Cracked Cups - Broken Cups

 The Japanese have a practice call Kintsugi.  Kintsugi is the art of "fixing" broken pottery, making it look even more beautiful with the repairs which have been made. It is also a telling, not throwing something away because it is broken. 

"As a life philosophy, kintsugi argues that the places where things have cracked and been repaired are not failures. They are evidence of a history that has been lived. Difficulty, loss, rupture: these are not things to hide. They are things that, when attended to honestly, become part of what makes a person or a relationship or a period of life worth understanding."

It is a cool way to look at something broken, maybe even if we look at it in our own lives. I see this in many of us, we are cracked, some of us are broken and even some of us are smashed; smashed to pieces. Can there be a fixing if the piece is smashed to pieces? Do we even recognize if something is cracked or broken, and if it is, do we adjust our view of it?

shutterstock.com

So what do we do with people who are cracked? Society labels them cracked and treats them accordingly. The police are the hands of society. The hands of society is rough. "Man-handled" is a soft term to describe the treatment of the cracked. Thing is, some cracks can be fixed like the Japanese art of redemption-Kintsugi. In Canada, and the United States we really don't do that kind of thing. If it's broken, well fuck it, toss it, in some cases "have at it," smash it even more. 

We tend to view the cracked as ugly, don't we? It has no purpose, can't be fixed, no redeeming qualities in something broken, is there? Try pick up the Cracked and you could get hurt, maybe get a cut from the jagged edges.  Japanese society seems to know there is redemption, even beauty in  the Cracked. So much so, they give energy and time to fixing what is cracked, what is broken. What a way to see the Cracked, isn't it. 

Indigenous people have been cracked with all that colonial bullshit that happened and is still going on.

Interacting with the Cracked, is a matter of how we see and approach the Cracked. Maybe the Cracked can be fixed or mended, who knows. All I know is we have a bias towards the Cracked. Where we see this most often is by the actions of the First Responders (Police, Ambulance), the decisions makers and then the "everyday Karen and Karl" on the street. There are no shortages of jokes, complaints, insults regarding the Cracked being played out in social media, television shows-sitcoms-movies and in the news. The Cracked is a target for everyone. 

So how do we see the redeeming qualities in the Cracked, the slightly chipped cups and the broken cups? 

There are many many many reasons for a cup being chipped, cracked, broken and smashed beyond recognition. We can name them, the reasons of course, but in the end the reasons come down to a multitude of actions, of years, of held beliefs, of seeing, and imbedded in laws. Now how do we go about with Kintsugi, with fixing the broken, the cracked cups? I don't think it is up to us to fix the broken, we don't have control over them. What we can do is this: Stop being a fucking arsehole to them, the cracked cups. Stop looking down on them, judging the fuck out of them. Maybe instead of choking them, kicking them, spitting on them, ignoring their existence, instead of killing them,we acknowledge them cups, as people, as a human being. That's a start. We need to see the person behind all the shards of broken glass (cup material). How the heck do we do that?

We need to exercise. Exercise our compassion. With any thing we do, we have to keep repeating and repeating until we can get it right. It may not be perfectly right but it's better than where we started. We have to look at them as a vessel that is incapable of holding anything anymore. It has to be hard for cops, they see the broken, the cracked cups everyday. It must be difficult to see humanity in the damaged. I guess it's a way to protect themselves from getting cut by the shrapnel of broken glass (people get it). 

In the end we all have chips, cracks and are broken. Does that mean we are beyond use? Beyond fixing? Beyond compassion?  

We need to be aware of our bias, conscious and unconscious bias. Our ugly view of the cracked. Be like Johnny Cash and wear Black. "Well, you know Johnny always wore black, and he wore black 'cause he identified with the poor and the downtrodden..." 

Maybe God will cut down those who step on the cracked cups. 

