Return of the Horse Nation

The horse originated in the Americas more than 40 million years ago. After spreading to Asia and Europe, it became extinct in its homeland. In 1493, the horse returned to the Western Hemisphere when Columbus brought a herd of 25 on his second voyage. Back in the Americas, its native land, the horse flourished.
 

For Native peoples, the first sight of a horse must have been terrifying. A Spanish soldier on horseback would appear to be a single monstrous creature. The Spanish used this terror to advance their conquest, sometimes attaching bells to their armor to add more noise and confusion. The Spanish used horses as powerful weapons of conquest and made every effort to keep them out of Native hands.
 

But gradually, Spanish horses became Indian horses, and Native people began to weave a close relationship with the Horse Nation. Strays from colonial ranches and settlements formed wild herds that Native people caught and tamed. Other horses were captured in raids and rebellions against colonial forces. As horses spread across the Americas, they transformed Native lifestyles and became an important ally in fighting the European invaders. As each tribe encountered the horse, they coined a name for it. A number of tribes used names that likened it to the dog, which was used to pull the travois when tribes traveled.
 
The Pueblo Revolt
 
In 1680, after a century of Spanish domination, the Pueblo Indians rose up against their colonial rulers in the region now known as New Mexico. Led by Popé, a Tewa religious leader, they attacked Santa Fe, killing some 400 Spaniards and forcing many more to flee. Hundreds of horses--perhaps more than 1,500--were left behind, the largest number to pass into Native hands at one time. These horses became the ancestors of many tribal herds. The Pueblo people traded horses to neighboring tribes, and the horse population expanded rapidly across North America. Spain's monopoly of horses in the Americas was over.
 
In the West, horses dispersed quickly along Native American trading routes--first from the Pueblo to the Navajo, Ute, and Apache. The Comanche on the southern Plains traded them north to their kinsmen the Shoshone. These were among the first tribes to incorporate horses into their way of life. By 1700 horses had reached tribes in the far northwest--the Bannock, Nez Perce, Cayuse, Umatilla, and others. Trading links sent them east to the River and Mountain Crow and Missouri River tribes.
 
By the late 1700s, virtually every tribe in the West was mounted. Horses strengthened Native communities and helped in the fight for Indian lands. Horses revolutionized Native life and became an integral part of tribal cultures, honored in objects, stories, songs, and ceremonies. Horses changed methods of hunting and warfare, modes of travel, lifestyles, and standards of wealth and prestige. Horses brought abundance: more food from the hunt, more leisure time. Horse ownership, or an association with horses, conferred status and respect within the community.
 
Native peoples forged spiritual relationships with the Horse Nation. Plains tribes embraced the horse as a spirit brother and a link to the supernatural realm, and incorporated the horse into ceremonies. Embodiments of beauty, courage, and healing power, images of horses on ceremonial objects represent this spiritual connection. Horse visions are still reported by traditional believers who seek knowledge and strength through fasting and vision quests. Although visions are intensely personal, some may be shared through song, performance, and art.
 
Among Native American tribes today, the horse is a symbol of freedom--and protest as a way to achieve this freedom. Horses are an integral part of life for many Indigenous people of this country, so it’s no surprise the animals play a significant role in demonstrations, from the Dakota Access Pipeline protests at Standing Rock to the annual Dakota 38 + 2 Memorial Ride that honors those Dakota warriors killed in the largest mass execution in U.S. history. The medicine power of the Sunktanka Oyate (the Horse Nation in Dakota language) has helped strengthen, heal and empower Native people and youth through these efforts.

Laguna Pueblo Author Leslie Marmon Silko

Ceremony
I will tell you something about stories,
[he said]
They aren't just for entertainment.
Don't be fooled
They are all we have, you see,
all we have to fight off illness and death.
You don't have anything
if you don't have the stories.
Their evil is mighty
but it can't stand up to our stories.
So they try to destroy the stories
let the stories be confused or forgotten
They would like that
They would be happy
Because we would be defenseless then.(1)

The above passage is from Laguna Pueblo author Leslie Marmon Silko's acclaimed 1977 novel Ceremony. The excerpt emphasizes the essential role that storytelling plays within the Pueblo culture. It also sums up the repeated attempts of colonial invaders to erase Pueblo culture by destroying its ceremonies. Despite these attempts, which began in 1540 and continued until the 1930s, the core elements of Pueblo myth and ritual have survived. However, as Silko reveals in Ceremony, the years from World War II to the present have brought new threats to the Pueblos, which, although more subtle than the early Spanish conquests, are even more insidious, and must be confronted if the Pueblo culture is to survive.

