It is 1:30 AM and I cannot sleep.
My entire being is filled with anger. I’ve never hated before. It wasn’t in my nature. But now I hate Netanyahu the devil himself, the IDF the devil’s pawns, Biden for being a genocidal murderer, Our Congress for being war mongers, the Pope for doing nothing, Trump for being our own personal devil poised to destroy the country …. I’m filled with hatred. Embarrassed to go out into the world because I’m not me…..
…. Bisan. Bisan Owda the reporter who has spent 9 months telling us the stories and bringing us the pictures of Gaza every day. She has been bombed, shot at, starved, seen multiple friends killed, her home destroyed and yet she carries on every day.
Bisan produced a report yesterday where she broke down. She is ready to be killed. Exhausted by all of the death and destruction. This amazing soul … torn apart. So tired of the helplessness …. like you … I just want to feed her, hold her, let her rest in peace on a beach or in a forest. Millions, literally millions, of people around the world love this woman. But we are not sure she knows that …. that she is adored and prayed for by millions of people. She did win a Peabody Award for her reporting … I’m not thinking that is what she was seeking.
In whatever way you do, please remember her.
The following may seem like a non sequitur. But to me the dots of Gaza and Bisan and the following story are connected. Why must humans, especially white humans, destroy everything around them and then deny it? Wherever we go we bring death. Here we are in 2024 witnessing a genocide, fearing nuclear war, facing the demise of our country as the Climate Crisis unfolds at warp speed. My god …. anyway …. I’ve mentioned to you I am a Yuwipi Man of the Lakota people. The spirits of this land, the world, are crying out. But we won’t listen. We even deny Them.
This is a Climate Crisis story from the late 1800’s.
I recently found an old Lakota song in an ethnography from the 1800’s. It is about how the Dragon Fly comes to help the people. Maybe my Lakota teachers knew this song. Sometimes when I listen to these songs on old recordings or read the words my heart breaks. The Dragon Fly said, ‘I come so that you will not deceive yourself again’. Would the dragon fly come back into ceremony if we asked it? If we knew how to ask it? There are particular ties and colors that would need to be made. This song would need to be sung. A lowampi or yuwipi would need to be put up. And then the people would need to come, humbly sit and ask for the wisdom of the Dragon Fly.
I ask you … can you imagine doing that? Can you put your mind aside? Your technology aside? Your ego aside? Your agitation aside? Your doubt aside? Your dominant culture aside? Could you sit on the ground inside a lodge with hot rocks and steam and old songs and the possibility of an insect teaching you how to repair this earth? Could you sit for hours on a floor and listen to a bug or a little bird whisper to you how to fix what you, your culture, destroyed?
The following is a piece from the mid-1800’s I have shared before but it is so important we read it again. It is important that we remember all these animals and plants and stones are our relatives and can speak to us. Are ready to speak to us and help us. I know that. But it is difficult to even gather enough people together to perform ceremony. To get enough people together to learn the songs. Anyway, anyway … this painfully beautiful story ….
The following piece is an old Lakota story from the 1800’s. Where it is told the Lakota people heard a beaver singing in the woods. They listened closely and heard this song;
"C iye o'wasteka … wic'a' kasotapi na miye' hi sica oma' kaptape ….. Wahpe sasa apkpa waye …. eya'ha ke' “
My elder brothers, the best of our family, they have annihilated; and only I, with my inferior hide am left. I wear red leaves for mittens.
Sometimes people don't understand that last line. You have to really think on it. You have to think differently. You have to feel sadness in your heart for the beaver. No, more than that, much more than that, you have to enter the wounded chaotic mind of the beaver. You see, 40-60 million beaver were killed for their pelts in the 1700 and 1800's. Nearly driven to extinction. Driven to extinction so that people could have warm hats. And warm gloves.
How utterly poetic, the beaver's response to all the death of his brethren is, " [but] I (only) wear red leaves for mittens [when my hands are cold]." Like I mentioned, that song, that verse, was created and given to the people by the Beaver Oyate. Imagine what we could learn if we viewed the beaver as more than just a dumb animal we kill for a pelt?
Bisan would sing, “My elders, my children … my people, the best of us have been annihilated for our land and only I, with my wounded heart and tortured soul am left. I wear the sand of Gaza for clothing.”
Thank you! I have been following Bisan since October. My heart cries with her. I’m devastated.
I pray for Bisan daily and give thanks for her witness.