How Beautiful We Are: Anishinaabek

 This morning, I drank my Earl Grey tea and watched a little film; "If anything happens, I love you." I had seen this little film before and for some reason I watched it again. I was sitting propped up with a number of fluffy pillows in the King sized bed, drinking Earl Grey and scanning through titles of shows and films. I was not sure of where I was going with the aimless channel flicking and searching and what my emotional state was in. But there it was, picked a little animated show of 12 minutes in an obscure category of  Netflix listings. I watched it and it made me cry and reflect. The show demonstrates the grieving parents of a horrible incident; school shooting. It made me cry for our loss. Yeah, it's been 21 years this August that my dear boy, ended his life by chosen to hang himself. Still this took me somewhere else, I don't cry in the conventional sense, sobbing and bring tears. I'm medicated everyday so tears don't come anymore, but deep sadness and emotion is still there, it is in the back of my eyeballs. A pain of burning happens behind the top part of my eyes. 

Yesterday, it started off pretty good. I was up early, drove to the Reserve, which takes me a hour and a half to get there. So it's an hour of talk radio, CBC morning show and the University of Manitoba radio show. I like to listen to talking and move on to my music play list: John Prine, Lyle Lovett, Tom Waits, Watchhouse, Chris Smithers, the Rolling Stones, Van Morrison and lots of old radio rock. When I got to work, I started with Sage Smudge. There is a beautiful Eagle carved staff hanging in the reception area, I am tasked with smudging the Staff. It is soothing and cool, I feel. It gives me the opportunity to smudge myself. It makes me feel good, you know what I mean? Anyways the day started off like that. I could hear some of my colleagues laughing amongst each other and this brings me joy. A few of my co-workers were getting ready to go pick Grandfathers (M'shoois Asin), you may know them as rocks. When a local Knowledge Keeper came with his truck to hook up the trailer to go haul the Grandfathers. It became apparent that damage had taken place. Someone, (burned me up) came and stole the battery for the jack mechanism of the trailer. The trailer needs an electric jack to lift up because the trailer is heavy and cannot be picked up an individual to hook the trailer to the hitch on the truck. Not only did some individual steel the battery, but the cut all the electrical wires and took them. Can you imagine, and the thing is, this trailer was one week old, it was just purchase by the community Health Centre. This was extremely disheartening. A lot of theft and destruction is going on in the community. At the Powwow Arbor, there was a new wiring system put in the MC stand and a solar panel system put into the Arbor, and some individual came and destroyed the new electrical system and stole the four thousand dollar system for the solar panels. This didn't feel good. It feels really ugly actually. 

The fact is, there are so many good things and happenings going on in the Reserve. These ugly incidents are dark cold clouds on our shining sun-filled community and people. It is enough to make you say, "Jesus Maggot Christ sakes," and go on a running-over-Reserve-dogs-rampage. But nope, as the great Bahai' says, "Hey you know what, Maanoo." Actually the Bahai' Faith do not say Maanoo but Bahai' says a lot of cool shit. Maanoo is an Anishinaabe saying used by the Old people in the community, it is a way of thinking, "let it go," or as the Italians in the movies says, "Fuhgeddaboudit." Maanoo is still used but not very much these days. Seems it is a way of thinking that was exclusive to the Old people. Not that we don't have old people now, but I'm talking Older Old People, those ones. They used to say stuff like "Yoohoo" when in conversation with you. No one says that anymore. In any case sometimes bad shit goes on. It can ruin us or we can side-step it. Like deceased Elder Ken, once said, "if you're walking and see shit on the street, do you step in it?" We are going to have dark cloud days, but there is going to be sunshine as well. 

Our community is experiencing some hardships, there is no doubt. In the midst of those hardships there is the movement of Mino-Bimaadiziwin, the Good Life. Many Reserves - Native communities are igniting flames of Traditional life, Traditional Beliefs, Traditional Languages, through Traditional Teachings and Celebrating their heritage. 

It is beautiful, the Anishinaabe - the people. It is the Traditional Teachings, the Language, the world view, Anisinaabe will bring about the Good Life. I love being Anishinaabe. One of the things we hear when our People pray, is to give Thanks. We give thanks for the Earth and all the Relatives we have here on Earth. It's funny, we have everything, I mean everything we need from the Earth, but yet, human beings want more. For fuck sakes wanting stuff for the sake of having it, is what is killing us. The Earth will survive but maybe we won't and that is not the Earth's fault. How wonderous is it how a world exists at all. To have the miracles of life, living beings in this world, now you have to admit that's fucking awesome. It's beautiful how Indigenous people see the World, as all connected. Fuck those who just exploit, how sick are they. Not sick in something they have no control over, but sick in the choice of how they see the world. 