In Ceremony, Silko portrays the endangered state of the Laguna reservation following World War II. The land has been damaged by runoff from the uranium mining, and a generation of young Pueblo men has been devastated by the war. Ceremony tells the story of Tayo, a wounded returning World War II veteran of mixed Laguna-white ancestry following a short stint at a Los Angeles VA hospital. He is returning to the poverty-stricken Laguna reservation, continuing to suffer from battle fatigue, and is haunted by memories of his cousin Rocky who died in the conflict during the Bataan Death March of 1942. His initial escape from pain leads him to alcoholism, but his Old Grandma and mixed-blood Navajo medicine man Betonie help him through Native ceremonies to develop a greater understanding of the world and his place as a Laguna man.

In his search for healing, Tayo seeks a cure from Ku'oosh, the old medicine man. Ku'oosh realizes that he cannot heal Tayo because, "Some things we can't cure like we used to...not since the white people came." While the return to the old ways helps Tayo, something else is needed to complete his healing ceremony. This is where Betonie, a new kind of healer, comes in. Betonie still wears the traditional clothes of a medicine man and uses the traditional paraphernalia, such as prayer sticks, gourd rattles and sacred herbs. But Betonie also uses contemporary items as healing tools, such as coke bottles, phone books and old gas station calendars with pictures of Indians on them, all common objects on the reservation. When Tayo questions the use of such non-traditional items for his ceremonies, Betonie responds, "In the old days it was simple. A medicine person could get by without all these things. But nowadays..."

Betonie provides Tayo with the blend of tools and faith Tayo needs in order to undertake the completion of the ceremony, which can cure both himself and his people. The key to survival of Pueblo culture, as Silko demonstrates in Ceremony, may be found in allowing traditional Pueblo ceremonies to change to meet the present-day realities of reservation life. It's in this fusion of old and new that the Pueblos may find the healing they so desperately need after suffering nearly 500 years of colonialism.

Ceremony gained immediate acceptance when returning Vietnam war veterans took to the novel's theme of coping, healing and reconciliation between races and people that share the trauma of military actions. It was largely on the strength of this work that literary critic Alan R. Velie named Silko one of his Four Native American Literary Masters, along with N. Scott Momaday, Gerald Vizenor and James Welch. Her publications include Laguna Woman: Poems (1974), Ceremony (1977), Storyteller (1981), Almanac of the Dead (1991), Gardens in the Dunes (1999) and The Turquoise Ledge: A Memoir (2010).

1. Leslie Marmon Silko, Ceremony (Viking Press, 1977), p. 2.

The Navajo Storm Pattern Rug

An excerpt from my soon-to-be released memoir, Riding Spirit Horse: A Journey into Shamanism. 

Years ago, one of my shamanic mentors gifted me an old Navajo "storm pattern rug," recognizable by its large central rectangle connected by zigzag lightning lines to smaller rectangles in each corner, which represent the four directions, winds and sacred mountains of the Navajo. The central rectangle symbolizes the Lake of Emergence, the portal through which their ancient ancestors first emerged to enter the present world. The lightning bolts carry blessings back and forth between the mountaintops, bestowing good spirits on the weaver and her household.

Navajo rugs and blankets are textiles produced by Navajo people of the Four Corners area of the United States. Weaving plays a role in the creation myth of Navajo cosmology. According to Navajo mythology, a spirit being called Spider Woman instructed the women of the Navajo how to build the first loom from exotic materials including sky, earth, sunrays, rock crystal and sheet lightning. Then Spider Woman taught the Navajo how to weave on it. Because of this belief, traditionally there will be an intentional mistake somewhere within the pattern. It is said to prevent the weaver from becoming lost in Spider Woman's web or pattern.

My mentor suggested that I sit on the rug whenever I journey into the spirit world. I took his advice and journeyed at home while sitting on the rug. When I entered a trance, the rug became a mandala-like portal before me. I went through a doorway at the center of the undulating geometric pattern. I came out beneath a numinous web of light that surrounded the planet. The web emanated a blue glow against the black night-time sky above it. Spider Woman descended from the web on a strand of light and stood before me. She looked menacing and I feared being trapped in her web. She told me that I had nothing to fear. She conveyed that she was the weaver of the web of life. She said the Navajo rug would serve as a portal for me to journey into the spirit world.  

