"Word's once Spoken, can't be taken Back."

 "Horace’s wise saying is straightforward: words, once spoken, can’t be taken back. Just as an arrow, once released, cannot be returned to the bow, comments, when uttered, have an irreversible trajectory. They can mend or break, uplift, or shatter. The core message? Think before you speak, and recognize the power your words hold." In today's world this quote has never been more truer. 

I was visiting with this Anishinaabe Kwe (Ojibwe Woman) yesterday. She has a reputation for being a "hard" difficult person, Zanagizi, as they say. I openly tease her about being Zanagizi, and we laugh. I personally haven't been on the end of her "hardness" but have heard about it. She of course, doesn't understand why people think that of her. It's always about context isn't it? When someone is being difficult there must be a reason for it. We may not agree, or that person may even be wrong, but they have reasons for being difficult. Of course some individual are just arseholes and that's that, not saying my visitor is anything but an alright person. Anyways, we were speaking about the endless posts on social media of negativity. Not just negative views but just pure venom being splashed all over people's faces. Like in those pornography videos (that I have heard of) where a strapping young man with Jesse Ventura type body or maybe a potbellied middle age white man with the horseshoe hair line, and they "jizz" all over an agreeable face. This is what happens on social media, and many times it's people we know. Some of those people are self-aggrandizing wise ones, who are following the Teachings; Seven Teachings to be exact. As my visitor and me were exchanging wise words to each other,  (actually it might be called gossiping) we concluded that those individuals from our Reserve, are not exactly being good role models. Not good examples, despite all their self-promotions and glorifying their deeds of philanthropy.  Still there can be truth in any of our boasts. 

Boy, I tell you, I have said many a bad thing about people now and then. Part of being a human being I guess. It takes work, practice to say mainly good things about people. But many are doing that, they do it in person and in the world of computer screens. I tend to like that a little bit, good remarks of someone sharing a bit of joy in their lives. A photograph of a grandbaby, a puppy, a boyfriend and a new job is worth a good word or response. I can never ever imagine someone saying to me, "man you have an ugly _______."  Can those words be taken back? I guess if it is joking? 

My visitor was saying "I wonder if they would be benefit from a Circle?" What she was talking about was having the people in this case, who were saying hurtful things to each on social media. Some pretty ugly things. Would having them share to each other, benefit both of them? Like something of a mediation? I don't know how it would be. As far as words go, they are out there, so how could the words be unsaid? 

My visitor and me talked about apologies. I think we should apologies when we do something, say something, write something that has hurt someone. The thing is we have no business after the apology with how it is received by the hurt person.  If the hurt party doesn't accept the apology, it is their right not to accept the apology. I don't know if you should try and try to apologize or let it be. I think you let it be, but work to not do that mistake again. Word's once spoken, can't be taken back.

Well, as my deceased friend used to say as he was leaving, "goodbye, never did like you anyway." 

Now that's how you say,  Giga-Waabamin. 

Even Heroes Die

My friend died the other day. He was sick and in a care home. He had just turned 66. There is no way to really to pay homage to him, he was full of life for sure. My first real memory of him was us on a swing set. It was the Fort Alexander Indian Residential School. We never called it that, it was the Boarding school; everyone in the Reserve called it that. He was moved to another Boarding School in Winnipeg. So we didn't see him all that often growing up, just once in a while. His life was filled with adventure, mishap and encounters with the law. We did run into each other walking on a street in Winnipeg. From there we had a life long relationship. Not just a relationship of being from the same Reserve but being oldest friends. 

I was saying at this funeral service of how we live one life but really we lived many lives and he lived thousands of lives. The fun we had, the criminal acts we did, the dangerous situation we were in, and the bond we had. He was good to my wife. He was always Uncle to the kids. He was intelligent, good looking, compassionate, kind and troubled. He carried the Demons of the Boarding Schools, foster homes, juvenile corrections and jail. His demons followed him and tripped him up many times. He would be doing well, making high level connections and when it was going to well for him, he would sabotage himself. 

When he died he took many of my secrets with him. He also took many lifetimes of stories. He was a great story teller. Making jail sound so much fun, one of the listeners said, "oh I wish I was there." The guy actually thought jail was a fun place to be, because of Earl's stories. 

We were bonded but we were opposites. He was addicted and I only actively indulged with alcohol for about 3 or 4 years. He was cool, calm under pressure, while I was volatile and high strung. He was naturally smart while I had to work at it. He was multi-talented while I was one dimensional. We both carried demons. His demons manifested in addictions. My demons manifested in wickedness. We both tried to do right by people. Failed many times at it, but lived through the aftermath. I remember one time he had passed out from drinking; a fucking piece of shit bully took a fish knife and cut lines on his face. Like the Jack Nicholson joker. When my friend was healed I was so mad. I picked him up and took him driving around looking for the guy, I had a handgun was taking my friend to go and shoot this fucker. "Maano, maano" was my friend. I didn't find the guy at his home. We were friends with this creeps younger brother and Earl didn't want him to be hurt. 

Like many heroes, he would need rest. When we were younger he would be able to stop abusing for periods of time, later in life, addiction did consume him. Still he held onto his Spirit. He was good. I told him many times how such a smart guy can do such stupid shit to himself.  I was fortunate to have him as a friend. We had many disagreements, many falling outs, but we always found our friendship still intact. No matter how rough it became between us, we never stopped loving each other. I did love my friend. Its funny because growing up in our times, love was never said to anyone, except maybe your partner, the Woman in your life. No love said to your Mom, never to your Dad or your siblings. 

I was telling my cousin how weird it feels. My friends are dying. Heroes do die.