A Life in Service: Stories & Teachings from Mala Spotted Eagle

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THE EAST

Hermine:

The initial idea of the book sparked in the fall of 2012 in Vienna, Austria - representing the East. Here the first attempts of recording and having an outline for its content took place.

I would like to share my thoughts on my understanding and personal interpretation of the East in reference to the book. The sun rises in the East, and at dawn a new day begins. When you widen this perspective you can see it as the start of a project or a plan that unfolds itself. When I started out for Europe the very first time, I traveled not only literally to the East, but also in the sense that I embarked on a journey that built the bridge which ultimately led to the creation of this book.

It started with my opening up to the people from Europe, whom I had up to that point in my life considered as the cause for a lot of hurt and wrongdoing performed against the Native peoples over in the Americas. I carried prejudice inside and had closed my heart and mind to them.

The East to me not only represents the start of something new, but also the phase of introspection within and then seeing the whole picture and getting a wider view. This happened when I came over to Europe and met people face to face while traveling to different countries.

I realized that I had been very wrong in my judgment and imagination and I met many people of good hearts whom I felt comfortable with. It created a big shift inside of me and helped me to open up my narrow-mindedness and put me on a whole different journey than I had ever expected. The Eagle, which to my people is the bird connected to the East and which I carry in my name, finally had matured enough and flew up higher to have the wide-angled perspective. My purpose in life unfolded itself and let me experience new habits, people, and cultures, which changed my way of thinking.

When I look back, I also realize that through meeting Hermine in Austria on my first trip to Europe, a relationship began that was much more than a deep personal connection but was meant to result in this book. We started the journey already back then, we just weren’t aware of it yet. I knew inside when I saw Hermine for the first time that she would be very important in my life: Spirit told and showed me this clearly. So in that sense, the East is the opening of a pathway for me to become a speaker and for Hermine and me to come together in the writing of this book.

Certainly inspiration comes to mind while thinking of the East and in relation to the book. Originally I was inspired because my children asked me to share with them about my life: Why don’t you write it down, Dad?

Later on others encouraged me to follow up on that wish. My personal inspiration became more than just the sharing of what happened to me in my life, but much more the sharing and passing on of the knowledge of the elders and the Old Ways, since I had been brought up around those older generations. I thought it was of great importance to pass on this source of information considering what we as humans are struggling with nowadays and the consequences our behavior has on the Mother Earth as a whole.

I hope this book can inspire people to look at things differently, change their way of thinking and can help people in their lives. It might be just one little story that sticks in somebody’s mind or touches a person within -- that would already make me happy.

Hermine:

Mala spoke these words on my trip to the US in September 2017 while I was visiting him in Eugene, Oregon in the Senior Living Community where he lived. We were about to finish the manuscript of the book and again I felt Spirit carrying the project in a strong way. On the day before my departure, we stood on the little balcony of his small apartment at sunrise, overlooking a parking lot. There were some trees in front of us and we could see the rising sun only around the corner of the block. It was not how we used to do the sunrise ceremony, going out on the land, making a fire sometimes, drumming and singing out loud. We didn’t want to wake the elderly neighbors, so we said our prayers quietly and sang softly, but this didn’t lessen the focus of our intent. The smell of sage was in the air and it felt good. A few minutes later a flock of wild turkeys arrived at the scene. For Native people, Wild Turkey has been associated with honoring Nature and the Earth, and encourages us to value our sources of nourishment and be in a harmonious relationship with the earth: a symbol of abundance and at the same time of contentment, satisfaction and having enough. Turkeys were often used as giveaways to other tribes. In modern American times the turkey has become an important part of Thanksgiving Day, which commemorates the pilgrim’s first harvest. Although this celebration is in its heart also about sharing food in the community with gratitude and still carries the same message of Turkey, a lot of the honoring and being respectful to the resources of Nature and the Earth has dwindled. I can’t stop myself from wondering about what price the indigenous tribes had to pay for the taking of their land by the European invaders: the loss of their culture, their languages, the genocide of many of their tribes. What a paradox that the invaders used the Native giveaway symbol for giving thanks, although they took almost everything from the indigenous people and gave so little in return.

What a beautiful teacher Mother Earth is! By reflecting on what the turkey stands for, I gain another layer of understanding. It never ceases to amaze me, and I am deeply grateful for all the lessons I have learned and the incredible experiences I have lived through while on this journey.

Mala carries the Eagle Spirit in his name, and both the ability to focus as well as having the gift of overview are part of that Medicine. Eagle can fly the highest of all birds, comes closest to the Creator and carries vision. It scans everything below while it spans its wings, then tunes its focus to an aspect or detail which it can see very clearly at the same time. The way Mala described the creation of the book shows that wider view from above, where all the different streams coming from many directions flowed together and became a larger pool of information. Sometimes we know these things in advance, are maybe shown them in a vision, and sometimes all of a sudden, the veil lifts and you get a clear insight into that woven tapestry. Native people might say: Sunlight shines on Grandmother Spider’s Web.

