"O" no, I seem to still be doing the backwards alphabet or ǝpısdn uʍop.
Out there, there's an ocean of opportunity waiting for you, waiting for me. With an open mind and a song in our heart, we embrace the goals, beyond the green, beyond the beach and outwards to the sea. Life and the ocean of diversity that awaits. An ocean of possibilities, of dreams, of passion, of aspirations that you can, that I can, fulfil.
In the teeming ocean that is humanity, may we move on from stigma, from bias, from the apathy and indifference that plagues society. We can learn. Learn to understand. And through awareness and celebrating an all different, all equal world, we move that one step closer to a planet of peace.
Within the orchestra of understanding, we all have the instruments to create sweet music. In the chorus of caring, we all have the voices that sing in joyous harmony. "O" is the ocean of serenity.
Nature and respecting the balance that is essential to all life. I nurture my appreciation of nature's natural balance. I rejoice in the magic that is "klahanie". Klahanie is a word from the Chinook tribe who reside in the Pacific Northwest of North America. The definition of klahanie is generally accepted as meaning, "the great outdoors." The spirit of the noble indigenous First Nation's people lives within my heart and soul.
When I went on a walk with the West Coast tribes of British Columbia, on a one hundred mile, three day walk, a wide-eyed fifteen year old boy, learnt the lessons of being as one with nature. From Vancouver to the fittingly named town of Hope, British Columbia, we walked together, in unity on the profound journey that was "Moccasin Miles."
Between the trees in the great outdoors, flies the freedom we can know. Peace to you, my friend in an "N" is for nature and a natural balance world.
Showing posts with label Moccasin. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Moccasin. Show all posts
Saturday, 13 April 2013
Saturday, 22 March 2008
Tribes and Tributes. Part Two.



April 4th, 1969, a rainy Good Friday morning. We had gathered at the steps of Vancouver City Hall, all united in the same cause; To help the native people; To increase awareness of their plight.
This was the start of the most memorable Easter weekend of my life. We prepared ourselves for day one of our three day, one hundred mile walk. 'Moccasin Miles' had begun and this fifteen your old lad was thrilled with the anticipation of the great adventure that lay before us.
Through the incessant pouring rain, we finally reached out first destination. Completely drenched, it was so comforting to be inside the warm shelter of Langley Secondary High School. Our first day's travel had brought us almost thirty miles east of Vancouver. Time to relax, time to dry out and prepare ourselves for a night that will be firmly engrained in the minds of so many.
That evening, in the high school gymnasium, we were treated to a 'Pow Wow'. Pow Wow, a sensory delight of dancing, music and a traditional native people's feast. The chants, the festive and spiritual songs, were of joy and celebration. The pounding of the native drums had a powerful effect on this young, wide-eyed, teenage boy. Humanity, from all walks of life, bonded that night in respect and admiration for the tribes of British Columbia.
It was getting late, the Pow Wow drew to a conclusion. It was time to get some sleep, we slept in classrooms. I headed into a room and found a spot to place my sleeping bag. I looked around and realised I was the only white person in the room. All around me were native people from the great tribes of British Columbia.
I felt no discomfort being the only white guy in that classroom. Why should I? Then the good-natured banter began. They noticed me and proceeded to mention a sign that had been placed on the window of the classroom door. "Think you had better read the sign on the door" they chuckled. Clambering over a collection of sleeping bags, I stumbled to the door and read the sign. 'No white men allowed', it stated. Upon my reading it, everyone in the room started to laugh. I laughed too, it was just a bit of fun.
That night in the classroom, we broke down the barriers, we knew that to stigmatise someone because of the colour of their skin, or the sterotypes society had imposed, was to devalue them as human beings. I like to think that I base my perceptions on how people are towards me. To pass judgement, based on misconceptions, is a crime on humanity. Reflecting upon that wonderful day, I drifted off to sleep, the sound of the native drums, a gentle lull in my mind.
I call upon the First Nation's people. May your spirituality continue to inspire me.
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