LONG ROAD HOME (5)

By Steven “Walks On The Grass” Maisenbacher
Photo by Gabriela Palai on Pexels.com

Part 1 – Spiritual Journey Toward Addiction Recovery

Chapter 5

Depression, Music & Brotherhood

There are many things that can bring you sickness and illness. Some of them we never even think about until it’s too late. When I first came to prison I just knew I had to have some tattoos, so I got them – and something far more serious. Evidently the tattoo artist wasn’t as clean or professional as he claimed. I was in Phoenix when they called me into medical to tell me my blood work had tested positive for Hepatitis C. It would take years for me to start feeling tired all the time and sick more often than I had ever been. Then I had to complain to medical repeatedly for several more years before I was finally approved for the treatment.

While in Beaumont, the medical staff determined that my Hepatitis C had reached a level that would allow them to initiate Interferon treatments. After being evaluated by Psychology to see if I could mentally withstand the treatment I was scheduled for a consultation with an oncologist from the University of Texas Medical Branch (UTMB) contracted by the B.O.P.  Before my appointment, I was given counseling by the medical staff to kinda sorta prepare me for what was to come, and what to expect. They were nowhere near the mark on how the treatments would affect me.

I’ve had my share of down moods, but the depression that came over me was the worst I’ve ever experienced. I’m normally a moderately happy man but I  have got to say, this about whipped me and I nearly tapped out several times during the course of the treatment. I hear now it’s a lot easier and the side effects have been resolved by refining the medications, but when I took it back in 2009 it was brutal. I had to take pills in the morning, pills in the evening, every day, and on Thursday evening I would go to medical at 7pm for a shot of what I believe was Interferon.

On a good day, the food at Beaumont Low is hardly fit to eat anyway, but now my meals became unbearable. Everything I ate had a nasty, metallic taste, like copper pennies in my mouth or a nail. For months my diet consisted largely of the only two things that tasted good – cherry cough drops and butter pecan ice cream.

How can I say that the “what if’s” of the situation devastated me any plainer than to say a TV commercial could make me break down in tears. There were no guarantees, so just the thought that maybe I’d be undergoing all this, like I had the worst kind of flu for 10 months non-stop and then find out my body didn’t respond to the treatment. Was I going to be left to the end that Hep C eventually and always is for those who get it, have it, and don’t get it treated?

I was of course still required to live within the rules of the institution, which meant I had to continue working and keeping the cell clean and all the normal stuff. But when you’re sick, when you are just bone-wrenchingly sore and physically exhausted you don’t want to do anything except lay down and hope for sleep so you are not aware of how cruddy you feel.

During this time, I wrote some really poignant music and lyrics. The ordeal let me tap into a part of my mind that I never knew I could write from. I was amazed at the depth and clarity in which songs could pinpoint my feelings and put them out there in written form. Not only did these lyrics help me understand what I was going thru, but oddly enough others who read and heard the songs could as well. The concerts that my “Old School Band” put on at Beaumont were always packed with guys looking to find some healing and some release through the music.

Guys in prison are the hardest audience in the world to get appreciation from. For the most part they are jaded and skeptical, critical and definite in what they like, and most assuredly in what they don’t like or think is garbage. My songs cover a range as broad as a suicide note (Footnote) or an adventure in the olden days of piracy. But we weren’t just doing my songs, we had a gang of cover songs in there as well, some more meaningful than others, like “Without You” by Harry Nilsson, and Fire Lake by Bob Seger, or Boogie Shoes by K.C. and The Sunshine Band, complete with piano by Mike White.

Mike went on to Petersburg, VA and ended up writing a book. I read it, wasn’t bad but a lot of the prison books are kind of silly in reality because all the crud you think about being typical prison stuff just doesn’t really go on. Sure there are bad behaviors, but that’s everywhere. Prison doesn’t have a monopoly on “bad” and I assure you, I have never seen a prison rape. Do they happen? Evidently they do and its horrible that humans would treat other humans in that way. Some humans are exactly where they belong. They will never redeem themselves nor be of worth to society or the world at large and I’m glad they are right here where they are with me so I can keep an eye on them and they can’t reign down any horrid behaviors on society. Enough of that, back to depression, music and brotherhood.

See, while undergoing the “treatment” I was forbidden to participate in the sweat lodge ceremonies or be in direct sunlight or extreme heat, so the brothers used to do the pipe ceremony before the sweat lodge ceremony and have me sit inside the door to the lodge in order to be out of the sun, but still be able to sing the pipe songs and pray with the pipe. Then there was a corner of the grounds that had a little concrete picnic table. They strung a sheet over it and I would sit under it in the shade working on the drumsticks, or rattles, or making medicine bags or learning new songs while the brothers were inside the lodge for the Inipi Kaga (We live).

All in all, the time I was under treatment being healed I was also in the lodge area and under healing by the compassion of the brothers who always made a way to keep me included and involved in the ceremonies. I ended up going thru a lot of mental and emotional changes during those months. While no prison is a “good” prison, some are better than others and some chaplains are better than others in actually wanting to aid you in your spiritual endeavors, as well as filling the job description. I’m grateful for that.

When I was done with the treatment and being seen for the last time by the oncologist, my diagnosis had changed to “no detectable virus.” The doctor even told me that my blood work results showed I had a lower viral load than he himself did. It has now been more than a decade since that treatment and several years since I performed any of the songs I wrote during that time, but I will never forget the fact that I had those feelings and thoughts, or that I was so sick it took a lodge ground, my Native brothers, and always the music to get me through it.

To the brothers that helped me during and thru this time of hardship, Mike Wheeler, Mike Duran, Ricardo Flores, just to name the main ones, the rest of you know who you are. Definitely the Creator knows your names and saw your hearts reach out to a brother who needed you and your strength.

As for the music, well, she is the one love of my life that has never left me wanting. By that I mean I can take it anywhere, anytime, any style or level of complexity, any volume or instruments, all in my head. Crazy, I’m still to this day not sure how I’m able to just sit down and write a song, knowing the melody that fits to the lyrics, but I can and I believe it’s a gift from the Creator.

I also didn’t know I could do this – write out my experience – but thanks to the urgings of my amazing cousin “Sings Many Songs” and support of my cousin “Ghost Dancer,” here I am doing it with little to no provocation. I’m sure that I’m missing something or that I could have fleshed out something more, but as it is I think you will get the gist of what I went thru, how it felt and how thankful I am to be healed of this silent killer, Hepatitis C. To this day I still have “no detectable virus” and that’s a good thing, even if I would just shake my head in a non-committal way if asked if it was all worth it…

WHITE NOISE

Step into my mind and watch it fade to black,

Just like a bad trip, you might not make it back,

Stare into a looking glass to see what you can find,

I’ll be staring back at you, every single time,

Don’t close your eyes, it’s just an illusion,

Finding your way is the ultimate confusion.

Pitching away, tossing and turning,

Rolling away, smoky eyes burning,

talking thru the minutes as I fade away,

this is the way I feel today.

Out on the edge, that is where I am going,

Anywhere else is just too damn boring,

Just my sort of thought, maybe I’m crazy,

But to not fight the fight seems pretty damn lazy.

Pitching away, tossing and turning,

Rolling away, smoky eyes burning,

Talking thru the minutes it takes to fade away,

Can’t complain, you asked how I feel today.

I won’t look back, or step over the edge,

I won’t get too close to losing my head.

Just realize we’re only finding our power,

Watching it slip away, measured by hours,

Don’t close your eyes in hopes of a solution,

Don’t fill your head with white noise pollution,

Just smile for yourself and carry on,

After all I am only the words of this song…

White Noise © 2009 Steven Maisenbacher (Walks On The Grass)

Steven Maisenbacher “Walks”

“The vision will steal the wind from your lungs. All your mistakes, all your tragedies, all your disasters, meltdowns, failures, heartaches, you’ll see that they were an opus.” ~ Sean Dietrich “Your Life”

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LONG ROAD HOME (4)

By Steven “Walks On The Grass” Maisenbacher
Photo by Gabriela Palai on Pexels.com

Part 1 – Spiritual Journey Toward Addiction Recovery

Chapter 4

Talking Donkey

Man, what a perfect day for this story, raining and nasty, but cleansing and needed, kinda like Jimmy…

I was on a Con Air flight from Coleman Medium in Florida to Beaumont Low in Texas. Now Con Air isn’t like the silly movie, but the air marshals will fix your wagon if you act up. So we’re flying along and from somewhere in front of me I hear loud and clear, “Why son you’re nothing but a stinkin’ rat, you snitched on all your friends, don’t you tell me another word, shut your mouth and don’t talk to me!”

Immediately I’m thinking, damn, that guy’s gonna get some tape to the mouth or tazed if the marshals catch him for what he said to that other guy. So we finish the flight and were in the receiving and classification cages in Beaumont, going thru the rigamarole of interviews and questionnaires and medical and whatnot, when I hear that voice in the cage with me that addressed the stinkin’ rat on the plane. I hear him saying, “I don’t know nothin’ ‘bout no prison or no politics.”

Yep same voice, same country bumpkin drawl, so knowing now who this guy is I sidle up to him and strike up a conversation, “Look it ain’t my business but I think I heard you telling a guy on the plane that he was a rat and on and on.”

He confirms it and explains how the guy was trying to tell him why he told on a bunch of people to get a lesser sentence and all that. So as we’re talking, I learn his name is Jimmy and I tell him about what I’ve seen the marshals do to people on those planes for acting up or even talking loud.

He tells me he has never been in trouble before except the one time out of boot camp before they sent him to Vietnam and even then that didn’t land him in no prison.

I asked him what he did and he told me, “Well son, I had me a little electric company and I was giving my customers these cable converter boxes as gifts with the bigger accounts.” They got him for communications violations and cable piracy; he had a sentence of 24 months or some such slap on the wrist.