Like any person, I get tired too. I can choose to focus on what is wrong: the wickedness, the depraved, the greed and the overall selfishness of individuals. The whole living as an Indian brings me back. There is always something, someone who will bring you back to seeing the Good in Life, good in the world. When I see those young singers at the Drum and how they choose to interact with the Drum is a blessing. You see, they, the Indigenous people see everything as a Relative, and the Drum is a relative. It's built into the Language, the Drum in the Anishinaabe language is a living relative, not a "thing." How beautiful is it to see the world as having so many relatives and being connected to them? 

How Beautiful We Are: Anishinaabek. It's not a question, it's a fact. 

Red Bull - Whistled - 

Through Indian Eyes

 

I purchased this book many moons ago. It is a good book. Not sure of how it would be received today. As a kid, a young adult and now an older adult, I still value Indians in media, in sports, in television, in movies and in the spotlight. Another book I did enjoy was Mitakuye Oyasin: We Are All Related, by AC Ross. I did get to meet him a couple of times so that was cool. The first time was a conference at the Lethbridge University, Ross was a speaker. Phil Lane Jr was the host of the conference and it was the launch of the Four World's Institute. If you ever get the opportunity to go on the internet, search the title We are All Related, find a book store and be able to order the book for about fifteen bucks, do it. The read is interesting. Some things you may find far fetched, maybe weird, but look past that and grab the nuggets of gold the reading offers. You will decide to wish me good feelings and gratitude for sending you to the reading. You will end up quoting, "the world is going to shake like a  dog and shed its fleas." End of the world baby, end of the world (but not the way you think).  

I have been missing Ceremony in my life. Of course I have attended a few this year, but somehow I miss Ceremony. I was at a Ceremony a couple of weeks ago, and man did I feel really good listening to the Knowledgeable ones.  There is much to be said about hearing good words, good advice, good Teachings. I do see things, like the good in others. It takes practice. Practice to look for the good. I think looking for the good in people is in fact Looking Through Indian Eyes. That is about Looking Through Indian Eyes, you look for the good. Thing is not everyone is good. 

You really think Indians are the bad ones? Geez that sucks, sucks the ugly one, on how white people (and others) can't see through Indian eyes.  If you could see Through Indian Eyes, you would see beauty. The beauty of the Children, the Sky, the Earth, the Water. You wouldn't see money in everything, you wouldn't admire greed. 

If you ever get a chance to hear Indian Words,  you will hear good. You will hear them saying Thank You. Even when Indians are praying, it's always about being Thankful. Being blessed for a Gakina, everything and everyone. The People have everything they need on Earth. Why ask for more? Oh but wait, you didn't win the lottery, so you asking the God, the Allah, the Waheguru, the Jehovah, Bog, Dio and so on, to give you something? You want to win a game, so you ask in Jesus name to be on your side? Bombing people, you pray your aim is true and kill those children at school. I hope your prayers are not answered, but that's not right for me to speak like that. I do hope your eyes and ears do open. 

Through Indian Eyes is living as Anishinaabe. I wonder if I look Through Indian Eyes. I mean, I should look through Indian eyes, after all I'm Indian, Anishinaabe, one of the people. I was with my Dad driving through the mean streets of Winnipeg and we were in an area with many an Indian living "hand to mouth." They are the hurting ones, the homeless, the ill, the addicted, the challenged and we saw them. My Dad was old at this time, starting spiral of dementia. He looked sadly at the Indians on the street and started speaking Anishinaabemowin. I made out the words, Gidimaazinaagozi, they are pitiful. I loved my Dad, never said it to him, ever (legacy of Indian Boarding Schools). Dad was hurt for his people, our relatives - Indinawegaamaganidog. Through Indian Eyes, you see other human beings, not the dregs of society. Society sees them as lesser.  

You know many of Indians are not looking Through Indian Eyes. The results of not looking Through Indian Eyes, we knock each other down. We blast those trying to live the Good Life. 

Through Indian Eyes is living Mino-Bimaadiziwin, seeing everything as our Relative. If we see everyone as our Relative, we are going to try and treat them good. 

Are we looking Through Indian Eyes today? Can we learn to see look Through Indian Eyes, if we are not Indian or we were not raised Indian? 

