We do not inherit the earth from our ancestors, we borrow it from our children.
~Native American Proverb
Spent the better part of my day today in the company of friends as we traveled up to the Lac Courte Oreilles Reservation for the annual, "Honor the Earth" Pow Wow.
One has not lived until one has sampled fresh Fry Bread. While I typically go for a Fry Bread Taco, this year I sampled an apple pie and ice cream desert version:
As a non-Native attendee, Pow wows can be seen as a microcosm of a large, complex, diverse but misunderstood, and/or largely unknown culture. To be honest, the first time I went to a Pow Wow, I was like a deer in headlights...dancers in full regalia, food, merchants, feast, ceremonies, and etiquette...But I also could sense the roots that connected what those present day participants were doing with generations of ancestors. It was something to be both humbled by and in part jealous of because I instinctively knew that my own upbringing lacked that depth of heritage and those ties to community.
As I wander along my own spiritual path, the longing for community, for roots tracing back generations and branches reaching far into the future, has guided me to my own ancestral heritage. In Druidry, I have thankfully found a way to express my connection to the sacred. And while I work with my Celtic ancestors and reconstruct what I can of traditions lost, the land on which I live is indelibly native. To ignore this aspect of the land's spirit, strength, and energy is to deny a depth of connection. I don't need to (nor want to) borrow the ceremonies and prayers of indigenous people, but I do try to always acknowledge that which my senses experience when I honor the earth and touch the sacred woven into the land, sea, and sky around me.
That is where the poem, "Into the Sacred Circle" originated. One hazy hot July day, I stood at the edge of the Pow Wow circle, watching as the dancer's feet moved, hearing the sound of the drum and the hum of conversation and laughter, smelling the fry bread. And in that moment I knew what it meant to be part of community, to keep traditions for generations, to use ceremony to connect to the sacred.
That is where the poem, "Into the Sacred Circle" originated. One hazy hot July day, I stood at the edge of the Pow Wow circle, watching as the dancer's feet moved, hearing the sound of the drum and the hum of conversation and laughter, smelling the fry bread. And in that moment I knew what it meant to be part of community, to keep traditions for generations, to use ceremony to connect to the sacred.
"Into the Sacred Circle"
With voices we sing
the songs of our ancestors
so that their spirits are carried
by the sound of unity
into the sacred circle
Dancers drum the earth
with booted feed and floating feathers
while visions circle in the hazy sky
and generations move as one
Pulsing with the power of eternity,
Life is renewed by the beat
of a community drum
and the graceful movement
of tradition's dance
the songs will not be forgotten
If you have not been to a Pow Wow, I have two short videos of the 2013 Honor the Earth Pow Wow.