So we continue our way thru the chaos that is intake in a federal prison, finally get to the cell block where we are assigned, and they stick us in the “chicken coop.” This is a big room, with a bunch of beds where they put the new guys till they can get them sorted and into cubes. Anyway, when we walked in, there was the usual “greeting committee,” you know the ones, the fools who think they are tough, or the gang bangers trying to see who is who, or the predators looking for an easy mark.

Now understand, Beaumont is a “political” yard, meaning informants, sexual offenders or homosexuals will have a tough time, and they have to stay out of the way and in their own areas. We had been traveling since like 3 am the day before; it’s now after midnight the next day, I’m tired and all I want to do is catch my rack till morning then go find the pipe carrier for the Natives to announce my presence there.

But no, here come the tough guys – “Where ya from? Who are you? What kind of case do you have? Is your paperwork straight? You’re not a child molester are ya? What kind of time do ya have? How long you been down?”

“No, No, No, we’re not playing this game. First of all, I’m Native so get me a Native or get out of my face with your BS. I promise you’ll know who I am before long anyway, now excuse me…good night.”

Wait a second, I see a couple of the white-boy-wanna-be-supremists have got the old man I was talking to kind of hemmed up in the corner grilling him and kind of putting some pressure on him, so I walk over.

“Is there a problem here fellas?”

I’m told it ain’t my business.

I say it is, “The old man’s with me, he’s my people and we’ll talk to the Native spokesman or the pipe carrier, until then, goodnight.”

We move on into the chicken coop and make our beds. I can see Jimmy is visibly shook up and I tell him, “Listen, I don’t know you but I’m taking you on your word about not being a sex offender.  If anyone asks, tell them you are with Walks On The Grass, anyone at all.”

He says, “OK” and tells me the one boy, Cecil was telling him he was gonna be bringing him a list of items that he was going to have to get for him as “rent” and security on this yard.

I told Jimmy to forget it, so we go on to sleep. Morning arrives and we go to chow for breakfast. I didn’t see any Natives, so after we eat I go on out to the yard past the sweat lodge to see if any Natives are there. There are, and I found out there are two groups. One group is “clean” and the other are “chil mos” (child molesters).

I leave a message for the pipe carrier that I’m here and looking for him then go on to the yard, to check out the band rooms and all. By the time I got back to the unit  it’s been a couple hours and I found Jimmy sitting on his bed looking worried. He has a piece of paper in his hands. I said, “Hey buddy, what’s wrong?”

“Well, that boy Cecil that you told to leave me alone came down here and gave me this list; told me I better have these things on commissary day or else I would have to leave here.”

Instantly I got heated and told Jimmy to give me the list, “I’ll take care of this.”

See, after the confrontations of the night before when we got there and all, I was damned mad and couldn’t get to sleep. So I get up and go to the bathroom. It’s communal with several stalls, urinals and a separate communal wash room with several sinks. When I walked in, there was a guy shaving his head. I had noticed him in the room earlier when we walked in. He was watching the others grill me and Jimmy.

So he speaks to me, “Hey man, I can see by your way that you been down, you know this is a political yard and the fellas are just trying to see who is who, don’t take that shit personal.”

I introduce myself as does he and I ask who the pipe carrier is. He tells me, “Duran.”

I asked him who he runs with. He tells me the name of a very well-known group of whites and says the name of their “shot caller.” It was a man I have known for a long, long time, so I asked him to go to Clint and tell him “Walks On The Grass” is here.

Needless to say he did, so when I get back to the unit to find that Jimmy had not been let alone, I just walk down the tier to Clint’s cube and tell him what has gone on, that I had told his fellas that Jimmy was with me and now I’m finding out this fool Cecil is trying to pressure Jimmy. I asked him what he is going to do.

Clint got pretty angry over the whole thing, told me they had told Cecil to tone his actions down and to stay out of other people’s way. Said he would take care of it and took the list from me that Cecil had given Jimmy. He said to tell Jimmy that he needn’t worry about it or anything else from his people and that he had a good friend in Walks.

Now here we are mid-week, it’s store day. I was going to go after lunch but decided to go early. I knew Jimmy hadn’t been able to get a phone call to his daughter yet to have money sent because the counselor told him it would be Friday before he could give him a free 15-minute call to contact his people and all. So when I went to the store I got two of everything vital, 2 cups, 2 bowls, toothbrushes and paste, bags of coffee, etc. I come back to the cell and get my stuff out, then step over to Jimmy’s bunk and hand him a bag.

He kind of freaked out a bit; didn’t know I was going to do this and he was really happy to not have to go another week without, waiting on his own money.

I told him to just pay me back, to the assurances of, “Oh I will, now ya gotta know I will, Walks, thank you! blah blah blah…”

Anyway, I left to go out to see some of the Native fellas and hang out at the lodge area, for an hour or two. When I get back to the block there’s Jimmy, sitting on his bed with a huge bag of commissary, what looks to be $50 to $75-worth of stuff; cookies, food, soups, coffee, shower shoes, all sorts of stuff, and Jimmy sitting there looking at it with a look of bewilderment on his face that you just knew was worry-invoked.

I say, “Hey buddy, what’s all this?”

He says, “Well, I was just sittin’ here listenin’ to your radio cuz you told me I could listen to it if I wanted and that boy, Cecil came in with two of them other boys behind him, and he set this bag on my bed and said, ‘This is for you Mr. Coleman, from me and I’m sorry for any problems or worry I may have caused.’ Then one of them other boys reached over and gave him a slap on the back of his head and they left, it’s the damndest thing I ever did see, Walks.”

Well, you know, Clint and the boys had made Cecil come up with the store and give it to Mr. Jimmy.

I gave Jimmy the name “Donkey,” used to tell him he was the only talking donkey in North America. He was just an old white man who had no business in my world of prisons and politics and gangs and such. He used to come with me out to the lodge and sit at the picnic table while we had our sweats. Jimmy was a good man. Of all the hundreds of people who have told me over the 37 years of my captivity, “Man, I’m gonna look out for you when I get out,” only a handful have, actually less than a handful, but Jimmy did.

He is gone now, beyond sorrow, and I cried when I got the news.  Jimmy Coleman was a good man, he was a veteran of a war that we should never have been in, he came back from southeast Asia, a decorated war hero. He made a life, had a family and raised two beautiful daughters.

When I knew him Jimmy had a wonderful fiancé who stood by his side thru trials that most people would cringe from. Chrissy was the perfect fit for Donkey, she held him up till the end. I may have more to say about him later but for now just know this, as you read this sentence, there are tears in my eyes when I think of the man, what a warm and wonderful, cantankerous, stubborn, swamp donkey – Jimmy Coleman from Epps, Louisiana. Rest with the ancestors my friend, you are sorely missed.

RIDE FOR THE SUN

It wasn’t so long ago, we would ride for the fun,
but time changes everything when you run from the gun.

They sent many men after us, and we slipped those we could
but the sheriffs caught up with us so we shot it out where we stood.

Bandits they called us, outlaws on the run,
the noose always haunting us, so we ride for the sun...

Left a trail of burnt wagon trains, filled our pockets with gold,
left no sign to track us with, except the legends they told...

Now we travel the trail of tears, death rides at our sides,
with no one to turn to now, with nowhere to hide...

Bandits they called us, outlaws on the run,
The noose always chasing us, so we ride for the sun,
Bandits they call us, outlaws on the run,
The noose always hunting us, so we ride for the sun...

Walks >>>>-------------->
© Steven “Walks On The Grass” Maisenbacher Feb. 9, 2020
Steven Maisenbacher “Walks”

“One day, you will stand on a great precipice and see your life from the reverse viewpoint and suddenly, bam, you’ll get it.” ~ Sean Dietrich “Your Life”

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Ancient Symbolism in Art & Legend

Sun Circle, Eye-Hand, Tie Snake Medallion

By Ghost Dancer

Tie Snake Medallion by Ghost Dancer

The all-seeing eye of Pucase Hesaketv (Master of Breath and Life) placed on the back of the hand indicates the eye never sleeps and a closed fist can never hide the truth.

The hand represents the spirit of the Mvskoke people. The hand of the people can be loving, giving, protecting, or reaching and striking in all directions.

Rattlesnakes represent sacred guardians and protectors. A rattlesnake gives warning to back up, respect my area or I will strike. It is the same in this symbol; respect the area of the Mvskoke person or people or they will strike as fast and as deadly as the rattlesnake.

Tied together, the snakes completely surround everything in our world, protecting our territory, and the color yellow signifies death to those who violate this protection.    

Notice there are only 4 buttons on each snake. These represent the sacred number 4; the 4 elements, 4 seasons, 4 stages of life, 4 directions, etc. The color, white in the center represents the purity and sacredness of love, peace and balance. The color red symbolizes love of Spirit, our people, and our land. It also represents honor, the sun and the east.

The Mvskoke were the dominant peoples of the Creek Confederation. Together they were a huge nation and all nations respected and feared them for their skills, knowledge, and determination.

Inspiration: Motif from the “Rattlesnake Disk,” a circular sandstone disk found at the prehistoric site of Moundville, Alabama. Two-needle beading technique – One needle is threaded and strung with beads for the design. The second needle is used to sew down the beads, allowing the creation of curves. Neckpiece – wood, shell, bone, and other natural materials. © Ghost Dancer 2015

Southeastern Creek Indian Tie Snake Legend Lost in Time… almost…
The story…

This story was told by Peter Ewing (1860-1932) Ewing was from Hichiti tribal town, Wind clan. He served many years as a Baptist minister and was Chief of the Muscogee (Creek) Nation in 1931. This story is taken from the book “Creek (Muskogee) Texts” by Haas/Hill and made possible by Jack Martin.