Doesn't It Disappoint When an Indigenous Person you Meet doesn't fit the Description

 I was at a Powwow in Fisher River over 20 years ago and a Maori individual was attending the Powwow. The MC of the Powwow introduced him to the crowd. For some reason, I was there in front of the stand to greet him. We touched noses. He was White looking just like me. I remember this because he didn't look like the Maori folks we know. Needless to say, I was a little bit disappointed. I wanted him to look like the big brown tall handsome Maori folks of Aotearoa. I imagine he was disappointed to be greeted by me as well. In any case there were loads, and I mean loads of real Indian folks around for him to later meet. Powwows are known to have lots of Indians, and many are real Injuns. 

Speaking of Indians, I visit a lot with them in the Reserve (which I belong to) and it is fun, and frustrating at the same time. The Elders (not just Traditional Elders but old folks) are wonderful in sharing stories, knowledge and viewpoints. I also get to visit with the trouble folk as well, the ones living in addiction, specifically meth and crack. 

In Winnipeg there is a homeless situation where the people (mostly white folks) are appalled, disgusted, and angry that the homeless are messing up places. I get that for sure. You drive down some streets where the homeless congregate and there are tents, garbage, shopping carts, bicycle frames all over the places. Not to mention the discarded syringes on the grounds (like playgrounds in some cases and public parks). So people don't like that kind of thing. Me, I don't like it but I am not sure what could be done about it. 

You see people are funny in some ways. Not the laughing funny but peculiar. Like how my friend was; a smart person capable of dialog with anyone, even kings and queens. He had a habit. The habit was, he was comfortable with the drink. He would be sober, doing great things and then he would sabotage all he was accomplishing. He would self sabotage himself because it was uncomfortable "winning." His default was to the street life, the drink, the pills. It was how he was. He knew the taste of winning, but he was more familiar with the taste of losing. Just like how some guys thrive in jail. 

I have met many people who have served time in jail. Whether they deserved or not, I don't know. I used to tease my friend who was in jail many times, there was research study which determined ugly people got more sentence time than good looking people. I guess he got lots of time in jail. Oh anyways, the common thing about jail folk, is they never accept that it was them, who got themselves into jail. They say things like they are "turning the key on us." They say this about anyone in the system, from Indigenous guards to the Elders who work there to help them. It's a thing. "Our brothers are in there, it's a brotherhood." Meanwhile, some of them are killing our own people but yeah those are the brothers. 

Manitoba has an Anishinaabe Premier. Who would have thought it. I mean, Manitoba is not known for their love of Indigenous folk, or anyone of Colour for that matter. So having a political party choose an Indian (not India Indian cause that has happened in Canada and even a Woman too) to head their party. He, the Indian, got elected by the conservative landscape called Manitoba. And get this, he looks Indian. I mean his Mom is white  (not disrespect intended, I have met her and she is a smart strong person) but he has the looks and colour of his Dad. I think all the Indians (well not all, many call him a political prostitute) are waiting for him to do Indian stuff. I mean do something for Indians within his political purview. Like, I don't know follow the law of Point of Sales tax for Indians. Where you purchase something and it is sales tax exempt. It is law after all. Indians may not realize the Premier is leader of  the whole province and the province is mostly White. So essentially white rules the kingdom, despite who is sitting on the throne. Even if the guy is fitting the description of an Indian. This means, the Indian Premier, lord of the manor, the head honcho, the big cheese, the grandest chief, is just a minion for the true rulers of the nest. Indians should not expect anything for them really. The other thing is why should we beg a lower government for stuff, we are sovereign nations after all. 

Fitting the description is a good thing, but it is not the only thing.

