An image of fire
I have been writing self help articles for The Native Journal newspaper for seven and a half years now. This is my eighty ninth From Within article creation.
I have been asked by many as to why I write for a First Nations paper and I have always known from the inside of me that I have a common spirit with Aboriginal people. It has always been there and when I write I feel as though my words penetrate the very core of the First Nation culture and its history.
Although it is true that I am white, I believe that sometimes there comes along a messenger for those to hear that can without fear of criticism tell it like it is.
I also know how humbled I am when I think about the longevity of my writing stay with this newspaper. I cherish that respect immensely. It encourages me that I must be doing something right. I will also continue to do my very best to ensure that my welcome stays in tact.
Like with anyone else on this planet, I cannot know or experience your pain and sufferings from years gone by. Also, I can only guess at the enormity of your joy.
What I know I can do is allow myself to be guided with highly intensified empathy through the normal difficulties of human life living. Further though, there is a kindred spirit presence that I have always felt with First Nations and I am attempting to show you why that may be so.
If you believe that ancestors can be spirits and if you can also believe that there are those with gifts in this world that can offer human kind provoked thought, you may than begin to understand this article.
I have lived in the North for 20 years and have since traveled to it time and time again. Years of successful hunting and fishing are things that will make me smile in my rocking chair some day. My farthest point North was the Beaufort Sea by Cambridge Bay to see the Arctic Char run.
The Moose is my spirit energy and I was taught by the Cree at the age of nineteen how to call him directly to me. I learned this skill very well.
My 17 foot Grumman semi freighter canoe has many stories to tell and has looked after me when the winds suddenly came up and caught me out there.
My prospector tent keeps me warm when the snows come and when overhead at midnight the geese and swans press on their instinctive formation of flight, I sleep with great calm on Mother Earth. If there is a definition of peace, this is it.
As a coincidence, I wish to share something with you. I have never done this before. I trust it now.
A number of years ago a friend of mine took a picture of me as I sat by a fire. I have provided the photograph image that resulted from that camera shot. I will let you be the judge as to what you see.
It is since that revelation that I no longer question why my interest in First Nations is so strong and pure.
My father told me one day. “Ronnie, life is full of mysteries”.
Throughout my life I have offered to many my writing and speaking skills and have felt the resulting flow of information to help or inspire them. I have also felt that I am doing what I am meant to do.
I now totally believe that what my father said was right. I just wish that I had stopped for a minute to let him expand on that wisdom.