The Singing River (Hvcce Yvhikv)

Hvcce Yvhikv oh-onvkv ocet omes.
There is a story about the Singing River.

Momis mv hvccen okhoyvte kerreskot os.
But the river that is meant is not known.

Hvcce hocefkv kerreskot ont os.
The name of the river is not known.

Momis este-Maskoke ennak onvkv-vculet omes.
But it is an old-time Creek story.

Tvlofv-cule vpokof, onvkv kerken sawvtet omes.
When they were living in the old country, the story was known, and they brought it out.

Onvkv hiyomen vlicecet os.
The story begins like this.

Hofonof estet fullvtes maket os.
A long time ago there were some people, [the story] goes.

Hocefkv Yvmasvlke maket omes.
Their name was Yamasalki [‘humble/peaceful ones’].

Este sulkemahet omvtes.
There were very many of them.

Momet eyaskvtet horre etvlwv etv enhayetv yacekot omakvtes.
And they were meek and did not wish to make war on other tribes [etvlwv].

Este elecetv yacvkekot omet herkuset omakvtes.
They did not want to kill people and were very peaceful.

Mv momat omecicen, etvlwvt etv sasat assecet pvsatvtes.
For that reason, there was another tribe that chased them and killed them.

Momen vwahehocen fullvtetot, hvtvm etoh-vtelohket fullet omvtes.
And they were scattered about and again came back together.

Momen pvsvthoyen ayen nvcumuse hakvtes.
And they kept being killed until only a few remained.

Momet fullet hvcce rakke onvpvn nvkaftvtes.
Then going about, they met on the banks of a big river.

Estomet ohhvtvlakat fullvranat monkat eyoksicvranat omvlkvt etem punahoyet fvccecvranet omvtes.
They all talked about how they would go about increasing or come to an end and were to decide.

Monkv honvntake, hoktvkeu, hopuetakuce omvlkvt nvkaftet omvtes.
So the men, women too, and little children all met.

Ennvcumkv omecicen eyvniceko tayet omekv, enhorret em vfuloten pvlken fulecen omis, pvsvthoyvranet tvlken kerraket.
Because of their small number, they could not help themselves, and they knew if they went back with their enemies surrounding them, they were sure to be killed.

Hvcce tvyecetvn hopuetakucet akpvsatketok:
If they crossed the river, the little children would drown:

Estometv kerrvkekates.
They didn’t know what to do.

Momen espoke fvccecakat okaket
Then they decided at last, saying,

“Omvlkvkat etehvlvthayet, yvhiket uewv enlvoke off min esakceyepvkes” mahket
“Let all of us hold hands and enter the depths of the water singing instead,”

Honvntake, hoktvke, hopuetakuce omvlkvt etehvlvthayet yvhiket uewv sakceyvtes.
And all the men, women, and children entered the water holding hands and singing.

Yvhikakat pohken ayen cvyayakvtes maket the oh-onvkvt omes.
They could be heard singing and then, after a time, they grew quiet, the story relates.

Estvmv hvccen maketvo sekon, yvhiketv estomen yvhikaket omvte kerretv sekot omes.
What river it is, is not said; which song they sang is not known.

Momis yvhiketv heren yvhikaket tvlkes komhoyet omvtes,
But it’s bound to have been a good song that they sang, it’s thought,

este heraket omat ‘stelecetv yacekot omakvtetok.
for they were fine people who didn’t wish to kill people.

Momet ehocefkv Yvmasvlke maket omekv,
And their name was Yamasalki [‘humble/peaceful ones’],

mont est’ vkvsvmepuecet omes.
and it leads anyone to believe it

Mv estvlke akhvtvpecvtetis yvhikakan pohket omis, okhohyes kometv omes.
The thought is that those people who went down into the water might have been heard singing.

The rest of the story…
Ghost Dancer

A big part of the story was left out, the part where the tie snakes saved their lives. The story is about the tie snakes and these snakes sing because of it. These magical snake beings have many stories about them. Some say this was the Suwannee River. Some say it was the Flint River in Georgia. But others say it was the Mulberry River in Alabama. It is considered to be the Mulberry because they say at a certain spot the children can still be heard singing. This is where the Locust Fork and the Mulberry Rivers come together in Blount County, Alabama. Not far from there was a Hitchiti town and the children were instructed by the tie snakes that they were to always sing when they gathered the mulberries and none of them would ever drown.

These were told to me by my Great Aunt Leathee and by extended grandmother, Ruby Tiger Osceola (Grandma Ruby) when I was a young boy. Ghost

Editor’s Note: Here is an example of the way many of the old stories and legends of the Southeastern Creek Peoples were lost or altered during and after the 1836 Creek removal. I am never surprised by the knowledge Ghost Dancer holds. Ghost is a treasure even if only a few recognize it or give him the honor he is due. It’s time we remember the whole story. epd

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LONG ROAD HOME (3)

By Steven “Walks On The Grass” Maisenbacher
Photo by Gabriela Palai on Pexels.com

Part 1 – Spiritual Journey Toward Addiction Recovery

Chapter 3

Still There is Music in My Head

It wasn’t much after the interview that I was granted a transfer to FCI Coleman, Florida, closer to home or “nearer release,” a bureau-speak way to say closer to where you’re from. My mom was getting older and becoming more and more reliant on my brother, Mike. I had not seen Mom since my trial, so I wanted to be where I could maybe see her one more time before she passed beyond sorrow. She had been given a wheelchair and an oxygen supply by this time and we all knew it wasn’t going to be too many more years before she left us.

I was transferred and arrived in Coleman FL, FCI Medium in April of 2005. It was wonderful to me; the sweat lodge grounds were beautiful with trees and plants and a gazebo to keep us out of the sun and rain if we wanted. The gate was always unlocked and we were allowed to go out and just be in the area anytime the yard was open. It was truly a paradise compared to some of the places I had been. The brothers were all fine people for the most part and we had a really good group. We would come together and cook meals over the little fire pit and just all in all enjoy the fellowship. The band rooms and music program there were excellent as well and it wasn’t long before I was singing with a band and jamming a couple times a week.

August 2006 came and I was very excited that my brother was planning to bring my mom up to see me. She had to have a note from her doctor in order to get into the prison with her oxygen unit and wheelchair, so there would be several days before I was to receive my visit.

Then out of the blue I was paged over the prison loudspeaker system to report to the unit counselor’s office. It was after hours and I was kinda curious as to what the heck she could possibly want. My counselor’s name was Ms. Bates. She was a typical “entitled” federal employee who didn’t want to do anything for anybody. Usually she was out on the front unit porch smoking cigarettes all shift. She was so bad the fellas all called her “Ashtray Bates.”

Anyway, when I got there and asked if she needed to see me she said, “Yes, sign this so your mother can be cremated.”

I was blown away! I had just talked to my mom the day before and we were both excited about the upcoming visit. I demanded to know what the hell she was talking about.

“Well,” she said, “Your mother is dead and you’re the oldest living relative in the state, so you have to sign before they can do the cremation. Your brother wants you to sign and I need to be getting out of here.”

I will never forget those words. I refused to sign until I had talked to my brother. That is when I found out my mom had passed; my brother Mike found her when he went to check on her in the morning on his way to work.

Later that week my older brother, Bob and his wife came with Mike to see me there in Coleman for a couple hours. They were in Florida for the service and the spreading of the ashes. I was not allowed to attend.

Ms. Bates didn’t get home till after 10 pm that night, I was just too shook to sign anything and I hope it inconvenienced her. What a way to tell a person that their mother had passed away. Please believe me, some of these people are heartless and the indignities and inhumane treatment that they heap upon men in these places is untellable.

The next day I went to see the chaplain who made the arrangements for me and a few of the brothers I was closest with to hold a special pipe ceremony. After the ceremony I cut off all my hair to be burned in the fire of the next sweat lodge that weekend. Had it not been for the brothers, the sweat lodge, the sacred area and the ability to spend so much time in prayer and contemplation I don’t know if I would have made it thru that time of sorrow and loss. I miss my mom every day and can still hear her talking to me in my head at times.

When All is Said and Done – Still There is Music in My Head

I have always been a music lover, ever since I was a kid. I remember my brother, Bob giving me a couple albums for Christmas one year, maybe 1970 or 71; they were Carol King, Tapestry and Jethro Tull, Aqualung. I won’t lie and say The Tull was my favorite of the 2 because I tended to like the textures and use of the softer voices, and while the rock and hard rock was cool, it was in no way all I liked.

Then I saw Alice Cooper on Don Kirshner’s Rock Concert. It was still a big deal to be up that late and when seeing this crazy man with the snakes and the hanging and the guillotine, all stage show but with music that was really good and really loud, I was hooked. That was the year that I changed, mentally and emotionally. I was 12 years old, entering the rebellion that is puberty. I discovered Led Zeppelin, Black Sabbath, Jimi Hendrix, and the Doobie Brothers, all to the tune of a summer of excitement and desire to be a “rock ‘n roller” and in a band.

Man, I had it bad. I tried guitar, not enough hand dexterity; drums, not enough co-ordination, but once I settled on singing and discovered that it was the lead singers in the bands that generally got all the girls, this became my mission in life. So I began looking for likeminded youngsters to form a band. With what equipment, I don’t know, I didn’t have an amp or a P.A. to sing thru, but that was a small problem for down the road. For several years the hairbrush and the bathroom mirror were my training. Amazingly enough I had a pretty good voice and it got better as I got older. By the time I was 15, singing was definitely my main objective, everything else was secondary to my drive for a band.

