Give and take

This morning, before sunrise, I went down to the frozen river for the water blessing. A group of us stood on the banks as we prayed to the four directions, and somebody sang and drummed to the icy river, his voice carrying over to the other bank. Then everybody walked onto the ice to pray with tobacco and left it on the surface as an offering.

Later, I heard from James that the truck driver delivering the straw bales had called. The bales were ordered from Minnesota because it is so hard to find someone local who is willing to deliver to the camps at Standing Rock. While locals on the reservation are mainly supportive, there has been much hostility in surrounding areas, particularly Bismarck, with store owners refusing to serve or deliver goods, and worse, there has been threatening and unpleasant behaviour from others. Bear in mind that to this day it is legal in North Dakota to shoot an Indian on horseback so long as you are in a covered wagon. 

The truck driver was half way there when he called and announced that the price had doubled. James looked crestfallen. We all were. That someone would not only be willing to lose money on the fuel was shocking. That he could so dishonour his own word was disheartening. There was no attempt at negotiating. 'That's highway robbery,' said Donna in the kitchen. 'Send him back on the highway!'

It was a bitter moment and particularly so because James had intended to make the driver really welcome, to offer him a meal and a room up at the hotel. 'I want him to see what's going on here, and for him to take back word about what people are actually like.'

We will be looking for another delivery, of course. What strikes me about this is that it is impossible to do something like this without hurting oneself. We all live in the same waters. 

The day before, I saw a delivery of some wonderful things: warm fleece balaclavas, energy bars, safe camping heaters, and I saw what an effect those donations had upon people, lifting their spirits. The camps are all thriving thanks to others generosity. There is plenty of food everywhere, which means that anyone on the camp can walk into any kitchen and be offered food. I'm not sure that I have got across how very hard most people work, whether they are in the kitchens, on the healing and medic teams, in construction or on security. There are endless logs to chop, there is always more snow to melt to wash endless dishes and more snow to shovel. The fact that the camps have been so generously supported, makes all this energy possible. 

I've been thinking too about what the grandmas have been saying. Grandma energy is rising. The earth is our mama, our grandma. I think of how I treated my own grandmothers: with much love and respect. It would have been unthinkable to snatch or steal from either of them. They were endlessly generous with their love and made an art of cherishing me. I always loved how they used to say, 'yes, of course you shall, my darling,' when I asked for something. (It was usually something to eat!) And that is how we need to treat our Earth, with the same respect, love and deference. She needs to be honoured. She feeds us, provides us with all we have. It is time to stop carving her up, ripping out her 'resources' and fouling her clean waters. It's time to give something back to her: to feed her soils, to honour her with ceremony and thanks, to know when we have had enough., to stop taking so much. We need to treat her like the generous grandma she is. 

I came up to the hotel to post this, and I met James and Anis, who were staying here and they offered me a shower in their bathroom. I cannot express how good the hot water felt! Giving thanks for clean water.  

If I don't manage to post again before Christmas, let me wish you all a very happy and abundant Christmas. I will be thinking of my family and friends and missing them, and celebrating here with new friends. Sending love to you all.  

Drying corn