way to live? If so, could you elaborate on the implications of this statement -- the consequences of not living life according to this principle, and the state the earth might be in if we did live according to this principle?

This saying was originally attributed to a certain speech by Chief Seattle, however the historian at the National Archives claims to have proven this phrase was not in the speech, but inserted later, by a newspaper. In fact, it has been said for thousands of years by elders across North America, in every language of this land, and I ask everyone to say it, so that we can make up for Seattle’s momentary oversight. This is the message behind each of these stories, and it does indeed express the essence of the right way to live on the earth. We have minds and hearts that are connected to the earth, and spirits that live on somewhere beyond this earth, but our bodies are of the clay and soil of this planet and we cannot live long without respecting that fact. While we live, if we ignore or think harmful thoughts about our bodies and the connection we have with the mother earth, we will soon lose our hearts, we will eventually lose our minds and when that happens, we will lose our souls. It’s that simple.

We have already seen individuals who lose their minds and souls by forsaking their mother earth, but it has only been a few. Some have actually lived in New York City. This number is growing, and may soon include millions. What we are seeing now is that large numbers of people are afraid to speak up in defense of mother earth, a strange silence. The consequences of not belonging to the earth are that the earth will no longer continue to serve us and help us. Whether this reversal will seem like “revenge” as foreseen by Lovelock in his new book, or whether it will be more of a crippling, a falling away of the beauty of the earth remains to be seen. Our prayers will show us the way both as individuals and as a race. We can’t rely on mass communication alone to end this silence, we must communicate what we know to our friends and family.

Were the pre-Columbian Amerindian cultures living in a kind of state of grace in which this principle was widely or universally observed? Or was it as little or sporadically observed as it is now? What lesson might be learned from the destruction and subjugation of cultures living the Way by cultures dedicated to an opposing way of life?

I always make a distinction between “Traditional” Natives and all Native Culture as a whole. The old stories are filled with characters such as “The Boy Who Got Mad at the Sun,” (aka the Boy Who Snared the Sun) who do not follow the traditional teachings and get into lots of trouble. We laugh at his efforts to snare the sun; meanwhile we build dams that snare the rivers, we make nuclear bombs and power plants that snare the atom, and launch ships that snare whales and dolphins. When we finally learn to snare the sun only through solar panels, we’ll have learned a traditional lesson. Respect and proper use of our resources.

Traditional teachings about how to leave no traces on the earth, in Native culture are very exact, and I think, sound a little extreme to those entranced by 21st century culture, but those are the teachings. They are getting harder and harder to live by in their pure form. I don’t live up to them, but they are constantly on my mind. I don’t step on ants intentionally, but I’m sure its happened, and I don’t dwell on it , because I know the spirit world is beautiful too. There have always been Native Americans who felt those rules didn’t apply to them. We all are semi-traditional to varying degrees, but the traditional teachings don’t change.

The first explorers were often crazy people who weren’t welcomed at home. (Verrazzano was an exception). They were welcomed here, by and large, and wore out that welcome in record time. It is that restless conquering spirit, implanted in the New World at that time, which has led to some of our problems. Enron’s motto, “Get in, get out!” which led to trillions of dollars of damage to the economy, can be traced back to the wild west, and to the conquerors of this land like DeSoto and Columbus. Environmentally speaking where else are we going to go? The Native culture, which takes things slow, is a good balance to that. Some of those that followed the conquerors were often kind, with good intentions, and it was these salt of the earth working immigrants who often intermarried with the Natives, and whose earth-minded descendants are still here today. They know that “the earth does not belong to us,” and are not the problem, regardless of ethnicity.

What kind of future do you foresee for our children and grandchildren? How likely is it that we will be able to turn around climate change and gain some measure of preventive control over the loss of species and the degradation of all forms of life? Will we ever regain some ecological balance? If not -- what kind of world do you foresee over the coming centuries?

I think we have time to turn it around, if we change the way we live now. I also foresee that great effort will be spent to slow the process down. I foresee a great Renaissance of human culture worldwide as people realize that they might not be able to accomplish anything in thirty years hence, similar to the inspired writings of a dying man. We think of Beethoven’s Ninth and the late quartets, which the man wrote, supposedly shaking his fist at the thunder and staving off death, and of Mozart’s Requiem, mostly for himself. But I think of New York’s own musical immigrant Gustav Mahler, who wrote Das Lied Von Der Erde (Song of the Earth) and then the 9th and 10th symphonies, only after learning in 1907 that he had a fatal blood disease, all of which were incredibly original and beautiful. He moved to New York City to conduct the New York Philharmonic, and lived long enough to hear his previous symphonies played, but not the new ones. It makes me wonder if our greatest achievements as humans will only be heard thousands of years later by visitors to this planet as they sort through our remains. I think we can do better!