The East gives a spark of light, a golden ray of the sun and the possibility of embracing a new beginning every day, while at the same time the wheel continues as certain things come to an end or a life ends.

Where I come from

My full name is Mala Spotted Eagle Pope.

When Native people introduce themselves to other people, it is common to explain your family heritage and which area of the country you come from. It is important to put yourself in reference to your relations. Then it is considered okay to speak about yourself.

My mother was a Western Shoshone, native to the Nevada desert and was named Helen Spotted Fawn. My father was called John Rolling Thunder Pope: he was from the Cherokee Nation and was brought up in the Oklahoma area. Since a lot of the Native American people are organized in a matriarchal way, my father moved, after he had married my mother, into the Western Shoshone tribe.

When my mother was young, she worked in a restaurant as a waitress. My father was a wandering man; he traveled all over the country, working on and off jobs all over the place. One day he stopped to get something to drink and eat and that is where he saw my mother the first time. I guess he decided to stay. He got a job at the railroad and married my mother. Being an Indian, he was actually very lucky to get that job. You see, my father being Cherokee had very light skin. The people from that area, my people, the Shoshones of Nevada, are very dark skinned. So they never figured my father was Native, they assumed he was mostly white. He registered under John Pope, leaving his Native middle name Rolling Thunder out. After some years he was offered a promotion and had to sign a paper stating that he had 100 % white blood heritage. I have seen the paper with my own eyes. My father couldn’t sign it since he would have to deny his Native heritage. So he never got the promotion and stayed in the same job for all those years.

I was born and raised in the high mountain desert of Nevada next to a town called Carlin, which originally was called Fort Carlin, since it had been a military base for a long time. We lived together with some other Indian families on the edge of the town, which was not reservation land. We only had gravel roads, in contrast to the town where there were paved streets and where the white people lived. There is no exact record of my time of birth, but I was registered in the hospital as being born on the 8th of December 1952.

Our home was a traditional Native American household. We lived according the traditional spiritual Way of Life. Over the years my mother became considered a so-called Clan Mother and my father was a well-known healer and Medicine Man. Our house was open to people from all walks of life, and apart from our direct family we usually had many visitors from all over sharing meals with us.

Remembering the rest of my family, there aren’t many relatives that I can think of. I had some cousins from my mother’s side. And there was one uncle, my mother’s brother that I recall we visited from time to time. I think she had three brothers and two sisters in total, but I only met Uncle Leo; he died when I was about eight or nine. All the others had passed on. You have to remember that in those days there wasn’t a high survival rate amongst Indians. There were so-called accidents; things the cops or cowboys would do to them. I don’t know any family members on my father’s side. I know a lot of them had been killed off. I never met any of my grandparents from either side. My father grew up with one of his grandmothers up in the hills. All I know about her is that she was very strict. I don’t have any stories to share about the rest of my family. We never spoke about them much and I never asked about them either. I guess, because you could feel it: there wasn’t a happy history to be told.

We intentionally didn’t live on reservation land since it would mean we needed to follow special Indian reservation laws and not the usual US laws that apply everywhere else. Life on reservations, especially in those days back then, was extremely desolate and people lived under poor conditions with no respect for their culture and traditions and with no positive perspective for the future. It was a very hard place to be.

All together we were six siblings. I had a brother and sister that were from my father’s previous marriage. My mother already had a son too before my parents got together. Those siblings were all a lot older than me. Then I have two sisters who are younger than me. One of them was adopted into our family and one is from my mother and father. Today only myself, one brother and two sisters remain.

The name I am called by is Mala: it is a Cherokee word and means the Strong One. Spotted Eagle is the Shoshone part of my name, which is Beaguina in the Shoshone language.

My mother was fluent in Shoshone, but wasn’t allowed to speak her language while she was in Boarding School. When she came out of that system, she pretty soon got to know my dad and spoke mostly English from then on. Due to the fact that my father was from another tribe, they couldn’t speak their Native languages when they were together, so they used English instead. She did speak Shoshone when she was with her friends, but to us, her children, she didn’t use her own mother tongue much. Even when I was little I cannot recall my mother speaking in Shoshone to me. This is the reason why I refer to myself as Mala Spotted Eagle and never speak of Mala Beaguina. I was simply never called this way.

At some point our mother did offer to teach us some Shoshone, but in those days I wasn’t so interested in learning the old language. As a young person, I didn’t realize how important a language is for one’s culture.

I learned a few words, but really not much. When I grew up, there was a huge pressure to not speak the Native language. Although it wasn’t forbidden any more, you would be looked down upon when you spoke any Indian language. Being an American Indian was by far the lowest on the scale of all the different cultures and colors in the United States at that time. At the top of the list were the white people, and then came the black people, then the Mexicans, and finally the Indians. As an Indian you really weren’t treated very nicely in those days; a lot of hurtful things happened, so you didn’t want to draw extra attention to yourself, you know, not stick out. It was about trying to blend in with the dominant culture.