So finally I found a few guys that were into it and they had this cool band named “Rasas.” Jiminy, were we bad! We practiced in the drummer’s basement. His parents wouldn’t allow him to move his drum set for some reason. Finally we got our first gig, it was to be a teen dance at the very same middle school I had attended till I got thrown out of the 8th grade. Now it’s roughly 2 years later and I’m no wiser, just a little wilder for real. We had some hokey songs we had halfway learned. Can’t even remember what they were, I think one was called “Midnight Ride,” can’t remember by who. Anyway, we played this dance and the money we got for it went to pay for the P.A. we had rented to play in the first place. The real bonus was being in a high school battle of the bands the next night. I’m sure we didn’t win, but I think we did okay. That was my first taste of really singing in front of people.

Now its 45 years later and I’m still in love with music. I still love to sing and have written many songs over the years. I can’t even remember all the different bands I’ve been in. Some of them were really cruddy, but the memories of a few I truly cherish were definitely record label worthy bands with all original music and songs. The talent in these places you would not believe; the caliber of musicians goes from the 3 chord geniuses to the neo classical heavy metal guitar virtuoso and unknown vocal phenomenon’s such as…you know, me.

Steven “Walks On The Grass” Maisenbacher

Yeah, I’m tooting my own horn, but why not? I’ve been perfecting my vocal abilities for 45 years and I can honestly say I’ve gotten darn good at what I do. I love the upper register vocal gymnastics and can go there with relative ease, all in the vein of Robert Plant, Rob Halford and Geoff Tate, but my wheelhouse is predominantly the Ozzy type stuff with the bluesy rock stuff as a sidecar. I’m not ever gonna stop loving music and just hope to be able to sing as long as I live. After all I’ve still got a lot of, Man, we would have never believed you could sing like that in a million years!!! left to be heard. Got a lot of songs to write too. I don’t know where they all come from. I just know sometimes I can feel ‘em rollin’ around in my brain like a bb in a soup bowl, then I’ll be doing something else and boom! they just appear and I try to get them to paper as fast as possible before they fade like a chimera into oblivion. and there it is, long live rock…

CAMOUFLAGE

Camouflage lyrics E, D, C-sharp, B © Steven Maisenbacher (Walks on the Grass)

How you look, and not with your eyes

Has always been your best disguise

Conclusions drawn without a clue

I’m so blind but that’s nothing new.

With someone else or all alone, invisible yet made of stone – Camouflage

Stealth is what you claim to understand

Your spots have changed or was that the plan

And you say you always know where to begin

Where a friend is foe, and a foe is a friend.

With someone else or all alone, invisible yet made of stone – Camouflage

Shattered truths matter to me; it’s over now so set me free

Pressed to give an afterthought, the price was right for what you bought

As simple as it was for me, I’m not sure I liked what I’d seen

Shatter the glass and break the spell, tell me that this isn’t hell

As you see no one is home, invisible yet made of stone – Camouflage

How you look, and not with your eyes

Has always been your best disguise

Conclusions drawn without a clue

I’m so blind but that’s nothing new

I don’t mind what I’ve never known, invisible but made of stone – Camouflage

I don’t mind what I’ve never known, invisible but made of stone – Camouflage

“The lost home that we are seeking is ourselves; it is the story we carry within our soul.” ~ Michael Meade

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LONG ROAD HOME (2)

By Stephen “Walks On The Grass” Maisenbacher
Photo by Gabriela Palai on Pexels.com

Part 1 – Spiritual Journey Toward Addiction Recovery

Chapter 2

Then Spirit Raises Your Voice

In 2000, three years after I arrived in Phoenix, I paroled to my home. Shortly before my release, my wife of 12 years died of cancer. She was the love of my life and in that frame of mind, I just wasn’t trying to live, looking for any way out short of suicide though that thought had crossed my mind. Immediately I was off and running, a fugitive from the very moment I was released, the drugs and booze all over again and not a second’s shame did I feel or any regret. I was one pitiful, sad man and began robbing again to support my being on the run. Let me tell you, there is nothing romantic about being a wanted man. It’s a world of constant paranoia and worry, not a moment went by that I could relax and be at peace. My soul was screaming out for healing and help from the Creator, but all this was, as I know, my own fault, my own doing.

I caught another set of charges, bank robbery and brandishing a firearm during the commission of a felony. The old pattern was right back again. So I got caught and was sentenced to 27 years for my stupidity. Back to the joint I came, this time with what I figured would be for life since I was 40 at the time and couldn’t imagine sitting here today 21 years later writing this.

My first stop was back to the medium custody level I had released from, a blessing. I had developed some serious health issues and shortly was sent to Butner Medical Center, NC for treatment. It was a very nice spot with the exception that they had a unit dedicated to the sexual offenders program. It was very hard to avoid problems with these men. They all knew that they were “protected” and all they had to do was lodge a complaint, true or unfounded and the staff would get rid of you. I stayed low, under the radar. Then more loss, my sister to cancer really hurt, and then both my dad and step dad; all three passed beyond sorrow within a year’s time. In the spring of 2003, I was well enough to transfer to FCI Edgefield, SC.

When I arrived at Edgefield, lo and behold there was one of the men I knew from my years in Lewisburg Penitentiary and he was the spokesman for the Native American group. Little joe was a good guy. He was able to smooth the path for me into the circle and I began going to the sweat lodge right away.  I must say there were no dry sweats at Edgefield or any of the intensity of that first sweat in Phoenix. That one still is the hottest sweat ceremony I have ever undergone.

I was reasonably content there at Edgefield, but when a notice went out that the staff was taking volunteers to go and open a brand-new facility, FCI Gilmer, West Virginia, I immediately put in for this opportunity. This was the fall of 2003 and when I got there I was amazed how few men were there. At that time only 300 men had been sent to Gilmer and the place was pretty much vacant. They had whole housing units that were not even open yet, and when I arrived at my assigned unit, the officer told me to go find a cell and tell him what number it was.

The next day I went to the chapel to find out where the sweat lodge was and who the pipe carrier was. That’s when I had my first contact with Sister P., a Catholic lay sister serving as the chaplain. The good sister was as outright anti-Native as anyone I have ever met. When I asked about the sweat lodge, a professional would have explained that the place being so new they were still working on meeting our needs. Rather, the tone of her voice openly displayed her distaste, “Oh, we don’t have one of those.” Then I asked about the pipe; got the same answer. So finally I asked about smudging to get all the negativity off the transfer and off of me. Without a word, she went inside the religious services center, locking me out to stand on the front doorstep. A little while later she reappeared with an abalone shell with some sage in it. I asked for matches and a discussion ensued:

“Oh no,” she said, “You can’t light it.”

“But I must light it to have smoke for smudging!”

“Well,  just kind of wave it around, that ought to work.”

“That will not work!”  I handed it back. This was all I could take. “Sister,” I said, “Within six months you will have a lodge for me to have ceremony in.”

A fire was lit that day – the spark to fight for Native rights!

I went back to my housing, straight to my counselor and asked for an administrative remedy form. I filed a grievance against the chaplain and the institution’s administration including the warden and all subordinates, for religious discrimination, religious insensitivity, and unprofessional ethics, all centered around the congressional resolution for religious beliefs and practices by committed offenders within federal custody, as well as the religious land use act, a federal mandate.

Needless to say I was now the anti-star of their new prison and their little prison hierarchy. Finally, after a few strained meetings, the prison administration agreed to let me pick out the area for the sweat lodge next to the recreation yard and measure off the proscribed 25-foot square allotted for the Native American sweat lodge area as well as an additional 25-foot square adjoining for the “other” religious groups that needed space outdoors for the practice of their beliefs – the Wiccans, the Asatru and the Santería – all this in exchange for dismissing my grievance and complaint.

So, being the natural negotiator I am – a basic survival skill in prison – I also got a pipe order and some other things we would need eventually, like a thousand-dollar big drum and sticks, tarps and the promise of willows in the spring so that I could finally build the lodge. Now by this time some other Natives had arrived. They all got together and elected me the spokesman for the Native American group, an undertaking I came to regret, yet on the whole I was good at it and have since been in the same position several times in other facilities.

The important point is that it was necessary to go against the entire administration to get the rights I knew I were guaranteed in the first amendment of the constitution, arguing and claiming all along that just because I was in prison didn’t mean I wasn’t allowed to practice the religious beliefs of my choice.

But the story was not over. In the interceding time we finally got the sweat lodge built but were not allowed to use it due to them needing to build a fence to keep us contained in the area and unable to go between the housing units to the inner area at the front of the facility.

Now let me tell you how I did indeed get the first sweat lodge ceremony, even before they had the fence built. It was the middle of October, I had just gotten out of the hole for a fight I got into with a guy from Ohio over a paltry sum of money he owed me but was not paying up. Anyway, I get out of the hole, and a couple days later we have our outside sponsors from the area come into the prison for a visit in the chapel. While we are there one of the visitors tells me how good it was to see that I was out of the hole. She went on to tell me all the Sister had told her – that I was in the hole for brutally beating a man and that I was a dangerous and violent man.

Yes, I was really mad, but a fight is a fight, not a bloodbath, and while it wasn’t nice it was merely a fight. While I was in the hole, an investigation was going on – a federal investigation since the fight was on federal property. Also, in revealing any information about me without my signed release, the chaplain was in violation of the Freedom of information/right to privacy act.

So once again, I went and got an administrative remedy request and filed a grievance asking for the Sister to be fired and indicted on criminal charges in the matter since it is a criminal violation to breach a federal investigation, or to release information about a federal inmate to the general public unless it is a matter of public information. Boy did that strike a nerve! Once again the administration decided to negotiate. They said they would assign an officer to our area and let the two spiritual advisors and medicine men come in to consecrate the sweat lodge and area and let us have a sweat lodge ceremony if I would dismiss the charges. I agreed, but with the stipulation that the Sister be made to undergo re-training and apologize to me in front of the outside sponsors for her inaccurate and malicious slandering of my name and character.

