January 2019

The tent is small and full

it is a festival but this is a ceremony

There is silent commodore here, among your people. A commodore in the drum- our collective heartbeat, our steps, the joining of our hands.

It is a cree ceremony the Round Dance

But you feel the power of a shared story, history, and a single people bridge the gap of otherness. With each hand that is held, each drum beat, song, and step there is a healing of our collective wounds

You can feel the power and spirit in the song. The song of the men in front of you. These songs that are love, spirit, becoming, healing, and the purest forms of power (ours not theirs). The drum beat, the heart of our mother, resonates in your bones and heals from the inside.

You question if you belong. If you are native enough, or the right kind of native. but before your mind can respond you feel it. You feel it in the song, you feel it in the drum, in your step, in your joined hands. You feel the answer before your mind can tell you otherwise. It is a choice to believe this.

You are not healed and you will never be healed, but you are healing. When you hear the spirit of the songs, the wisdom of our ancestors, you heal.