For all my relations

When I was at Standing Rock, the phrase I heard most frequently, even more often than mni wiconi (water is life) was aho mitakuye oyasin, which could be translated as 'we are all related' or ' for all my relations'. It was repeated throughout prayers and meetings, a signal not only that someone had started to speak and must not be interrupted, it also marked when they had finished speaking. It was repeated back to them to affirm that what they said had been heard. The words also bookended whatever was said with this acknowledgement of the inter-relatedness of all beings. Aho mitakuye oyasin affirms that we have truly heard that person and their unique point of view, even though it may be quite different to ours, that we acknowledge not only that we are related to them, but to everything and everybody else. 

We are all related.

It means that we are related not just to other human beings, but to worms and slugs as well as eagles, to amoebas as well as to deer, to jelly fish as well as daisies and roses, to brambles and toadstools and nettles as well as to great redwoods and rainbows. It means that we are related to the oceans and the stars and the moon, to volcanos, to the earth and to the sun, to the air, the fire and the water.

It means we are related not only to our biological family and our friends, to those we love and to our compatriots, but also to the most annoying, dangerous and stupid people, to our enemies, to those people we would rather separate from ourselves with an ocean. To Hitler as well as to Nelson Mandela, to Stalin as well as Jesus and Rosa Parks, to Donald Trump as much as to the sweetest, most lovable child.

We are all related. It is not almost all of us are related.

When I came home from Standing Rock, almost the first thing I did was to get the flu. Being out there in such cold and tough conditions was very physically demanding on most people there. Everybody had coughs and colds and were it not for the powerful mission and purpose in being there, I think more people would have physically given in. When I first arrived, it was colder there than it was on Mars! 

As well as my body surrendering to exhaustion once I was home, it was quite an adjustment to leave a place where there was such a vibrant network of support and care. Yes, the dynamics are complicated and conflicted at times, there are politics and power plays. There are challenges and serious concerns. Nonetheless, most people help each other out and take care of each other really well. Every day. And all this away from any money. Nobody is trying to sell or buy anything, which changes things a lot. Being surrounded by all the donations of food and firewood, clothes and accommodation is humbling and levelling. Our place in the scheme of things, the truth of aho mitakuye oyasin and mni wiconi are affirmed aloud every single day.

As I rested and recovered at home, I listened to the radio, watched the news and read about President Trump's first week in office. He had wasted no time signing executive orders, waging war on Obamacare, on women's rights, the environment, on Mexico, the arts and on refugees. When I saw a photograph of him backed by a lineup of entirely male aides as he signed an order which banned funding in any way associated with abortions, it made my blood boil and I knew that it wasn't just the flu. When a day later, he signed another executive order paving the way for fast tracking the Keystone pipeline and the Dakota Pipeline, even the way he emphasised and repeated the word 'pipeline' as if to taunt, the way he signed with such a smug flourish made me want to spit with rage. The easy way he held his pen, how casual. How offensive every minute expression on his face. How maddening that he has such power. I felt such violent rage, so impotent, so depressed and helpless. So afraid. To think of the wanton damage he and his administration are capable of so glibly causing our planet and all the life upon it. And then he spoke up for torture. Another kick in the gut. Of course he believes in torture. 

And where does all this take me? It's as if I'm in some awful relationship which has entirely broken down, where if I put my attention on looking for the next dreadful thing he has done, I will always come up with something to confirm my worst thoughts. He never disappoints in this regard. I feel like he knows what is going to get to me. How can it all feel so personal? And then of course, just like when you find you are screaming at someone to listen, or shouting at them for shouting at you, this whole approach leaves me feeling backed into a corner. This isn't really who I want to be. It certainly isn't how I want to feel.

The thing is, once you take on something as profound as mitakuye oyasin, you cannot forget it. It's so radical. You cannot make it only partially true when convenient. What made my experience at Standing Rock so powerful was that the people I really respected, included in their prayers those who oppose them, those who hurt them, pepper sprayed them, hosed them down with water in freezing conditions, those who fired rubber bullets at them, those who put them in cages, treated them like criminals, who lied about them; they genuinely included those people in their prayers. Their prayers are for the water and for the earth. It isn't a war with a good side and a bad side, with an enemy to beat down. We all need water. We are all in this together. What is good for my descendants is good for yours, what is good for the earth is good for Donald Trump's descendants. We are no different in our needs.

Rather in the way that when the 'good news' was announced back in December, that some thought the case at Standing Rock had been 'won' and it did not seem that straightforward to me, neither do I think it has been 'lost' yet. I feel concerned at what might happen out there, for I know that those people standing for the water will not back down and that they will protect that water with their lives. I worry about how 'the law' will be enforced now that Trump is in power. But there are legal processes to go through regardless of who is in power. It isn't over yet.

It is so clear that Donald Trump is insecure. Only extremely insecure people need to assert themselves and endlessly prove their strength, need to bully and dominate so obviously. Only people who were acutely hurt when they were very young, who feel so profoundly unlovable are that narcissistic. So really, he needs prayers more than anyone. It is easy to pray for those I love, to want good things for them. It is harder to truly pray for someone who makes me so angry and afraid. I just want to make clear that when I talk about praying, I'm not talking about speaking a religious language. I don't belong to a church other than that of Nature. None of this negates the need to stand up, to be inspired to take action, to march, to say yes, to say no, to assert and defend rights. But there is only one way out of feeling so small and impotent and livid, where I don't like Donald Trump or myself, or what has happened to us.

Deep breath.

It is to accept Donald Trump as my brother. To accept him as a relation of mine. To accept that we are all related. It so goes against the grain and feels so radical. But this is what I summon myself to do, it is what makes me feel better, it is what feels makes me feel like there is room for change. I can't be half baked about this or do this with my fingers crossed behind my back; I have to do this fully, I must include all the bits of him I most resist, to welcome the bits he most resists.

I pray that Donald Trump may have clean water to drink and plenty of good food to eat. I pray that he feels safe and protected under clean skies. That he may feel so loved and happy that he can breathe a big sigh of relief. I pray that he awakens to how much he loves others and by how much he is loved, that he may dance for joy with how connected he feels to nature and animals and people. May he be surrounded with goodness. May tears of joy roll down his face at the beauty of life, of music and of nature, may he be blown away by the beauty of colours all around him and at the intelligence in the breeze playing upon his beloved cheek. I pray that he can trust that he has his place here, that he knows that we are all related. I pray that he may feel at peace.

I pray for all those things for him and for you, for me and for everyone. 

Aho mitakuye oyasin.