It was a cold, snowy day in November and the cop assigned to the area that day for the inaugural sweat was stomping his feet and mad as all get out when he was informed that he must stay on the outskirts of the area and not to come near the fire or the firepit while the ceremony was being conducted. Sometimes it’s good to have a bargaining chip. I dismissed that remedy as well. As for Sister P’s apology, well, I never got that, but we got our sweat and she got a weeks training with pay. For the rest of my time at Gilmore, the good Sister took a different tone with me. . . “Mr. Maisenbacher. . . what can I do for you?“

While and during all these skirmishes, somehow word got out that I was battling the federal prison administration. I was asked by a reporter for Vice magazine if I would consider doing an interview over this “struggle” and my fights as a federal prisoner in securing Native American rights while incarcerated. I did this interview in 2005.

DEEP END

What scares you most is the reflection staring back at you.
Always trust your first impression, it’s mostly what you do.
Once inside, feel free to run and hide.
But then you’ll only die tired.

I’m feeling weird today. That’s what the voices say
There’s a crowd in here, I feel I’ve stripped a gear
I’m feeling weird today. That’s what the voices say
There’s a crowd in here, Tell me what I want to hear

(As I)  Dive into the deep end  (The water’s fine)
Echoes of darkness are creeping  (Out of my mind)
Pandora opened the box, tossed the keys, sprung the locks
Dive into the deep end.

The diving board will slip your disk, Take a chance there’s some risk
Ain’t no lifeguard at this site
No running around this pool. You get hurt you’ll look a fool
You can’t tell if it’s wrong or right.

A kaleidoscope picture frame.  Mindless monster you can’t tame
As it rolls around inside your brain  (Ha Ha Ha)
It’s a rare form of suicide, where fantasy and reality soon collide.
The experts all agree that you’re deranged.


Deep End lyrics © Steven Maisenbacher (Walks on the Grass)

“The lost home that we are seeking is ourselves; it is the story we carry within our soul.” ~ Michael Meade

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Horned Winged Serpent

Interpretive Exhibit Piece Designed and Created by Ghost Dancer

Horned Winged Serpent Disk © Ghost Dancer
Creation and Interpretation

Ceremonial Cleansing with Tobacco and Cedar Smudge As the smoke from the smudge passed over the disk, it was charged with the intent of clearing negativity and bringing in positive vibrations with the blessing.

Blessing of the Disk in the Mvskoke Way Invoking the power of the Mother Earth, and all her gifts, I ask the Spirit of Light to guide me. I call upon you to bless this disk so that it helps educate, invigorate, and bring everyone to enjoy, respect, and love the Mvskoke Way.

Respect for the Mvskoke Way One of the core beliefs of the Mvskoke is RESPECT.  Interpreting the disk allows everyone a different view and a different opinion. This is what Mvskoke see in every life. We respect everyone’s point of view, we respect what everyone else believes; there is no wrong belief, because it belongs to you. We are all different, yet we are all the same. So the disk says it is whatever you see it to be!  I am Mvskoke; I live by respect for all life. This beaded disk is my interpretation of ancient symbolism passed down through the ages from the mound builders through Mvskoke traditions.

Blue, the predominant color, symbolizes air and water which are male and female; water being female, air being male; above and below. Blue also represents the direction, north. Balance must be in everything!

Neckpiece made from traditional materials – bone, antler, and shell.

The Red & White Spiral Star:

Spiral Star

The red & white colors represent the red stick & white stick peoples being in balance. We all have the characteristics of both inside of us; we need this to balance ourselves.  

White represents love, peace, learning, calm compromising, mediation, gentleness, compassion, balance, spiritual searching, and enlightenment.

Red represents activity, energy, action, anger/love, loyalty, honor, blood, protectiveness, and duty.

We are all warriors in these matters. Some are more of the character of one than the other and we even fight this battle within ourselves each day. This is why sometimes you are a redstick and sometimes you are a white stick! We need to be both at times as well.  Both are always needed.

The red and white disk has 9 rows representing the 9 Major Clans of the Mvskoke. They are designed a little off because the imperfect work itself represents humility and is meant to show that no one is better than the other and to signify our humbleness to the Creator. The disk sits below the Horned Winged Serpent and the Horned Mask showing that the People look for help and protection by asking the Horned Winged Serpent.

The Horned Winged Serpent

Winged Serpent

The winged Serpent has many colors. Each color represents specific things that are female and male energies:

White symbolizes purity, peace, balance, love, gentleness, song, and spirituality.

Red represents the sun: fire, life, action, protectiveness, and love. 

Then there is the black & red in the serpent’s belly representing life, death, and renewal; the war within ourselves.

The Horned winged serpent has the antlers of the deer representing gentleness with wisdom and awareness. We listen to the deer for they teach us to pay attention, to be cautious, to watch out for dangers and signs and teach us to move gently in this world.  the antlers are a prize for all hunters, whether they are hunting food, plants, stones, minerals, spiritual enlightenment or even love, or people.

The serpent’s wings represent the air and messengers. The eagle feathers in the wings are a symbol of peace and love, loyalty, justice, compassion

Colors and their meanings:

  • The white represents purity, love, balance, and peace.
  • The yellow represents corn mother, sunlight, and life.
  • Red, the color of blood, represents love, action, energy, and life.
  • Black is the color of death, the moon, the spirit trail, and the Milky Way. Even in death success is there in the connection to the earth and defeating the dark side in us.
  • Green is the color of prosperity, success, and fruitfulness.

The horned winged serpent is a good luck medicine to all hunters and those who look for love as well.

So this Horned Wing Serpent is truly one of balance; it represents all these different characters and energies!

But wait! Look at its mouth; its red tongue is sticking out and it is reaching to the Horned Mask!  

The Horned Mask

Horned Mask

So the Horned Winged Serpent is breathing; blowing power into the Horned Mask with all the understandings of balance: peace, love, compassion, humility, sacredness, blood, life, loyalty, sacrifice, discipline, and action. 

Now, look at the mask. Notice the red & white balances; opposites on each side. Notice that it, too, has horns, antlers. The antlers are blended in colors from brown to golden to yellow. Brown is the earth, golden is the sun, corn pollen and honey. Yellow, the corn mother and life itself!

The mask has yellow ears to hear the voice of corn mother. The brown color is bark of the water oak from which the mask is made. Water oak is the tree of life of the people with roots running deep into the Earth Mother.

Notice the gar teeth in the mask. These are the scratching teeth used in rites of passage, discipline, and other ceremonial rites.

Hidden in Plain Sight: Hints on finding some hidden images and symbols within the design: 

  • The disk, itself, has the shape of the human head.
  • Above and below encompasses the mindset of the world and the universe in the mind of the Mvskoke.

In the Clouds:

  • Gift of the serpent breathing life into the horned mask.
  • Tree of life in the clouds
  • The different moons that were so important to us.
  • The states of Florida, Georgia and Alabama all connected touching each other on the left side in the clouds.
  • Mound on the right side in the clouds.
  • See the fluffy rabbit? Rabbit is important to us. He is the trickster in many of our traditional stories.

In the Water:

  • The All Seeing Eye in the water at the bottom on the left.
  • The four directions in the water.
  • A mermaid as people would call them now. We call them, water people.
  • Water serpents
  • The State of Florida

This disk is all about teaching the fundamentals of the Mvskoke Peoples’ way of life, our beliefs, understandings, and our connection to everything in the universe, understanding how much each matters to the other. Whether we are of Mvskoke heritage or not, in order to understand and even experience the true traditions of the People, it is important for us to pay attention to these teachings.

Just as the serpent breathes life into the mask, so do we breathe power into things when we do medicine. Traditionally, a Mvskoke medicine person uses river cane to blow power into the medicine, the patient, or medicine bundles for healing. Even ceremonial drinks, purges, teas, or water, all must have a medicine person blow power, life into them.

Every symbol of our art has meaning and is intended to help us connect to everything and everyone around us; plants, stones, animals, fish, reptiles, winged ones, star people, and Mother Earth. Everything that is in the universe we should feel, reach out to and protect, nourish, love, and enjoy.  We must reach inside of ourselves and touch the inner child, the adolescent, the adult, and the elder. This disk is the past, present, and future of our Sacred Way.

All of these goals and characteristics given to the People are embodied in the concepts of the Four Elements: Fire, Air, Water, and Earth, the Four Directions, Female and Male, and the Four Stages of Life: Infant, Adolescent, Adult, and Elder.

Walk in Beauty and Love Always,

Ghost Dancer

Ghost Dancer, Images and text © April 2015

NOTE: I know many people have different colors that they use to represent different directions, even amongst the Mvskoke people and teachers. All I can use is what I have been taught and shown by my spirit helpers and elders of the Mvskoke who personally taught me.

Heritage Gathering Exhibit
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LONG ROAD HOME

By Stephen “Walks On The Grass” Maisenbacher
Photo by Gabriela Palai on Pexels.com

Part 1 – Spiritual Journey Toward Addiction Recovery

Chapter 1

Broken

I was born broken. Simple fact of the matter is my biological mother was a cocaine addict and was using during her pregnancy. Having this be the fact, she gave birth to a baby addicted to cocaine. She was just 19 and she gave me away for adoption at birth.

Thank the Creator for my adoptive parents. My new mom gave me her love and the first milk I ever ingested not long after my birth. It took a full year for me to stop screaming in rage when I was put down, something about being a cokehead infant made me want to be, no demand to be held.

Scoot ahead to kindergarten, I had always been a problem, wandering off in crowds, hiding in department stores, even walked out of a grocery store, got into a lady’s car and told her to take me for a ride. I was sending my mom into fits almost every other hour. Wasn’t a tree I didn’t climb or a neighbor’s house I didn’t just appear in and make myself at home. I guess the scariest thing I did as a toddler was to somehow make my way unseen across a busy highway.  I got through a fence and into a pasture to pet the horsey. The owner spotted something moving in the distance and came running thinking I might be a coyote after his new colt. Good thing he didn’t shoot first.

