What A Crow Nation Indian Chief Taught Me
It was a hot summer day as I left the city driving home. The day's stress usually melted away during my drive to the country, which was as close as 30-45 minutes down the main highway, and then, roads with beautiful vistas. The last few days, in fact weeks, had been stress filled. I was avid in the art of denial, but the wall, that builds, is temporary. Imagine that, I was eager about denial, it gave way to all kinds of reckless behavior. It took me a very long time to learn that the only way out of pain, was through, and not around it. Stress and anxiety are killers. They chip away at you slowly, and stress reactions, whether they be self medicating, to control anxiety, sucking down carbs, or curling up in bed, are the easy fixes, that we pay for eventually. Depression generally precedes anxiety making it all the worse.
Did you ever have to light a fire under 2 neurons to get a thought going? Stress can do that, especially when it yields anxiety. This was one of those days. Some of my LJ friends get why I have depression and anxiety, but I'll add that things at home were not domestically pleasant. I did nearly all the grocery shopping and cooking but that and other contributions were never enough. I also raised my four children like I was raised. My oldest John, Jr. is in heaven now, but we keep in touch. That's a whole other story, that goes on til this day. Back then, the situation at home was stressing them as well at times, and that was in my stress bag of rocks also, but I often thought of ways to help them. I would die for my kids and grandkids.
I noticed a yard sale while going down one of those vista filled roads. I passed it by, but then felt the urge to turn around and go back. I'm glad I did. It was a nifty little 3 acre farmstead with a brick ranch, and a rather large barn type garage. There were items outside but the garage revealed more. It was quite pleasant in there with some flute music playing, very clean, and an adjoining workshop tied it all together nicely. I was looking at some beautifully crafted flutes, when a man approached from the work shop and greeted me. He looked as though his rugged appearance was well earned, as though he was chiseled from granite, but soft spoken words revealed something more. I was commenting on the flutes which were crafted and finished. "Wow, these are nice!" I picked one up and he said, "I make them. That music is from them being played by my wife, daughter and I. I sell the tapes we made if you want one." It was 1982, and the $4 price on the tapes was well worth paying. The flutes, roughly 2 feet long +/- were priced at $80. My mortgage was $226/mo, and I just couldn't afford one. I didn't want to haggle over something, that a man had put his heart and soul into.
"Well, I know I'll take a tape. Stress has been kicking me lately real hard." He looked at me with a sincere expression. "I know about stress, I'm a Vietnam veteran." PTSD had just been accepted as a diagnosis in 1980, and he revealed that he had it. I revealed that I was a veteran also as we walked outside. "Thanks for the tape, I know it will help." He then said, "let's talk further about stress."
Outside he said, "let me teach you something, trust me, you will learn." I didn't trust many men at all, and still don't. There was something to learn here, I thought, besides I was packing a sidearm. Nervously, I said, "O.K." He then explained that he was a Chief of the Crow Indian Nation, that those flutes were made exactly as his forefathers made them, he was passing that down to his daughter, but what he was about to teach me from his ancestors, was old and revered. "I want you to stand here, look around and listen, noting what you hear and making a note of the number of things your hearing senses." I did that, and after about 2 minutes he said, "O.K., tell me what you heard." I noted the occasional car passing, general noises from the shop and house, and that was about it; roughly about 4 or 5 things. "O.K., he said. Now I want you to calm yourself, close your eyes and listen again." I noted the cars, previous noises, but then also, insects, the wind, a chime, different birds, and ruffled leaves. He said, "now open your eyes, and tell me what you heard." When I did that he said, "First you listened with your eyes open, and they kept from you, the sounds of nature all around us. Then you listened with your spirit, and nothing was kept from you. Let me tell you that your eyes will deceive you, but your spirit will not, and as you do this more, there will be more sounds. Do this often, and grow your spirit, while meditating on the good things around you." We parted, and I was delighted that nature was there all along, and it was I, for a time, that had abandoned her.
Did you ever have to light a fire under 2 neurons to get a thought going? Stress can do that, especially when it yields anxiety. This was one of those days. Some of my LJ friends get why I have depression and anxiety, but I'll add that things at home were not domestically pleasant. I did nearly all the grocery shopping and cooking but that and other contributions were never enough. I also raised my four children like I was raised. My oldest John, Jr. is in heaven now, but we keep in touch. That's a whole other story, that goes on til this day. Back then, the situation at home was stressing them as well at times, and that was in my stress bag of rocks also, but I often thought of ways to help them. I would die for my kids and grandkids.
I noticed a yard sale while going down one of those vista filled roads. I passed it by, but then felt the urge to turn around and go back. I'm glad I did. It was a nifty little 3 acre farmstead with a brick ranch, and a rather large barn type garage. There were items outside but the garage revealed more. It was quite pleasant in there with some flute music playing, very clean, and an adjoining workshop tied it all together nicely. I was looking at some beautifully crafted flutes, when a man approached from the work shop and greeted me. He looked as though his rugged appearance was well earned, as though he was chiseled from granite, but soft spoken words revealed something more. I was commenting on the flutes which were crafted and finished. "Wow, these are nice!" I picked one up and he said, "I make them. That music is from them being played by my wife, daughter and I. I sell the tapes we made if you want one." It was 1982, and the $4 price on the tapes was well worth paying. The flutes, roughly 2 feet long +/- were priced at $80. My mortgage was $226/mo, and I just couldn't afford one. I didn't want to haggle over something, that a man had put his heart and soul into.
"Well, I know I'll take a tape. Stress has been kicking me lately real hard." He looked at me with a sincere expression. "I know about stress, I'm a Vietnam veteran." PTSD had just been accepted as a diagnosis in 1980, and he revealed that he had it. I revealed that I was a veteran also as we walked outside. "Thanks for the tape, I know it will help." He then said, "let's talk further about stress."
Outside he said, "let me teach you something, trust me, you will learn." I didn't trust many men at all, and still don't. There was something to learn here, I thought, besides I was packing a sidearm. Nervously, I said, "O.K." He then explained that he was a Chief of the Crow Indian Nation, that those flutes were made exactly as his forefathers made them, he was passing that down to his daughter, but what he was about to teach me from his ancestors, was old and revered. "I want you to stand here, look around and listen, noting what you hear and making a note of the number of things your hearing senses." I did that, and after about 2 minutes he said, "O.K., tell me what you heard." I noted the occasional car passing, general noises from the shop and house, and that was about it; roughly about 4 or 5 things. "O.K., he said. Now I want you to calm yourself, close your eyes and listen again." I noted the cars, previous noises, but then also, insects, the wind, a chime, different birds, and ruffled leaves. He said, "now open your eyes, and tell me what you heard." When I did that he said, "First you listened with your eyes open, and they kept from you, the sounds of nature all around us. Then you listened with your spirit, and nothing was kept from you. Let me tell you that your eyes will deceive you, but your spirit will not, and as you do this more, there will be more sounds. Do this often, and grow your spirit, while meditating on the good things around you." We parted, and I was delighted that nature was there all along, and it was I, for a time, that had abandoned her.