Like I said before, my mother did offer to teach us sometimes, but both my parents believed that it was our free choice to learn and they didn’t want to push it on us. Although we lived together with some other Shoshone families, even as kids amongst each other we all spoke English. None of our peers spoke in their Native tongue. It was somehow not the time to speak your Native language. Compared to nowadays, where young people take pride again in speaking the old languages. Times have fortunately changed a lot.

Name-giving

In the Native tradition, in the way I was taught, our name reflects our connection to nature and spirit. We say we are all born with a special and personal connection in nature. Sometimes we also refer to it as our spirit totem or animal totem. The connection I am talking about takes it even further than just something in nature that has meaning to you and you feel good about. It exists on a much deeper level within you, as much physically and emotionally as well as spiritually. It can be anything, like water or fire or an animal, a tree, clouds, anything in nature. It is there to help you and to teach you, it gives you strength and it supports you. It can make you feel happy and strong - it can make you feel calm and centered. As you learn more about it and learn how to work with it, it helps you in your life. You can connect with it to get guidance, for protection, for many different things. As everything has two sides, strong points but also weaknesses, you also learn about duality. So by acknowledging those weak areas in nature, it teaches you something about your own weak parts and your own struggles in life too.

When a child is born, a spiritual or Medicine person who has understanding of how nature works is usually present outside where the birth is taking place. You see, they say that at the time of birth, something in nature will show itself in a striking way. So it is necessary that the observing person is someone who knows how nature normally works and can recognize the difference by being aware of any changes at the time of birth. There is a strong pull between the two, the child and that part in nature, and it will reveal itself by acting out of the normal order. In this way the connection the child has to nature and spirit will become clear and results in how you name it. We believe every person has a spiritual connection to something in nature and it will have meaning for the rest of your life.

There are different ways of naming a baby amongst the different tribes, but this is how I was taught and it basically comes down to that special connection to nature that gives you your name.

My name came to me a little differently though. When my mom was about six months pregnant, she was in the bedroom of our house. She had opened a window to let fresh air in, which was the kind you could open up halfway from the top to the bottom downward. It was a pretty big opening. My mom was lying on the bed while resting a bit and my father was sitting close by her. They were talking to each other about the new baby that was coming. They were startled when they heard a loud flapping sound and when they looked up, they saw a big eagle had landed on the windowsill in the opening of that window. It was sitting there looking right at them. They knew right away that something special was about to happen, because this is not what eagles normally do. They got all quiet and they both heard a voice coming from the eagle, speaking to them in their heads. My mother was told to open her hand and look at it: she had some white sperm in her hand, which represented me as the baby inside of her. The eagle told my parents what my name was supposed to be. He also spoke of my life’s journey, how my life would unfold, with all the challenges and struggles, what I was supposed to do and the ways I was to be brought up. When the eagle finally finished speaking, it turned around and flew away. My parents checked with each other about what the eagle had said to them both and they each had gotten the same message.

When I was seven years old, they shared this prophecy with me and to be honest, as I grew up I had mixed feelings about it. My life was all laid out for me and it didn’t leave me with a lot of choices. I was told: this is your path and the spirits are going to make sure you follow it. I would have rather had a life where everything was open. On the one hand the eagle spoke of many good things that were going to happen; on the other hand though, it spoke of the many challenges, strong struggles and hardships I would encounter through life. I have often tried to resist this path that I was told I should walk, trying to avoid it or to get around it, but it has been the foundation of my life and has made me to who I am. Basically when you live a spiritual life, you have no choice and I had to follow that path, whether I liked it or not. I have learned to accept it, but I also did things in my own way, as you will get to understand while reading this book.

Mala, the Strong One, is the Cherokee part of my name and my father chose it for me. He told me he prayed over it for some time and this was the name that came to him. He didn’t explain it any further.

My parents never told me specifically if it really was a spotted eagle that came to sit in that window. They are extremely rare or maybe even extinct. I was told that the white people had killed off the spotted eagles long ago. I looked it up once in an old book and found a picture of a North American spotted eagle. It’s a species of its own, it is not a young eagle; it is a full-size white eagle covered with black spots.

Once in my life I saw a spotted eagle at Meta Tantay, the Indian Camp in Nevada I lived at for 10 years. I was the first person coming out of a sweat lodge, which was held in the middle of the desert with a lot of sagebrush all around it. Right in front of me on one of those sagebrush bushes sat a spotted eagle, looking at me and watching me. A few other people came out of the lodge and saw the eagle there. But then when more people came to join us, it flew away. But I knew it came especially for me - it wanted to share something with me. It was the only time I have seen the bird I am named after in nature.