Joe TwoRivers - The Forest Rangers TV show
Not an Indian 
Actor Michael Zenon of the Ukraine 

 

Big Wiggly

 I have interacted with many people over the years, from different "walks of life." I have had steaks in a doctor's home in Las Vegas, water skied in Lake Mead with White people. Witnessed "big shots" filling their glass with Hennessy, and telling the host, "you got the best bar in town."  I ate with people who were running for Judicial office in the United States. I have also seen folks take big shots of Everclear, and that is far away from the Remy Martin as one could get.  I encountered and engaged with different folk from various "stations" in society, in life. From the high Scotch drinkers to the Baby Duck connoisseur.  I visited with Lysol drinkers, beer drinkers, Holy Rollers, Jehovah's Witnesses and non-smokes. Today, much of my interaction is with Reserve members and of course my family. I look fondly on the people I interact with today. I do miss visiting many of the people in the "Ceremony Circle," many who are my relatives and friends. I think it's an age thing; you tend to stay home more and hang with your partner, the grandkids. I still think of my friends, family, cousins often, which brings up good thoughts and feelings. I'm lucky to have had those good experiences. There are some interactions which do bring me other thoughts. The meeting with many strangers where just that, strangers. You know how some strangers when you meet and visit them, you wouldn't mind being friends with them, while others you think, "douche bag." I don't really have the opportunity to sit with high rolling big shots much these days. 

I have known many a criminal, whether it was a friend who "buried a business partner in a farmers field" to (as my friend referred to them, himself included) the "cheap nickel and dime-store-hood. They were good people, except for the one little tiny mistake they made; killing someone, breaking entering, and other mistakes.  I'm not going to say they were better than the big-shots, but some of those big-wiggles were kind of creepy. Never went beyond the superficial hand shake with them, so really don't know if they were good folk or not. I don't judge but I do fucking judge. If you are a baby-raping, baby-eating, baby-killing parasite, I don't like you. At the our wedding, in my Mom and Dad's yard, their home, I invited a gentleman who killed and buried a criminal in a farmer's field. I was perfectly comfortable with him at our Reserve. He was not a parasite. Get this, he was not an Indian, but a Whiteman. Yes, even though I judge white people harshly, I did and do have White friends. I exclude them from the rest of the white world. They are fine people, good people, big hearted people. 

So much cruelty in the world and you can bet your bottom teeth it is not the lowly walking-the-mud-with-gum-boots-t-shirt-wearing people. Yeah, for sure, cruelty can be dished out by anyone. The Karen, who calls the cop on a child for selling lemonade, the cop who shoots a child playing with a toy gun, the cop who kneels on a man's neck until he is dead, the father who sexual abuses his child. Cruelty walks with us everywhere and in many different levels. I feel much of the world's cruelty is being enhanced by  the Big Wigglies, the people with uncontrolled power. The power is usually attached to wealth, the obscene wealth. The type of people who would purchase a bottle of Vodka for 3.7 million dollars. 

The Rich, the super-mega-insanely rich people are the culprits, the maggots of greed, are the engineers or cruelty. These are the Big Wiggly cruelty with zero limit. They are the baby eating, baby raping, baby murdering parasites. We live in a mad world ruled by the Rich. The Rich control the world, and control the governments of the world. The governments of the world are largely filled with political prostitutes. The men (and some women, but mostly men, white men) who sign up for public sector life are generally paid and bought for by the rich. For the rich it's a cheap deal. They get to own governments and go to bank, laughing all the way. The political whores spread anal wide for the rich, while the Rich won't even bother with lube. Big Wiggly all the way. The baby eating thing may not be actually true, but the raping culture of the rich is documented, and under age of 18 is still a child, someone's baby. They are raping babies to raping the Earth. You are just a witness. 

It is the man who says "you got the best bar in town," who is the cruel, the Big Wiggly cruel. 

Political Owned Whore 

Wonder What They Are Thinking

 I live in the City of Winnipeg, Manitoba and I drive to the Sagkeeng Anishinaabe Reserve daily. It's not too far, one and half hour drive from city to Rez. When I get into the Reserve border, I drive by Catfish Creek and many a morning there is this Eagle on a tree all by His lonesome. I guess it is a male as it is on the smaller side of the Eagle size, and Women Eagles are huge. Females have the size and dominance, so I hear. Anyways, the Eagle is by his-self in the mornings, sitting in a tree, looking away from the Lake Winnipeg and towards the highway. I wonder what this Eagle is thinking as it sits by his lonesome, looking around? He is just looking out for food? Or is he wondering, why can't I have a Woman (or partner)? Why do I have to be alone? What is the sake of siting here and not being able to share a little meal with someone? 