I thanked Spider Woman and returned through the portal to my body. When I opened my eyes, I saw a large spider on the rug beside me. I thanked the spider for being there to support my shamanic journey. It was a good omen

Singer, Songwriter Annie Humphrey

Annie Humphrey is an Ojibwe singer, songwriter and visual artist who was born and raised on the Leech Lake Reservation in Northern Minnesota. Her father was a singer and musician and her mother an artist and poet. They showed her that she carried their gifts in her hands too. She has been recording music for three decades. Humphrey's music career began out of pure necessity. With two young children to care for, she began performing at coffee houses and local events. Over the years her songwriting has focused on a specific theme with a message to "Be brave and have a good journey."
 

One of my favorite Humphrey songs is "Spirit Horses" from her first solo release, The Heron Smiled. Activist and poet John Trudell performs with Humphrey on this powerful, moving song. The Heron Smiled won her national recognition as Female Artist of the Year and Best Folk Recording at the 2000 Native American Music Awards. A true form of modern folk music, this album is simply one of the purest, honest and beautiful collections of music I have heard in many years. In 2004, her second recording, Edge of America was released. It's a little darker than her debut album but an inspiring five star release. The title track from this recording was later featured on acclaimed Native American filmmaker Chris Eyre's film Edge of America.
 

Her latest album, Eat What You Kill, was released in 2019. It features poetic lyrics that speak of accountability and gratitude. Her powerful voice pours out over her piano playing, sweeping listeners up in a whirlwind of emotions and feelings. On one of her songs Humphrey sings, "show your babies all I know, live by the stories my mother told." She uses her music and lyrics to pass down stories and a way of life. Another song, "Now She Dances," is about sexual assault. The song is also about climate change. The way women are treated, and the way the earth is treated, are the same. The last track, "Aadzookaan," speaks about the apocalyptic prophecies to the generation coming up. It says don't be fearful because these things are going to happen. The last verse of the song talks about how everything we need is on our land--the medicine, the resources, the food, everything we need. This is why we're going to be okay.
 

Today Humphrey is happily married and has four children and two grandsons. They inspire her spirit and her art. Her special interest is Turtle Heart, a group she founded that works with youth in her community to promote positive lifestyle choices. She continues to write music and perform. In a recent interview she spoke about her music career, saying, "I have more songs I will finish. I don't have a plan in the music field. I've never marketed aggressively. I just plan to keep writing and playing."

Why Do We Fear Death?

65 million people die each year in the world. That is 178,000 each day, 7425 each hour, and 120 each minute. Unfortunately, many people are so removed from death that they are unprepared for their own death and the deaths of loved ones. The stories we have been told about where we go when we die shape our reality about death. Millions of people are terrified of death because they have been told a story of hell and damnation. When a person fears retribution for misdeeds, the soul may turn away from the bright light. However, it is not the divine that judges us -- we judge ourselves and condemn ourselves to the hell of separation from the divine source.
 

The truth is that dying is part of life; it's just that simple. Death, as we understand it in scientific terminology, does not really exist. As Dr. Elisabeth Kubler-Ross, a pioneer of the hospice movement, explains in her best-selling book On Death and Dying: "Death is simply a shedding of the physical body like the butterfly shedding its cocoon. It is a transition to a higher state of consciousness where you continue to perceive, to understand, to laugh, and to be able to grow." The only thing you lose is something that you don't need anymore: your physical body. That's virtually what death is all about.
 

Death is not an end; rather it is a new beginning. When death is accepted as a natural part of our journey, an extraordinary amount of previously diverted energy can be redirected toward finding your calling, following your heart and helping others. Shamanism shows us that the end of our life is just as important as our birth at the beginning. Living in fear of death distorts our lives, robbing us of death as a great ally for how to live well. "It is not death but an unlived life that should terrify us," explains shamanic teacher and author, Christina Pratt. "When we understand how our unlived lives and unreconciled relationships bind us here at death, we understand what is needed to live well."
 

Reincarnation is a key belief within Hinduism, Buddhism and other eastern religions. All life goes through birth, growth, death and rebirth, and this is known as the cycle of samsara. Life and death are a continuous circle. Through reincarnation and maintaining an open mind, our souls can evolve and grow without limit. We are each on a long journey of the soul, however we can't move forward on this continuous path without a free and open mind. As soon as we close our minds because of religious dogma, fundamentalism or fanaticism, we stop evolving.