Memories from Early Childhood

When I was little, we would sometimes go to a small Indian reservation, actually a so-called Indian colony¹, next to Battle Mountain, a town 50 miles away from where we lived. It’s called this because there once was fought a huge battle between the Shoshone and the white people. On the reservation there were still a lot of traditional buildings, wickiups and teepees and so on. You know, we would visit some Shoshone families, bring some groceries, just to help out. My father, already in the position of spokesman for the tribe, was often asked to work on a legal issue or do some healing work on somebody.

I remember one time we went there. I must have been pretty little since I remember reaching up to hold my father’s hand. My parents called us kids together and said: We are going to have a lot of people, especially elders, coming to live with us. There has been another violation of the treaties. They explained: the white people from town, especially the ranchers, wanted the reservation land for their own use. The Indians, who had lived there for many generations, had managed to create some green pasture, which was an exception in Nevada, being mostly a desert state. Although Native people were running the Bureau of Indian Affairs, the so-called BIA, which was in charge of the reservations, white people were basically -– unofficially -- controlling the Bureau. With the help of the State government they had come up with a plan to put a highway that was going to be built right through the reservation, leading up to the town of Battle Mountain. Now, that was really a strange thing to do, because the existing highway came from another direction and they had to make like an extra half circle, miles away, just to make sure it would hit the reservation territory. So sure enough, this is what happened and you can still see it today, the highway makes a big loop before entering Battle Mountain. The ranchers got what they had been after, you know, their green grazing land. The reservation was moved to the other side of town, much smaller than what it was before, and basically on just barren soil where there was no room for pasture and green areas at all.

My parents offered their house to those who were forced off the old reservation land and about eight or nine people chose to come back and live with us. I remember as a child I would walk outside and see the women tanning hides, using cottonwood tree poles which they had stripped clean of the bark and made into thin, slick poles. The hides of the animals were thrown over the poles and the women worked really hard with special kinds of knives called drawknives to get the membranes of the hides. Then they flipped it over and would take off the fur. I also watched the older men when they were chipping arrowheads and spearheads using deer-antlers and buckskin. I loved to sit with them and listen and just be around them. A lot of times the women were also busy with basketmaking. My mom was well known for the making of buckskin moccasin gloves. People from all over would come and buy them from her, even ranchers, because they were very soft and warm and you could easily pick things up and still use your hands with them on. Nowadays hardly anybody can make those any more. I remember all these things very well growing up as a young child around the elders. There were times that all the older people would gather either in the house or somewhere outside and talk together. For some reason I was drawn to listen in on them. So I would hide some place close to hear what they were talking about. Years later of course, I found out that they always knew I was doing that and were actually happy about it. A lot of it was about issues they had to deal with, and also about what the white man was doing to them, about all the hardship and so on. But they also shared stories sometimes or talked about the old days and how things used to be. I just wanted to hear it all. Even if I didn’t understand everything, it was important for me to be part of it, and I did that for years.

Yeah, those are good memories. There were also things that weren’t so nice and easy in my childhood. As children we always had to do work around the house and some of it was pretty heavy and not so much fun.

I remember when I was about eight years old, my brothers and I had to dig out a hole underneath the house which would be turned into a root cellar for my father to use. The house didn’t have a basement, so we had to build it from scratch. My two older brothers had to dig all the dirt out. We first made a ramp of dirt and I, being the youngest, had to haul all that dirt out with a little red wagon I had and dump it somewhere else on the property. We worked on it for a year, summer and winter, no matter what kind of weather.

When I was a young child, my father and other adults would take me out in the desert and show me things, talk about the animals, the herbs, where to find them, how to approach them, what they were for. They showed me where the springs were and how to look for them. They would explain how every part of the desert is alive and that it all has spirit. They taught me how you should treat every part of nature with respect. Sometimes they took me along when they were hunting and gathering herbs. At that time I didn’t know about the prophecy of my path yet, but later on I understood that it was all part of the training already.

The desert was literally deserted of humans: you could walk, as they’d say, for a 100 miles in each direction and not meet a single person. At some point -- I must have been about seven years old -- I went out alone in the desert, sort of my backyard, so to speak. My plan was to take a different route each time to explore and get to know the whole area. I took my 22-caliber rifle with me, which is actually the smallest rifle with small bullets, good for hunting rabbits and ground squirrels, and suitable for a young kid like me. I wandered around for half a day and on my way back I started hunting so I would only have to carry my catch on the way back. We depended on the food from the desert for a large bit, so it was always welcomed to bring some food for everybody to share.

It made me feel at peace when I was out there, and I was never afraid. You know, I was brought up with Nature and Spirit and to me there was nothing strange about spirits talking to me or giving me signs. To me, going to town was dangerous and I didn’t feel safe there. You had to be careful not to be shot at or hurt in some other way or be called all kinds of bad names. So I preferred to be out in the desert by myself where I wasn’t bothered and I felt peaceful and welcomed.