Related: See “Monsters in the Closet”

Crazy, and all this by 5 years old! It was pretty clear early on there was something wrong with me, so off to doctors I was taken. They pronounced me as “hyperactive.” Imagine that! A brilliant way to just toss some labels around, never solve the problems, or even get to the root of them, but they sure did medicate me, one amphetamine solution after another, years on Ritalin.

Anyway, wasn’t till I was around 10 that they discovered for real that I couldn’t read, so they ran a truck load of aptitude and I.Q. tests, found out I was really, really smart and they couldn’t understand why I didn’t “catch on.”

Then all of a sudden a teacher read an article about this new problem they had discovered, “dyslexia.” So the die was cast, and there it was, so simple, he sees words backwards. Not quite! Leave it to me and my brain to be even stranger than that, where the letters of any word appear jumbled and all mixed up. For instance the word, “house” might be seen by my brain as “usoeh” and so on. Anyway, I was scooted on thru the grades like the medicated, disruptive kid that I was, never doing any homework, never learning to read, and always in trouble, till my early teens when I just quit going to school.

I started skipping and doing drugs, weed, uppers downers, all arounders, anything to help me deal with this hole in me, nothing worked and finally I got to the point where I would try anything to get a thrill that could overpower my brokenness. The more I did the more I was broken.

I am not proud of the way my life went from there, I was a mess, in and out of trouble with the law. From and thru all this drug-induced reckless behavior, I began committing crimes, burglaries, robberies even going so far as to use guns in the robberies. My twisted logic was that if I had a gun it would reduce any chance of resistance from the victims and lessen the chance of my being hurt.  I am able to forgive myself for these horrible acts only because no one was ever physically harmed. If that were not the case I would not ever feel forgiven or cleansed of the bad things I did in the past. I was 26 when I was sent to Leavenworth Penitentiary, Kansas in 1986, for all the crimes I committed. Yes, I have served more than half of my life in prison.

BREATHE

Fate obscure – point deter.
World so strange – down the drain.
Forge your soul – hallowed goal.
Pain inside – run and hide.
I’ll remember you – someone screams at you,
With no respect – heart full of neglect,
Defiant till the end – let the games begin,
So that we can get to the fucking end.

Cut your throat with your own knife,
The destroyer steps into the light.
Doesn’t matter how hard you try,
Fate predisposed so go ahead and cry.

I’ll remember you – someone screams at you,
With no respect – heart full of neglect,
Defiant till the end – let the games begin,
So that we can get to the fucking end.

Breathe – breathe – breathe,
Dammit, just breathe.

Monstrosity is a socialite – why are you so uptight?
Sightless eyes that cannot see – end up where you wanna be.
With the blank stare, with nothing in it for me
Léger de main was your destiny . . .

I remember you – someone screams at you,
With no respect – heart full of neglect,
Defiant till the end – let the games begin,
When – will – it . . . begin.

Breathe – breathe – breathe – just breathe.

Breathe © Steven "Walks on the Grass" Maisenbacher 

 

Prison is where all the positive things that happened to and for me occurred. It was there I first realized that I wanted to learn so much more than the little I knew. Eventually, when at my lowest, I decided I would not be broken anymore; I would teach myself to read.  I started using my mind to learn all the letters and the words they could spell. I learned how to solve the puzzles of words and developed my own little method for reading that works for me. After that I became a voracious reader, demolishing anything I could get my eyes on. I read westerns, adventures, the classics, history, and there I found my way to books on Native cultures, ways and ceremonies. The more I learned the more I wanted to know and books were not enough.

I had always known I had some Native blood, and however slight or whatever the quantum is, I have always in my soul and heart considered myself Native. But therein lies the problem for a lot of “breeds” in prison. The full-bloods sometimes feel ill will towards us, like just because of skin color or blood quantum we are not worthy of being allowed to participate or learn. Yet as I discovered, there are ample times and people who are full-blood who disagree with this prejudicial treatment or belief.  

Fortunately some even came into the prisons to teach and volunteer their time to participate and help the brothers in these iron houses grow and change. Being a wild youngster fresh in the federal system I was fortunate in that one of my first cell mates was a full-blood Oglala Sioux. Mark had been a sun dancer. He was a very spiritual brother who fell into a bad situation and was serving a life sentence. He had been working on change for the several decades he had already served and was the first elder to take time with me, explain about the cleansing ceremony and the sweat lodge. He felt it wasn’t the color of the skin, but the color of the heart that matters, and to this day, I still remember Mark’s kindness. He has long since passed on and I know Creator is well pleased with him.

Then I was transferred to Lewisburg Penitentiary, Pennsylvania. There were some really good brothers there and I tied in with them. However the prison administration at that time had a policy that you had to be medically cleared by the doctor in order to sweat.  I had COPD and asthma, so medical would not approve me to go into the sweat lodge. This was disappointing and a block to any spiritual growth, but my thirst for knowledge was ravenous and I continued my study and desire to know more. I read as many Native culture and spirituality books as I could: Bury My Heart At Wounded Knee, Black Elk Speaks, Cheyenne Autumn, Hanta Yo, just to name a few.

So years go by, finally I had stayed out of trouble long enough for my security level to go down.  There had been many outside volunteers who gave of their time and came into the prisons for “gatherings” and visits, some very good people who brought both wisdom and camaraderie to us inside these walls. These outside volunteers were like water in a desert to us. They were always welcome and really listened to. I thank them all, those still with us and those who are beyond sorrow, they truly give of themselves and their visits mean the world to us in these iron houses. They are all in my dawn prayers each day.

My lower security “points” meant that after 11 years I was able to go to a medium security facility. My first stop is to be FCI Phoenix, where in 1997 the U.S. Parole Commission recommended that I take the 500-hour residential drug program. When I got to Phoenix, the place was amazingly beautiful to me. I loved the desert and the prison laid out like a college campus.

Note: See Along The Way – “Puddle Stomper Extraordinaire”

Right off I asked a Native I met in the chow hall who the pipe carrier on the yard was in order to make myself known to him. Come to find out I still had a lot to learn. I had no clue about intertribal prejudice and the poor relations amongst some tribes and others. It’s really sad to think that sometimes things can get pretty heated and even set some Natives against other Natives, northern tribes against southern tribes, full bloods against half breeds. It just amazes me that still we can’t get along well in some places and many prisons have two or three groups of Native Americans, full bloods and breeds or northern and southern or whatever, just silly if you ask me. After all, aren’t we all after the same end – a stronger, closer, tighter relationship with the Creator and our spiritual growth?

Anyway things worked themselves out and I found that they didn’t have the medical proscription in this particular prison, so I went to my first real sweat lodge ceremony at the invitation of J.R., the pipe carrier. Let me tell you a bit about this. First off it was May and blazing in the desert this day, so 100 degrees outside. The lodge fills up and I am seated in the south, it’s packed, at least 14 Natives in this lodge, they begin to bring the rocks in. Being of the understanding that things are done in sevens for sweats, I expect 28 rocks to come in the lodge followed by some water from a buffalo horn on the rocks. Imagine my apprehension when the final count was 100 rocks, and the amount of water to be used for the entire first round was about a quart. I did not know this was to be a “dry sweat” in the style of the Apache. Needless to say I came out blistered with the hide all but burnt, but I came out with a sense of clarity and focus that was so intense it was far more powerful than any drug I had ever tried. I knew right then that ceremonies within the Native sweat lodge would be the ultimate source of my healing.

So from Phoenix and my first sweat I was definitely in the “want” for more knowledge and experience. My entire stay in Phoenix was a learning experience, from the several types of sweat lodge ceremonies (dry-wet-healing-general-directional) to big drum etiquette and procedure to the various types of big drum songs and appropriate styles, even some of the traditional dance techniques. All was well and moving on in my world. I was looking forward to being free and reuniting with my family and friends. Little did I know that I was nowhere near ready for the world at all.

“The lost home that we are seeking is ourselves; it is the story we carry within our soul.” ~ Michael Meade

July 20, 2021

Further Insight
Walks’ Page

Claim the Rainbow Spirit Within You

By Ghost Dancer (Sequel to The Universal Rainbow Spirit Within Us)

“When you can love even those who persecute you, hate you, ridicule you, and even want to destroy you, then you truly understand the meaning of love…and you have become love.”

~ Ghost Dancer

Now feel our Creator’s love, spirit inside of you. Let it flow into you, thru and out of you. Let it become one with you. Watch your own spirit energy burst into the real rainbow of colors. For every color of every energy is now radiating within you. See this. Become this and know this.

Now it is time for you to truly learn; truly become what you are meant to be.

Most of you probably have never done spirit travel or an Out of Body Experience (O.B.E.) as scientists refer to them. Sort of like what the government military was doing with a program for people to do remote viewing. My people and ancestors have done this for thousands if not millions of years. Just as we do a twelve count in math because it is so much easier than what is used today.

The number 12 breaks down equally in all geometry, calculus, and even in Astro-physics and Quantum physics too. Take a triangle, it has three sides, now multiply that by 4. Answer twelve. Take a 4-direction symbol; it is divided into 4 triangles,  once again the number 12. Same thing in a medicine wheel. In the top of the inipi (sacred sweat lodge) you have the morning star symbol which is 4 triangles.

Now look inside the palm of each of your hands. You will find triangles in them. And in your fingertips you will see the swirls of the cosmos or infinity. Each of your four fingers have 3 digits; once again 4 x 3 = 12. No, your thumb is not a finger, it is separate. If we put our finger tips together with our elbows at our sides, we shape a triangle as when most people pray.  We have the number twelve in twelve inches makes a foot. A precise measurement that is easily used in larger mathematics. In engineering, architecture, and music the number 12 is vitally important.