I support the junglification of New York and other cities, and I think that the “green architecture” as developed by Jack Todd, the Native American architectural pioneer Douglas Cardinal, and New York’s own award winning Makrand Bhout, (the other kind of Indian) [I need to check spellings here, but don’t have time today!!!] will help us avoid this “dying man” scenario. New York should be at the forefront of this amazing movement. We have the resources, and we know how to make living buildings that do not add to, but actually help alleviate pollution. However, we must overcome the technical problems of electric cars, and use even more public transportation than we do now in and around New York. We need to think years ahead, not just punish people for using what salespeople are selling them. The spirit of the Algonquin landkeepers is still strong on Manhattan island; we can find inspiration in them as to how to make this transition, to get ourselves off the dead end road we’re speeding down, and onto the Red Road again, which, as the Hopi say, leads to a world where children will be safe to grow up.

In Lovelocks’ worst case scenario, we only have a hundred years until there are only small groups camped out on Antartica. People are shrugging their shoulders and saying, “We all die eventually.” But this scenario implies a horror of mass extinction that no human has ever witness before, not even at Auchwitz, not at Rwanda, or anyplace else. Global warming is not a day at the beach. In the worst case scenario, bugs will go crazy, then animals, then people. Tornadoes and hurricanes will make homes suddenly disappear. Food will become scarce, water will become tainted. People will fight each other, armies will go on the march. When Verrazzano discovered what is now New York City, he saw a terrible storm approaching and set sail on a different course, unintentionally reducing the impact that smallpox, carried by his crew, unaware of the danger, would have. The prophecies, in their most terrible aspects, could indeed come true if we don’t change our course in the face of the storm that is already upon us.

What do you see as the force which contributes the most to the loss of life and the decline of wisdom? What can we do to oppose it and turn it around?

As seen in the story Cono, The World’s Greatest Gambler, addiction is probably the most dangerous elements of our nature that nature has placed inside of us. Addiction gets worse when fed by loowaywoodee, an Algonquin word meaning “Bad things in my heart.” We say that poor communication leads to confusion, confusion leads to fear, fear to anger and anger to violence. These all are loowaywoodee. We also know that, according to “The Way of the Heron,” the Algonquin path of conflict resolution and one of the four paths to wholeness I teach about at New York’s Open Center each year, we can find ways to resolve all conflicts through good communication skills. This will reduce the inner emotional pain that feeds addictions. We have a lot of inner pain these days and it leads us into further addictions to materialistic solutions, to entertainment, oil consumption, junk food, alcohol and drugs. All of these things weaken our connection with the spirit which is the true source of wisdom, of which a warm heart and clear mind can only be good servants. Addictions can cut us off from spirit, and can also destroy our hearts and minds as well, not to mention the medical problems caused. In fact, we need them all working equally well together in order to walk the path of wholeness. The solution is as old as the hills, it is communication. We need to ask for help for our addictions and we help those who are lost in addiction. We need to back this up with action as well, in a loving way. Addictions cause us to lie to ourselves. We need to meet lies with facts of truth. We need to say that global warming is a fact, and that there isn’t much time, even if Lovelock, Hansen, and Lovejoy and others are wrong. We need to point out that 25% of the dioxins have their origins in the USA, and that everyone but us knows that, and that the underlying cause is an addiction to oil and power. One of the strongest cures for addiction is passionate devotion to something we love, (religion may not always be rational, or even wise, but it is a powerful cure for self-destructive addictions of all kinds; sometimes a less destructive version of the same) and this has been the salvation of millions. If we are as passionately devoted to nature as we are to our addictions, it could really help us break the yoke of addiction to refined oil and all the other unnatural things we crave.

Could you comment on Prof. James Lovelock's concept of Gaia -- the earth as a self-perpetuating living organism -- and what it shares in common with native American philosophy; also what Prof. Lovelock's most recent comments on the state of the planet portend for the future?

Every Native language has a different way of referring to “Mother Earth.” (Do you want a long list?) They all basically mean the same thing. This word mother implies that we are little children, that we are from her womb, that we depend on her for our food, and for wisdom as to how to live our lives, and that she loves us as a mother loves her children. All these things we attribute to the earth, the planet on which we live. It also implies that she is a living being with thoughts of her own, and a being with which, at certain sacred moments, we can talk to, share with, and give gifts to. We can cry on her shoulder, raise our arms in defense of her, and lament for her unhappiness. In spite of this wonderful relationship, prophecies of countless tribes and nations foretell of the possibility of a day when she can no longer sustain us, that if we do not follow the old teachings, she will make certain adjustments in order to balance herself that will not be to our liking. Some elders say it is like a dog shaking off so many fleas. The stories of the Water Babies of the Washo, for example, imply that the forces of nature are not to be taunted or tested; that the earth has guardians that are so powerful that they can level whole villages with a thought. We are not the only ones who belong to mother earth, there are millions of species, our brothers and sisters, in fact. If we are beating up on our brothers and sisters, we will be sent away from this beautiful home like prodigal sons and daughters. Whether it is wisdom or anger and revenge that cause a loving parent to make this decision is not for me to say, but it is done to protect the rest of the family from harm. The animals, trees, reptiles, fish, and frogs, are all family to us, and yet they are being born deformed and we don’t change our behavior. Is it so unimaginable that a loving mother such as Gaia would not spank us, or even send us out into the cold to die in order to protect the others? In the old stories, it is the other animals who find a way to reach us humans, to convince us to stop and think about what we are doing. We come from a good family. We need to listen to their advice, and it doesn’t come in words, but in non-verbal ways.

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