My brothers and sisters had a different attitude towards our traditional Native way of living. They didn’t like it and didn’t follow this path like I did. Because I was taken out into the desert and got special treatment, they were resentful and jealous of me. I always tried to be extra nice to them so they would accept me. Their nickname for me was Goody Two-shoes.

There is a little story that illustrates why. My parents had bought an abandoned cat house. This name refers to the prostitutes, called cats, who used to live and work in these houses. Prostitution was legal in Nevada in those days. It had four bedrooms to the side, a big living room, and in the back a kitchen and a bathroom. Because of its history the whole yard was littered with the broken glass of old liquor bottles. You could hardly walk around freely; it was just everywhere. My dad gave us the option to help clean the yard. He offered us five cents for each gallon of broken glass. Of course five cents isn’t much, but as a kid you could buy some candy for it, which made it attractive. I thought: Oh cool, I’ll go for that! So I started out picking up the glass pieces and filled the gallon can, got my nickel and went to the grocery store in town that wasn’t too far away from home. It was enough to buy one package of juicy fruit gum, which had five sticks in it. At that time, there were six of us living in the house. So I came back proudly with my well-earned gum and by coincidence everyone was at home. I went around with my gum and offered everyone a piece of it, which didn’t leave one for me anymore. But I didn’t show it and I didn’t care. It just felt nice to share and give away. When my siblings found out, they pointed to their heads and gave me my nickname Goody-Two-Shoes.

My siblings were just normal teenagers and didn’t think twice about certain things they did or didn’t do. I was different in that sense and stood out. I was always trying to find balance in everything and be good. I gave everything away I had. My behavior sometimes irritated my brothers and sisters. They felt I was being phony, that I was trying to be too good and it wasn’t for real. They couldn’t understand why I was like that and thought I was doing it deliberately; they couldn’t relate to it. It was the little things, you know. Like I refused to cuss or go along with some of the games they played. They thought I was trying to be better than them. But I did it because it made me feel good inside to share and it just made me happy. It had nothing to do with them at all. They compared my behavior to theirs and drew their conclusions from that. To give always felt good to me and my mother was very proud of me, because she always emphasized how important it is to give: it is the key to a traditional, spiritual Way of Life.

I was different from my brothers and sisters in other ways too, although I didn’t realize it at the time. Already when I was little, I had dreams that told me something or that foresaw things. One of my gifts was having dream power. I would go and tell my parents about it and mostly in a day or two these premonitions would come true. I also had special experiences with animals and eagles. Or spirits just came and talked to me to tell certain things, you know, I didn’t think much of it; I thought everybody was experiencing this and had no idea that it was something uncommon.

When I got to be seven years old, my parents told me how my name had come to me and what path I was supposed to walk. Pretty soon my siblings also knew and realized that was why I had a special position within the family and why the elders took me out on walks and explained things to me. It did create jealousies, and I was made fun of. When I grew older and I more openly chose to grow my hair long and be proud of being an Indian, the difference became even bigger between us. And yet I wanted desperately to belong and be accepted as one of them, so in turn I went out of my way to be accepted by them. They could tease me or even physically harass me, and I would never tell on any of them. Nevertheless I have always felt very connected to them, they meant a lot to me and still do.

One of the dreams I had had to do with my oldest sister. She was quite some years older than me and didn’t live at our house anymore. I was about 12 or 13 and shared a room with my brother, sleeping in a bunk bed. He was staying over at a friend’s house so I was by myself. In the middle of the night something woke me and I sat straight up in bed wide-awake. I felt there was a presence in the room and I saw a misty figure in front of me. I realized it was my sister and she started speaking to me: Mala, I want you to know I have just crossed over but you don’t need to be sad because I am doing fine. I am much happier now. You have to let mom and dad know that I’m not alive anymore but am doing okay. I will leave a sign for you to see. It was like a dream and very real at the same time and I fell asleep again. The next morning after I woke up, I was looking for the sign. I told you I was in a bunk bed. The two parts are usually attached together, top to bottom with bolts, but since these were long lost, we used thick nails that my dad had brought home from work, so the bed wouldn’t fall apart. The nails were made out of very strong steel and were thick, normally used for trains on the rail-road-tracks, so no way you could move or bend them. They were hanging out of the holes on each side. My sister’s spirit had bent each and every one of those metal spikes into a full circle, which for a human is impossible to do. She had visited me to pass on the message and leave a sign to prove it so that we were warned and somewhat prepared for what had happened.

I went to tell my parents that my sister had come to say she had passed away. At first they didn’t want to believe me, but I told them: No, she left a sign! When I showed them, my parents, both very strong in their belief of spiritual ways, took this message for real and my mother started to cry, my father got really quiet. They knew it was true. A few hours later, we got a phone call from the police that she had died a tragic and violent death. My sister had gone away on a trip to Yosemite where she would stay for a few days. She was still very young, in her early twenties.