Did you know that you have 12 chakras within you? Yes, something that is not normally taught, just as there are even more outside of you. Did you know that you have 12 multi-dimensions, and 12 multi-universes of yourself in each of them? Now let’s multiply 12×12 = 144. Visualize a huge diamond or quartz crystal that has 144 cuts, or facets in it. How beautiful it is and different it is in each facet. See, right now you are a rough diamond, waiting to be opened up to your full beauty. Throughout all of history, the number twelve has been symbolic in all of its uses.

Most folks ignore the power of 12, but it is vitally important to all of us. Stop and think for a minute in your own faith, religious belief and teachings, how many times is the number 12 used? Is it not somewhat amazing that when it comes to say, the elder council of the Islamic faith there are 12 twelve Imams or in Christianity there are 12 apostles? In Greek mythology there are the twelve tasks of Hercules and there are twelve Hebrew tribes. In the Torah, Quran, and Judeo-Christian Bible the number 12 is spoken of, even Aaron’s breast plate has twelve. So do you now think it is important?  If we look closely at many different cultures, we see the number 12 is significant. It is there to teach you; remind you of its mathematical musical vibration. Now, is it so hard for you to reach a cosmic understanding that this is a communication vibration with everything that exists, that has ever existed, that ever will exist?

Now above and centered between your eyes is the third eye or the mind’s eye. Yes, this actually exists and when you open this as a triangle the pressure and count helps to remove blockages you have been programmed to. Yes, as you grew up, you were programmed to think as others wanted you to think. To believe as others wanted you to believe, to act and do what others wanted you to do. Only when you were truly a baby were you actually free to see the world as it was meant for you to see and feel – magical and beautiful, with no hate, no prejudice, no bad, no disrespect. But only love and beauty. You felt everything. Your heart and mind and spirit and body were not tampered with and programmed to be something it was not meant to be.  You could see energy, you could feel energies.

Study the historical records. There have been times when only royalty or priests were able to read. Why? It was a matter of control. People weren’t allowed to know anything other than what those in control wanted them to know and in those cases many false teachings were given. We know people have a tendency to tell you their opinions and understandings, not what is actually the truth. Then when you have people translating the texts of the ancients, they don’t always do it accurately, especially when the teacher(s) has taken the journey long before.

As we know actual languages change and the meaning of words change as slang or bastardization of language happens. Give you an example. In ancient Hebrew, Adam and Eve actually means mankind and womankind. Now what have you been taught it means? So this is just a small sample. Now take this over thousands of words, then stop and think how many translations are actually giving you the wrong message. And just for the record Eve wasn’t the original name used.

Then you have the council of Nicaea, a group of clerics who decided by concensus  which books would be allowed in the whole teachings of a belief and religion.

No I’m not attacking or singling out any belief or religion; I’m just stating facts. Truth is very important, especially within our own selves to be happy, I mean truly happy about who you are, what you are, and what you will become.  I’m speaking directly to your heart, your mind and your spirit. You know the truth when you hear it. Are you truly satisfied with all that you are, all that you could be?

Why do people have these pre-conditioned prejudices towards others? Religious beliefs, races, social status? Where did they come from? You can put children from 1 to 3 years of age together, from totally different races, beliefs, social status, poor, extremely wealthy etc. and they do not have those prejudices? So where does it all come from? Where does ridiculing a poor person, an old or crippled person or one who has mental health diseases or anything that makes them “different” come from? It is programmed into you by others. It does not come from your Creator.

Now let’s get back to the vibrations of the vowels and the language of the stars. In your own way, even if it isn’t your ancestor’s language, I want you to picture each vowel one by one. Starting at the first one, “A”. Hum or sing that vibration of sound for that one particular vowel. Picture it as a gift that is taking away one of your problems, one of your doubts, one of your fears, one of your short comings in your eyes, one of your blockages, one of your prejudices, one of your hates, one of your unknowns (this is something that you don’t know so you are leary of it therefore you stay away from it).

Now once you have done that go to the next vowel and do the same, except let this vowel take away one more different problem, doubt, fear, and so on. Continue until you have done all the vowels. Now for a moment close your eyes and sit still and stop and really notice how you feel. Do you feel heavy or do you feel light? Have any of your problems become less? Any of your doubts or fears faded away?

If your answer is yes, then continue doing this practice regularly until all your worries, problems, doubts, fears are gone. If your answer is no then let’s start right back at the beginning. What I want you to realize is this, you only get out of any effort what you put into it! If you start doing this with the attitude of, Yeah right, like this is really going to help or do something…Well guess what, it isn’t going to help you. Why? Because you have programmed yourself to fail. It is almost like we have to hypnotize ourselves to do certain things. Never do I say I can’t do something. If I say I can’t, then I can’t.

Those who truly know me will tell you that no matter what, even if I have never done something, I will say, Yes! I can do that. No, I’m not lying!  I’m only positive that whatever it is I know I can do it. Maybe not perfectly at first, but I know I will be able to do it and do it very well, because I believe in me! Many people have doubts about themselves. I never doubt myself in any way because if I do, then I have prepared myself to fail.

You are not a failure. You are a blessing and gift to the world, the universe. This is why you are here right now!  This world is going thru awful times but that is because people have lost their belief in themselves and who they truly are. Change has to come! Accept that and accept the fact that you are important in bringing in the new power and beauty into existence. Love is the greatest power there is and when you love everything, truly everything, then you truly understand how beautiful you are. When a person lives in love, real love, they glow with such a brilliant array of colors, yes the colors of the rainbow. Yes claim it! You are a Rainbow Child!

Now whatever belief you practice or claim, call out that you are a child of the  Creator (by whatever name) of your belief. Claim this because you are a child of the light and a child of the stars. When you can love even those who persecute you, hate you, ridicule you, and even want to destroy you, then you truly understand the meaning of love…and you have become love.

Most of you never have been tortured because of your beliefs. Most of you have  never been beaten so bad that you are unrecognizable because of your belief. But what if you were? Would you deny your belief, change your belief just to stop it? What if they locked you up in prison just because of your belief and they tell you the only way you can get out is if you change your belief? What would you do? I truly hope you never have to go thru this. I’m afraid most of you would probably give in.

Why do I say such things? Because I have seen this with my own eyes and yes it is not pretty or even remotely humane. But yes, it still goes on till this very day all over the world. I ask you this just to see what type of mind set you have. Are your beliefs really dedicated and rooted in your heart? I know that if you truly believe what you profess, you will never have any doubts; you would never deny or change your belief no matter what anyone did to you. I sure wouldn’t.

The rainbow children are the ones who will bring about all the positive changes in the energies and vibrations of the planet and the universe, which in turn will have a positive effect on all the multi-universes and dimensions.

 Do your part please!

 Ghost

NOTE: For more than 9 years, Ghost Dancer has been totally disabled, confined to a wheelchair, with ever-diminishing use of his arms and legs. Despite his disabilities, Ghost lives his life in a positive way, his wisdom and courage an inspiration to all who know him. In February 2021, Ghost Dancer miraculously survived two incidents of cardiac arrest. Since then he has felt a calling to write out the messages given his two articles on the Universal Rainbow Spirit. His only concern was that he knew what he had to say would be misconstrued by some. On July 1st, responding to the urgings of his spirit helpers, Ghost made the decision to go ahead. He began the laborious task of pecking each word out with two fingers and completed part 1 on July 3rd. Then on July 4th, Ghost worked all day to complete part 2. Later that Sunday afternoon, he would once again fall into cardiac arrest, not just once, but again in the ambulance. Miraculously, he survived only because medical intervention was immediate. At this posting, Ghost Dancer is still recovering and wearing a heart monitor. He sends his love to all and hopes his message will resonate in a good way with all who read it. E.P.Dixon/Sings Many Songs

Remembering Artist Dee Sturgis

1960 – 2018

Artist Dee Sturgis

As a budding young artist growing up in Montana, Dee Sturgis fell in love with the Native people around her and dreamed of some day painting images of their culture and life ways. Then life took her away from her roots and she found herself raising her family far away in south-east Georgia. Like most people in Georgia, Dee had little knowledge of the generations of Native people who had populated that land before the Creek Indian Removal in 1830.

Then one day a local organization asked Dee if she would do some paintings depicting south Georgia’s Indian people for them. Dee’s response was, “What Indians?” So she did her research and her first painting of a Southeastern Native American, and thus began a whole new focus for Dee’s youthful dream.

Ghost Dancer, Wind Clan, Painting by Dee Sturgis

Ghost Dancer was most honored to be invited to share some of his ideas and create some artwork of his own to be included in a travelling Heritage Gathering Exhibit Dee and some of her friends put together to tell the story of the Creek Indian people of Georgia. Dee in turn honored Ghost in a couple of her paintings. This one tells his story as he might have looked 200 years ago, and recognizes him as a member of the Wind Clan. The painting features some of the animals he would have known and a trail marker tree so realistic people cannot believe it’s a painting.

All through these days,  Dee was already suffering from the illness that would take her life not long after. We thank Dee’s family for this opportunity to honor a great lady who left us too soon. Dee’s talent and determination contributed so much to the remembrance of a people, a way of life and brings honor to the many descendants of those who hid their identity to avoid the removal and have now reclaimed their heritage.

E.P.Dixon

The Universal Rainbow Spirit Within Us

Walk the Sacred Path, by Ghost Dancer
Dream Catcher by Cat Dancing

People have always asked me how I know this or how I know that. Many people have their own religious beliefs and still have missed what is right in their own teachings. Either they have not paid attention or overlooked the true messages, or just ignored them. But the answers to all these things have been right in front of all of us all the time.

