My mind is not very indigenous

During this week’s Hope Beneath Our Feet reading, “Indigenous Mind”, Kaylynn Sullivan Twotrees struck me when she said: “… awareness i not a state of achievement. It is like walking.” The awareness she describes, of the land, of herself, of the world, is amazing to me. Then I wondered: Am I aware? How much? Am I aware so much that it is like walking to me as well?

Of course, the sad realization followed suit: walking isn’t even natural to me. Living on campus, I rarely trek past the Faith and Life Centre. Even when I do, it’s in a carpool to the grocery store or begrudgingly to  the bank. I never just walk. It’s not very natural for me to put a foot in front of the other, whether there is a destination or not, and balance myself towards something. Despite having a gorgeous view of both Rotary Park and the ski trails, I am perfectly content sitting at my desk every day, admiring the trees rather than walking among them and breathing the oxygen they provide.

I also, probably subsequently, never feel aware, never feel as though I have an indigenous mind. Twotrees describes the indigenous mind as being an awareness of our locale that can shift to the grand scheme of things, connecting us to the world. Every speech and every reading of this class so far serve as a sad reminder of my disconnection to the land. I wish to be more aware, but I can’t help but fall into my cycle of polyester clothes, of imported foods, of disposable plates and the delusional notion that food comes from the grocery store.

I found a bit of solace when Twotrees pointed out that all humans are indigenous to the Earth and are therefore capable of the indigenous mind. Augstana is my twelve school. I’ve lived in over a dozen cities, even more “homes”, three provinces, two states… Floating like a dandelion seed, I don’t feel as though I’ve quite “blossomed” into anything yet. I have no attachment to the soils I walk and fail to differentiate them from the other soils I’ve set foot on(albeit probably through plastic soles). Now, through a different lense, perhaps a more indigenous one, I get to appreciate the different experiences I had in various senses in my different locations. Ultimately, now I am more aware than ever at the fact that this world is my world and what happens affects me. I am learning to love the shades that trees form, the sunlight on my skin, the hardworking critters all around, the flowers that blossom year after year. I am getting closer to forming a stronger indigenous mind, to connecting with the spirit of the land.

“How do I live my life right now?” Every day, I think about the source of my food, water, and air a little bit more. I think about what it means to be alive or to be a citizen of this world. I definitely have a much different perspective of life than I did before taking this course. I am challenged by frustrations of my own lifestyle and am eager to know more about the land. I tend to dwell on the past and worry about the future, and sometimes it stops me from enjoying- or even being a part of- the present, where so much is happening. I don’t know if how I live my life right now is with an indigenous mind, but I do believe it is a process. I am aware of this.

3 Replies to “My mind is not very indigenous”

  1. What a powerful post and one that really resonates with me! I’ve also been feeling like a dandelion fluff as I’ve been wandering the planet for much of my adult life. You and I are almost opposites in that way. My childhood was spent firmly rooted in place. To this day my mom refuses to come to visit me in any of the distant places I have lived. Nearly half of my adult life, however, has been spent outside of Canada and, to be honest, I’ve loved the great adventure of exploration that has been my existence.

    When I ponder the readings and my experience of being in this place (Camrose) – one of the homes that has coaxed roots to grow – I wonder if it is possible for a being-in-motion to understand place in a deep way. Further, am I able to be a “grounded” person without having a profound relationship to the ground itself?

    And then I consider again a conversation I had with my mom. She looked at my lifestyle with some sort of awe, believing that I was experiencing something more than she was in her static existence. I explained to her that these two lifestyles – the nomad and the settled – are irreconcilable, but that each has its own gifts. I have the opportunity to see and experience many places, knowing the world widely, but only on the surface. My experience is shallow, like a bush that grows wide and fast, stretching over the land. She has the patience to know a place very deeply – to know her piece of land and its plants, animals and rhythms. She knows her community through its great human shifts, trials and triumphs. Her experience is deep, like a great oak reaching deeply into the soil of her place. And up toward the heavens.

    Finally, I wonder if the indigenous and nomadic mind are equally at odds. Can I truly be a world resident?

    1. Leslie,
      I don’t think you have to trade being indigenous for nomadic or vice versa, but it definitely makes it difficult to be genuine and committed to the land when you don’t get a chance to firmly root anywhere. I definitely understand what you mean about a “shallow experience”. If I were a tree, I would have long, ample branches but they would likely break at the slightest wind, and I don’t know if I would bear any fruit worth eating. The hectic transitions I’ve experienced in my life, moving from coast to coast, country to country, going through three houses in a time period that wouldn’t even have allowed me to feel at peace with one weakened my ability to bond with the land and savour the present. I’m always yearning for the past and grasping for the future; missing strawberries in the fall and waiting for pomegranates in the spring. Being nomadic made being indigenous difficult, but as I grow more aware, I am beginning to root myself for firmly. It’s a process, just like positivity: plant, tend, harvest!

  2. To our universal CREATOR,
    in concert with all sounds as prayer ol each “co-creative being”,
    like GAIA’s birds singing in perfect harmony;
    although the lyrics seem different,
    are all beings breathing the GIFT of the JOY of Creation?

    Hi again, Jennifer and Leslie !!

    Does our healing SPIRIT help,
    behind our lyrics spoken or sung,
    as GAIA’s “co-creative beings”?

    http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xPLKbnGxjdI

    http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nhvH0WbZl9o
    Dr. Sandel from last Saturday’s Philosophers’ Cafe, at least from 1:04 onwards

    http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EqadE2-qtcI at least last 1/2 hour

    In this sacred “GIFT of a heartbeat” moment;
    in this sacred “GIFT of a GAIA” place;
    may your “spiritual sparks” continue to shine for all,
    to touch, taste, smell, see, hear, and
    feel with a tearful smile,
    forever.

    Namaste
    ed

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