This is not a pleasant story to share, but it shows that when you are open to Nature and Spirit you can get really clear messages; you are connected to the other side, as well as to other levels of consciousness. When your own spirit and heart are open and receptive, this is a major source for knowledge, truth and connection. I was gifted in this way and was used to having dreams and premonitions. My parents have always supported this and never mocked me. On the contrary, they have guided me with the information I sometimes got and helped me to understand and accept it as a part of life.

Another time, I remember clearly what happened when we were going on a trip to a spring way out in the desert. We had fixed that spring up, dug it out more deeply and made it all nice with rocks around it. We went there every two weeks with a bunch of kids, 13 and 14 years old, to fetch water. This was considered much cleaner and purer water than the water that came out of the tap. My dad always said that this was good water to do medicine with. The night before I got a premonition as a warning. You know, it was that kind of a dream where you know it is a special dream, a dream where things are much clearer and somehow different from an ordinary dream. I saw our old army pickup truck with some of the kids in the back and the dirt road we were always taking. A huge boulder, which apparently had fallen onto the road, appeared just around the corner where you couldn’t see it when you were coming from that direction. I saw how we crashed our car into that big rock and that people got badly hurt, some even killed, because the car tumbled over. So I told my dad about this dream before we left and we took off. When we came to that specific spot - I knew exactly where the curve in the road was - we slowed down and sure enough, around the corner there was the boulder. We were able to move it a little off the road and drive safely around it. That was a good day!

I had a number of dreams that foretold things. To me, that wasn’t very special; you just grow up with these things. The elders and my parents always encouraged me to tell them about it, never to hide them. They helped me to understand them. I also had journeys that took me to other, far-away spiritual places, some heavy journeys, not always lighthearted. But some were extremely beautiful too. I remember a very powerful dream, when I was about ten years old that took me to the so-called Tree of Life². The Tree of Life is the subject of many Native legends: it is said that as long as this tree stands, there is hope for the human beings, the two-legged ones. As soon as the Tree of Life dies, humans will not be able to survive and exist anymore. In my vision I took a long walk and came to this magnificent, enormous willow tree, which had rainbow-colored leaves, all of it vibrating with light and of extreme beauty. I recognized the Tree of Life immediately. It was telling me many things, and I stood under it for a long time. Then finally I came back. That vision has stayed with me until today and I will always carry it inside of me. I was so very happy there.

Teaching on Weather

When I was a young kid, around nine or ten, I loved the snow. I would sit in front of the window, just watching how the snowflakes fell down in winter. Nevada in the summer is extremely hot, but in winter we do get a lot of snow and it is quite the opposite, with extreme cold weather too. I loved the freshness and the quiet falling down of snowflakes layer upon layer on the earth. My parents observed my fascination for it and started to teach me things about the snow and wintertime. In our area the cold temperatures and snow are important and beneficial because it helps to crack open certain kinds of nuts which would otherwise not bring new seeds again the next season. The earth can rest beneath that white, cold layer and replenish. The mountain snow is essential for the creeks and rivers to fill up again in spring. The cold that comes along in winter helps to kill germs and bacteria that otherwise would explode in numbers. It brings balance in this way. It keeps the ecosystem healthy and strong. They told me also: It is good that you like the snow but you should at the same time respect it. Getting to know the snow can really help you become stronger and healthier too. I asked how I could do that because I felt an urge to understand more. They said: The most important thing is that you should learn to approach it without fighting it. Usually, when you look outside and it snows, your first reaction is to bundle up in a lot of clothes to go outside. But you shouldn’t do that. You signal that you feel a need to protect yourself against the snow and that you can only confront yourself with the snowy conditions by putting on a lot of clothes. In that sense, you are already starting to fight the snow. You are actually signaling: I’m in battle with you. I fear you and resist you."

But snow is part of nature, and if you want to be close to nature you have to allow it to be close to you. You should give it a chance to get to know you too. The only thing is though that you always need to be aware of its power and strength. If you don’t respect the power of the cold, the fire, the water, whatever it is, you will end up getting hurt. You need to respect and honor it. As long as you do that, all those things from nature, like cold, fire and water will work with you. You need to learn to flow with it and not fight it."

Then my parents suggested that I should go sit outside and see how it would work for me, taking that information in account. So they pointed to a little chair, which had a thin cushion on it and told me to go outside, just as I was dressed now, in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. I was actually excited about this prospect and went out immediately. They also pointed out to me not to dwell on feeling cold but only to honor and respect it. As soon as you dwell on something you give it more power: it gains strength and becomes more in your perception then it really is.