Almost every one of you has been to school of some type. And almost every one of you know the ABC’s of your own language, race or culture, or I would hope you do, for if you don’t you truly are missing out on part of your own self. To know who we are is to know where we came from, the history of our own people, relatives and ancestors.

No matter what you may think, your ancestors have mixed races, cultures, even belief systems. So don’t even begin to try to say you are true blooded of only one blood, race or culture, for you are planting a lie within your own true existence. 

Every single race has been mixed with others. It is the only way to prevent inbreeding and destroying the very essence of your beautiful spirit. If you are alive today, you are a Rainbow Child, meaning one of many colors, races, cultures, and religious beliefs. When you fully come to accept that and embrace that, then and only then, will you begin to glow with beauty as you light up your inner spirit and begin to grow to your highest gifts and abilities.

Since human life began, every continent has been invaded, conquered, captives taken, prisoners taken, women raped, people enslaved and mixed with children from all over the world.  You can keep lying to yourself or you can accept that you are a product of all and have the gifts of all inside of you. This makes you gifted in knowledge, strength, connected to all things, all  forms of light, sound, energy, and matter. Claim what you are and begin to see the true rainbow of energy that is within you.

Every one of you has heard songs, music, learned your ABC’s of whatever language you speak or is the language of your ancestors.  Every one of you has seen movies, videos or read a book so probably you all have heard, seen, or read  about chants, hymns, music, and vocables. Now the language of the stars called elati  by my Ani-Yun-Wi-Ya ancestors is a vibration chant. There are no words as you know them in the chant, vocables, hymns, or humming. Elati is the spiritual vibration of sounds that change our body’s vibration to harmonize with everything in our world, our multi-dimensions, multi-universes throughout all time and space. Making us completely one!

Elati opens portals, doorways, holes through obstructions you have blocking you. These sounds are found in all languages. Try using only the sounds of the vowels, starting at the first and going thru each one, feeling it resonate deeply, down in your heart center in a beautiful sounding way. Now try visualizing your body become a rainbow of energy, touching everything and feeling everything in existence. Continue repeatedly resonating these sounds until your whole being is vibrating with this beautiful energy.

Now some of you are doubting this because of your personal beliefs. But would you not want me to open your eyes to the fullness of your own beliefs? I don’t care what you believe be it Judaism, Christian, Islam, Buddhism, Hinduism, Shintoism, Tantric, Brahmanism, Paganism, Taoism, or whatever, every one of these use sounds such as chants, music, instruments, prayer songs, and prayers that are vocalized and repeated in harmonized rhythms.

Getting down to basics, all of these are actually following the ancient ways and practices of changing the vibrations of our body’s energies to receive and send messages, by raising and lowering the sounds, by slowing or speeding up the sounds we are altering the effects it has on us and around us.

Here is an example: You are in a room full of people, there is stress and tension in the air, then someone does something or says something that is funny. Then laughter erupts and it changes the energy in the room. (The reverse could also happen).

You go to a dance, the band is playing but no one is dancing. Then one or two go to the dance floor and begin to dance in rhythm to the music and sounds. Then others will follow. The next thing you know the dance floor is full of people all dancing and feeling good and happy.

Now just for a quick test: start vocalizing the vowel sounds in your language, make the sound of each one of them, drawing them out to become a song blending into each other. Feel the vibration of each sound as it flows from you. Feel it flow around you and back into you. Do this over and over until you have changed the sound to a perfect harmony within you.  Obviously you can feel the vibrations no matter how hard you may have resisted. These sounds you are making are known as the language of the stars. These harmonized vibrations travel and can go through anything, just as your energy does. Just as each color has its own energy, vibration and gifts. All of these are inside of you.

Each one of your organs has its own distinct coloration. This is why we all have different colored skin, eyes, hair, etc. because we incorporate and represent all of the rainbow. Not one is any better or more important than the other. Neither is any one entitled to any more than any other or over any other. We all are one. When we all remember we are actually one with each other and all things, then an only then will we be able to do all the wonderful things we are supposed to.

Now just imagine for a second what the world would be like if everyone respected one another, loved one another, helped one another, and all life. If we did the world would be such a beautiful place. There would be no hate, no racism, no jealousy, no greed, no bigotry, no religious persecution or religious discrimination. Can you imagine a world with no egotism, no poverty, no homelessness, no starvation or hunger, no sickness or disease and no lust? Remember love and having sex is not the same as lust; lust is plainly a desire for something beyond the control or equal balance with another. Lust invades the energies and bodies of others and usually is associated with forcefulness.

With all this gone only beauty, peace, harmony and love would exist everywhere and within everything and it would radiate this beautiful energy throughout all the universe, and multi-universes and dimensions. People would be able to levitate and travel instantly to wherever they chose to go. Not with any machines or devices but by pure vibration and harmonized energy. See, sound is an energy also and it has many different uses.

In order to develop your harmony, first you must cleanse yourself physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. Now I know some – well honestly a whole bunch of you – think,  “Oh, I’m cleaned, I don’t do this or I don’t do that. Well let’s test your cleanliness and see if you are pure love:

1. What do you watch and like the most on TV?

2. What do you watch on videos?  

3. What type of music videos do you watch?

4. Do you ever watch the news?

5. What do you eat?

6. How often do you purge your body? (Use something to totally empty your bowels and bladder till you are empty, and make you throw up until you are empty)

7. How often do you completely fast after purging your body?  

8. How often do you exercise, run, move, or do something that will burn up all your energy and cause you to sweat from all your pores?

9. After sweating, do you then purify yourself with incenses or wash your body pure natural spring water?

10. How often do you listen to arguments, get involved in other people’s business, gossip, or take someone ‘s side in a family or friend’s dispute or domestic dispute?

11. How often do you pray?

12. How often do you pray for everyone else and only pray for yourself last?

13. How often are you around others who are arguing, cursing, hating, in a bad mood, prejudiced, or just plain mean?

These are just a few things to be considering when you think how clean you are. Now I can tell some of you are thinking you are protected because someone else went through something all for me or my beliefs say I don’t have to do that or this has all been done for me. So please, please tell me what religious belief that is because I have studied them all intensely and not one I can find says these things.

Now you may have been told that, or you may have thought that or interpreted some holy scripture that way, but NO! None of them say that! You must go to whatever name you use for the Creator and follow the all the teachings, guidelines, laws, and principles you find there. You cannot just pick and choose which ones you want to use and ignore the rest.

So now stop and look at how you answered each of the questions. Yeah you need to clean yourself up. We all do – every one of us – physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually! And we must do this regularly if we are to stay in tune, in harmony with all that we are. No, I’m not trying to pick on anyone; what I’m trying to do is open up your eyes, your heart, your spirit to all that you truly can be.

There are no short cuts. There is no way you can bring yourself into the balance of pure love except step by step. If you think you can take some short cut then you better think again. Let’s look at some of those who went the long way: Moses, Jacob, Isaiah, Job, Enoch, Buddha, Mohamed, Jesus, Shun Yen,  just to name a few. Now do you think you are better than they are at this? I don’t think so. Read your teachings again.

Empty out all you have that is blocking you, holding you back – your past, your doubts, fears, disappointments; become pure love, pure beauty, feel this inside and grow. Breathe in the essence of love from all of Mother Earth. Feel her heart become one with you. Let your spirit reach out to all the tall people, the trees, see them in your mind and send them your love. Thank them for all they do for you. Mean what you say, speak it with your heart, your mind and your voice even.

Reach out in the same way to all the plants, rocks, birds, animals, insects, fish, all mammals, reptiles; send your heart out to all the human beings in your area, picture them in your mind; you know their faces, maybe even know their names. Now reach down and feel the earth beneath you. Feel the soil, the minerals, the magnetic fields of energy that flow. Let the energy flow into you and thru you and out of you. Reach deeper till you get to the mantle, the core, the heartbeat pulsing in the lava. Feel the intensity of energy.

Step into the circle of Mother, as her child and meet Mother Earth, the inner world of the first children, the second children, the third children, fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh and now you. Feel their love, their energy. Thank them for all they do and for being part of you. Yes each of them is connected to you. Everything you are reaching out to is connected to you; they are part of your own spirit, energy, body, and blood.

Now do the same when you come back to the surface and reach up to the sky and clouds. Thank them for all they do for you. Yes the clouds do many different things; they shield you from harmful rays, energy bursts; they bring rain, winds, seasons and a cooling effect so you and everyone doesn’t burn up.

Now push further out, step outside Mother Earth into space, into the world we all come from. For you see we all are made up of star dust. Yes particles of all these different things make up all of our bodies which hold our true spirits inside. And yes, we all came from out here too. Turn around now and view Mother Earth from space, looking back at her. See the beautiful hues of color, see the sunlight, star light gleaming everywhere. Feel the energetic pull of the sun and the flow of the cosmos as the energy flows thru you. Feel the beauty of life, of creation as stars, comets, moons, planets, universes all open up to you.   They have awaited for your essence of spirit to come to receive your birthright. Every planet, every star, moon, comet, asteroid beckons to you.

The ether of the heavens and galaxies call you to the center of the universe. Feel the power of all this; let it flow into you and thru you and out again. Now remember every color represents certain things. Mixtures of colors do too for they are colors as well. Colors like you have never seen come before your eyes. Feel them all, become one with them all. Accept the gifts and knowledge that comes. Hear the voice of our Creator echoing in your mind and heart.

Walk in Beauty, Ghost  July 3, 2021

Ghost Dancer – Known by thousands as a wise elder, teacher, artist, and keeper of the old ways, Ghost has a deep understanding of the spiritual and cultural traditions of the Southeastern Native Peoples, as well as the Lakota Sioux and other western tribal People. From his world, WALK THE SACRED PATH honors his Muskogee and Ani-Yun-Wiya ancestors. Ghost has a lifetime of fascinating stories to tell and thoughts to share that will expand your world as well.