Society (arseholes) used to think, and some still do, that animals did not have consciousness. Better human beings know this has had to be pure bull-shit. It gives arseholes the "clean-slate" to treat animals with no regard. Thereby giving them the clear conscience to  be cruel to them - dog fighting, animal testing, locking them up in cages and every other monstrous act they feel free to do.  I was just watching a Spanish Bull Fight and saw the Bull being killed with a sword by the Matador. I felt bad for a brief moment and then the feeling and thought went away. It is just like anything else where it's "out of site, out of mind." I wonder what the Bull was thinking, was feeling? Maybe it's a mindless beast? 

You know there are Indigenous folks out there who know, they really know, that the Whole (everything) is related. So how can we think of our relatives as dimwitted creatures? People like to say "oh, they live on instinct." As if that is an excuse to not think of them as Thinking Beings. The pure arrogance of human beings. If there were not Human Beings where would the world be? I really love the analogy that we are the invasive species. Just like those Zebra Mussels. Mucking up everything they come in contact with.

We are in the world of round, of the circle. People like to demonstrate with the Circle; like a Medicine Wheel model, drawing to show connectiveness. For me, the whole Medicine Wheel thing is a Teaching Tool. It reminds us that everything is connected: seasons, directions, elements, ages, and beings. That is all there is to it. Of course there are much more Teachings to the different Circles but in the end, we are all Relatives. So stop taking down to your relatives, like they are (R-word) and beneath you. Afterall you don't know what they are thinking.

Cut Those Tipi Poles

 There is a Powwow (Treaty One area) in Winnipeg  and for some strange bizarre reason some individual or individuals, decided to take a chainsaw and cut up the Tipi poles. Is it just me that finds this really weird. 

"The 5th annual Anishinaabe Days powwow kicked off Saturday in Winnipeg bringing together dancers from across the province and beyond.The celebration at at Naawi-Oodena was clouded by an act of vandalism, as the tipi poles were cut the day before the event. “It’s unfortunate that we had an incident like that here,” said Chief Gordon Bluesky of the Brokenhead Ojibway Nation. “I don’t believe reflects all of Winnipeg and I definitely don’t believe it reflects residents of this area,” said Bluesky."  

This is a weird story and it reminded me of  the The Golden Spruce tree that was killed by this crazy guy. The Tree was not easy to get to. This guy had to swim across the water to get to the island where the Tree was standing. He really wanted to kill this tree. With the Tipi poles it is not as dramatic or as significant. The Golden Spruce was held in reverence by the Neechies (the Haida First Nation). The tipi poles were quickly replaced. The thing is this, someone or more than a someone, had to really think about what they were doing. Had to get a chainsaw, drive over to the area, pick a time where no one would be around. The area is is a high traffic area, and in an area of the City that is a little affluent (or adjacent to rich folks areas). Not that it should matter but you know how it goes. The person or persons were deliberate in what they wanted to do. I wonder what they end goal was, and what they accomplished? Was it an act of racism? Where someone(s) with so much hate, they took the time to carry out and act of vandalism with forethought to hurt someone's feelings? Was it an act by Indians themselves? You know, those Neechies who don't like Traditional ways, i.e. Christian Indian folk. Maybe they went there to make a statement, but who knows. There is this one Reserve who is rumored to outlaw Traditional practices in their community. I think this is so sad. Perhaps it was a grudge attack. Maybe someone or someones, don't like Treaty One or a person or group linked with Treaty one? 

We don't know what motivated the act. It is a small act in the big world. Really an annoyance with little significance. Tipi poles can be replaced, harvested in the bush. If you were to order a set of Tipi poles you would be looking at no less than six hundred bucks and higher to purchase. It wasn't a harmless prank. It was disheartening. It shows contempt for Our Ways, Our People, Our History, Our Community. So it is not a nothing thing. It is like someone decided to come take a shit on your doorstep. set it on fire, knocked and ran away as you come to see who it is. It was an act of disrespect, an ugly disgusting act of knowing this is messed up. Anyways I say fuck them and anyone else who smells like them. 

The Powwow is a celebration, and it is a get together of everyone. The thing about majority of Powwows, is that they are a public good. Meaning they are not a money making venture. They provide a public function, a public service for the public. The nastiness of the chainsaw action on innocent Tipi poles is like shitting on their own kitchen floor. It makes no sense.