When I went out, I noticed the snow coming down slowly covering the grass and twigs on the earth. There was a dogwood bush close by, and I saw how it was being covered too. Then I thought: This is what I’m going to do. I’m going to watch how the flakes fall down, as they cover up everything. When I took my place on the chair, I thanked the snow for being there and asked if there was anything it could teach me to be in a good way with it, if the snow could teach me to understand its ways. Then I just let it go and focused on the snowflakes. The first time I still had my tennis shoes on and I didn’t stay out for very long. But I really enjoyed doing it, and every time it snowed I took the opportunity and sat with the snowflakes, watching them, observing them, enjoying their beauty. During that winter I used to sit for hours in a row, wearing no shoes at all anymore, not bothered by the cold. My parents were getting a little concerned about this new habit, but I was actually feeling comfortable doing this. Only upon coming back in the house, I would feel the cold, funny enough. While I was out there, I wouldn’t feel it as much. I didn’t feel warm either, but it was neutral.

As I was so much into it, my parents taught me more ways how to be with the cold, and I would like to share those ways with you here. When you feel the cold coming to you, you can perceive it as a coat you put on, like an extra layer that covers you. It just sits there and in a way protects you. You actively visualize how the cold is like a blanket on top of your skin and - very importantly - you give it thanks for what it does for the Mother Earth and welcome its beauty in. It is only on the outside of your skin and doesn’t go deeper inside. Embrace it and observe your own body intensely; open your senses to how it affects you. Watch your own fear and physical reactions, they might not be as strong as you originally thought they would be. They change as you change your attitude towards it. In this way, you can actually become warm.

Then there is also the possibility to work with the heat within the Mother Earth. Deep down in her, she stores all that heat, that fireball at the core of her being. If you ask her if she is willing to send that heat up through to your feet, you will start to feel warm. First your feet get warm and then the warmth spreads through your whole body. Another way that they shared with me is to remember that as soon as you start to feel cold, you should not give in to that thought and feeling; thinking about it adds energy to that very thought of feeling cold. You should turn that thought around and remember the last time when you were feeling really warm. It can be when you were sitting in front of a fire or when you were in a bathtub or tucked really warm in your bed. Then you picture yourself in that warm and comfortable situation and visualize how this warmth spreads through you again. My parents said that it was important to utilize the last memory, because that one was more vivid and closer to you and the energy was still with you. When you’re out in the cold and you focus your attention on this memory moment of warmth and heat, it will actually return to you.

This whole process you could describe as constantly shifting your focus while primarily having an attitude of gratefulness inside of you. You focus on a thought or a perception for a while, but never force it. You don’t dwell on it either. You shift to another focus and stay with that for a while. At one point, your mind isn’t important anymore and you are in a certain state where you experience great awareness with hardly any physical discomfort.

Essential is: no matter what kind of weather you encounter, the cold, the heat, rain, snow or wind, you have to welcome it in. It is all part of Nature and there is a reason and purpose that it is there in that form at that time.

Many people claim they want to connect more to Mother Earth. Yet they continue to see her in a negative way. They want to get closer to nature but at the same time, they want it the way they like it and not as it appears to them. I hear people talk badly about it or I hear them complain. Sentences like: Oh, I can’t handle it anymore. It has been raining for a week! It gets to my mood! I wish it would stop! or: This stupid wind is so terrible and awfully cold. Some people even use cusswords and swear. They argue with the weather and express a dislike or a fear of it. How many people are resisting the weather that is outside? How many people say they hate the cold or the rain? Most people react by wanting to put on a lot of clothes because they think they are going to freeze or be uncomfortable outside. They don’t like to get wet from the rain and they put sunglasses on as soon as the sun is out. Many people are afraid of the darkness and don’t dare to be outside then. It’s too scary for them because they were taught that ‘bad’ things could happen at night. They were taught that if you don’t put the right clothes on, you’ll get sick, catch a cold or get sunburned.

They do not appreciate it the way it is. But that is essential! We have to see the sacredness and beauty of Nature at all times, instead of perceiving it in a negative way. We should be grateful for it and acknowledge its presence, whatever kind of weather might show up and just be happy for it. If you welcome it in, you’ll start off with having a positive relationship with nature.

Embrace the beauty and the sacredness of nature and welcome all aspects of life! If you respond with fear, you actually fear your own being, as you consist of those exact same elements. You are a part of those things; you are not separated from it.

When you start practicing this later in your life, you have to overcome the layers of habit in your way of thinking and your automatic emotional responses, which is a challenge, but you can always start making little changes. Don’t expect straight away to sit outside in the snow for hours. Be patient with yourself and watch yourself and your responses closely. Little by little your way of perceiving will change and it will reflect in how the weather affects you and your body. We also have to keep in mind that our physical bodies do have different abilities and limits. We are not all built in the same way.

Think about and imagine yourself speaking positively about the weather and observe how it affects you. Notice how you automatically are defensive about the weather and think and speak negatively. Turn those thoughts and words around consciously: speak about the good the rain does, how the sun’s rays warm the earth and how the night brings peace and quiet to everything. Use your imagination and remember all the different aspects of the weather you can think of that are actually beneficial.

I also witness people who say they appreciate nature and are aware of how important it is and how close they feel to it, yet when it comes to their own issues, all of a sudden there is a separation. Partly the old prejudices and belief systems seep through; partly it’s negative experiences they have been going through that are in the way.

I am not saying you should go out and let yourself freeze and harm yourself, but you can open yourself up, leave your comfort zone a little, and in doing so, get much more in tune with nature. When you start feeling cold, you can still make a decision to put something warm on when it gets to be too much for you and you really feel you can’t handle it anymore. It shouldn’t lead to the point where it’s hurting you, but you can gradually get used to being outside more without any need for protecting yourself.

Respect for nature is different than having a fear of it. Your chance lies exactly there though - to turn something around where you feel the most resistance. If you go out for a little bit when it is snowing or below zero without putting on extra layers and you just sense the cold and welcome it in, then you are actually connecting with that part of nature and it doesn’t rule and have power over you.

Corbin Harney, one of the elders who taught me, has said many times that what made him sad the most was that people nowadays are afraid of everything. They are afraid of being alone; they are afraid of nature; they are afraid of their connection to the earth and to spirit. If you have so much fear inside of you, you can’t live life. It stops you from being alive, you just walk through life existing but not fully living. You do your work, wait for the holidays or until you are retired.

The way I see it, we can choose to live our lives with love instead of fear. It is the love for Nature and for Spirit, for Life as a whole that makes it so worthwhile and wonderful. Reality is magical when you carry love and appreciation in your heart. I was told if you walk a spiritual path, in the end you will love everything: the water, the sun, the day and the night, the cold and the heat, the birds, the trees, the visible and the unseen… You truly have love in your heart for all things and every aspect of Nature. There is no good and bad and no judgment. Everything that comes to you, you embrace it with love. It is all there to teach you.

It was helpful that I practiced a lot as a kid and was able to be out in nature a lot too. It came natural to me – so to speak.

When you do not separate yourself from nature but recognize that nature is a part of you, you can actually work together. You shouldn’t take the weather as something that goes against you personally, because the weather just is. When you make it into a personal fight, you are basically harming yourself and you are bound to lose anyway. It doesn’t mean though, that as a person you can’t learn from the weather, because it can teach you a lot, as everything in nature teaches us, if you are open and willing to learn.

Growing up in the desert, I had to deal with great heat in summer, hardly any rain, and cold nights. Wintertime brought extreme cold with a lot of snowstorms. My body has physically adapted to those big differences, even without deliberate practice: it was used to it. The teachings and exercises as described before enhanced the process of adapting on all levels. My way of thinking was shaped; I wasn’t overreacting to any kind of weather emotionally; my spiritual connection to nature became deeper and more intense; my body developed an extra- thick layer of skin that protected me both in the heat and in cold. Doctors and nurses have often told me that they have a hard time going through my skin with a needle and actually measured it once, which gave a surprisingly thick result. I still hardly ever wear a jacket or a sweater. Even when the top layer of my skin is getting chilled the inner parts of my body are nice and warm. My body has adjusted to it and can adapt to the temperature as is needed. Only growing older, and my recent suffering from diabetes unfortunately make it where I am more sensitive than before. Most ancestors would be able to handle the weather much better, because they had to deal with it and were able to take it for what it is and not fight it.

All in all, when it comes to the weather and our behavior towards it, it is about changing the energy of resistance into a positive energy. The same principle applies for the wind, the rain, the heat and the darkness, anything from nature.

The fear in our minds makes the cold or the heat more intense. To get in touch with all the elements of nature, you need to know what it is about and how it works on you. You start to communicate with an open mind and heart to understand its principles.

You will find you won’t lose as much energy as you would otherwise while being in that constant battle. The battle isn’t just physical; it has turned into a mental and emotional one and has power over you. That leftover energy will be set free to help you stay warm and that is how it works. All things are there to help us.

Separation from Nature and Spirit

Very often I have witnessed when people talk about the Mother Earth, they see themselves separate from her. We talk about her as if she is something else over there, while we are here, as if she is something that is outside of us. Yet we consist of the same elements; we come from the Mother Earth -- our bodies with all the different features and parts -- and at the end of our lives we go back to her. Everything that nourishes us comes from her. So we are not separate at all.

Besides being physically a part of nature, we have a spirit in us. That is how we as Native people call it. Others speak about energy; some call it a soul. It doesn’t matter what you call it; those are just names. Every person has his or her personal spirit. As we sit together here on this grass, our spirits touch each other and they connect and create a kind of energy field, which has its own spirit. Not only between you and me, but also between the grass we sit on and us, or those trees around us, to the sun, the wind, and so on. In the Native Way, this means that everything is connected through a spiritual energy.