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2012年9月12日 星期三

A Fire Tender's Lesson, Part 4 - Becoming Ready to Die


At that first Sundance, I was thrust into an alternate reality. A brutal reality. The three counties that compose the Pine Ridge Reservation are the poorest in the nation. At that time, in 1991, the average life expectancy of a resident on the "Rez" was 48 years. Infant mortality was at a rate six times higher than the general US population. Alcoholism and drug use and gunplay and car wrecks were rampant. All this in America's Heartland!

More than 85% of the population had nothing to do with the traditional ways. They were oriented to Christianity, and had more than a little fear of the things they surmised were going on "up there." I was told, if I were to come out to Sundance, to be prepared to die.

They weren't kidding, and it was not necessarily about Sundance itself. It was about being on the rez. And being white -- wascicu (wa-si-chu) -- didn't really help, either. In their home town, Wanbli, one of the families ran out of toilet paper. I volunteered to walk across the street to their Auntie's to borrow some. It was night. Six of the kids in the house gathered at the door to watch. When I asked what's up? the eldest replied, "Don't you know you're going to get killed?"

During one six-week stretch while I was on Pine Ridge, which has a population of about 20,000, there was one violent death each week.

The Chips' home (inherited from Woptura) was about 640 acres on the prairie adjacent to the Dakota Badlands. A log cabin built in the 1920s, a clapboard house with ceremony room, and a trailer were the family homes. Water came from a persnickety hand pump, outhouses were the only privies, and the roads were no more than splintered and sliced asphalt, if they weren't gravel and dirt. Winters were brutal, insulation was sheets of plastic stapled to the inside of the one-layer thick walls, and the diet was primarily canned and highly processed goods called "commodities" dispensed by the government.

Seeing the Government's hand in everything, I have since come to believe that advancing "civilization" is not interested in killing off the Lakota people (or Native Americans for that matter) it is hell-bent on eradicating their way of being, which is all about a heart-consciousness that acknowledges everything is alive and all is to be shared.

With the nearest hospital over 100 miles away in Rapid City, I, as a former paramedic knew that I could easily die from something as simple as a badly broken leg. Perhaps the strongest prayers of my life were prayed when I first understood the danger of the environment I was in. Actually, they were prayed specifically while being a passenger in Charles' 1978 Olds while racing through the partially paved, curved roads of the Badlands at 100 MPH riding on tires of half-rubber and half-splintered steel-radial belts!

Arriving about two weeks before the Sundance started, I was asked to tend fire for it with a few other people. That meant hauling firewood out of the creeks with no more than a 1960s vintage pick-up, and chain-sawing up to twelve cords for use during the ceremony. Every inch of my exposed body (and in the oppressive heat, I could not cover what I needed to) was peppered with itchy, swollen bites from thumbnail-sized mosquito. I would usually stay at least another two weeks afterwards, half in recovery, half in clean-up and all about connection with the land -- so much a part of the people, and now, inseparable from my heart.

Sundance lasts for an "official" period of nine days. Four days of this are preparation, during which time there is a least one Inipi per day. One day is called "Tree Day," on which a tree is sacrificed and placed at the center of the arbor where the ceremony occurs. The following four days are the Sundance itself, which involves three Inipis or more each day. Along with traipsing far into the hills and gathering hundreds of Stone People for the lodges, felling as many as 100 pine trees (sustainably!) to re-build the arbor which had a diameter of about 200 feet, and setting up camp sites, gathering sage, and tending fire for Inipis, I was working 14-hour days.

I had been given no more spiritual direction than "Live your life as a prayer as you build a place for the people." I had to thrust myself into a world where my primary relationship was with Nature. And Nature told me what to do as it placed me closer and closer to the thin line between this world and that which lies beyond death. As guideline, I used the principles I learned while tending fire for the Inipi, and just expanded them to fit the size of accommodating around fifty dancers and 100 supporters.

My solace was found by constantly turning to my relationship with my Creator for strength and understanding, and the clarity to help others. There was so much to do, and the resources so limited. By actively giving thanks for everything that was around me that I did have, I found that I received many "you're welcomes" from nature that were both deeply personal and objectively obvious.

Over the course of a number of visits to the rez over the next few years, I began taking on the responsibilities of Chief Tender for the Sundance. Charles Chips, the Spiritual Intercessor, prepared all aspects of the ceremony itself, including choosing and working with the Dancers. I was responsible for everything that had to do with the physical aspects of the ceremony and grounds and, since I was very familiar with the property, mobilizing and working with the supporters who arrived to assist the Dancers.

In this role, I passed on the little I knew about moving people to "one mind, one heart." What I did grasp was intention and an almost incredible amount of respect for whatever snippets of ancient tradition we were taught. Amongst the most powerful experiences of my life were the times when I got to go along to sacrifice a buffalo (tatanka) for the people's feast at the end of the dance. These were no hunting trips. At the time, the sacrifice of buffalo was just beginning to be allowed again. They were almost eerie interplays between species who understood their roles in the creation. I also began to understand how sacred space works: what you put in is what you take out.

I found that no matter how daunting the size of the event, no matter how complex the details, or foreign the language or tradition, what allows things to happen in a good way--what provides a home for Spirit and fosters the miracles happening in any spiritual orientation--is the focused intent of the people who participate in it to channel something Greater than themselves toward the well-being of others. Out of that, the participants create the result.

I found that regardless of the knowledge or use of the ancient prayers, as long as the intent of the participants was clearly for the greater good, that is exactly what happens.

Next:...and then, there's Ego.




Russ Reina shares his experience in the healing arts (beginning 1968) through http://www.firetender.org. It is a potent resource to help you deepen your abilities in connection. Its sacred space includes high-quality art, articles, books (Moments in the Death of a Flesh Mechanic...a healer's rebirth), counseling, workshops and music.

(Permission is granted to reprint this article, unedited, provided proper attribution is made and the signature line -- the above resource paragraph -- is kept intact)





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2012年7月12日 星期四

A Fire Tender's Lesson, Part 4 - Becoming Ready to Die


At that first Sundance, I was thrust into an alternate reality. A brutal reality. The three counties that compose the Pine Ridge Reservation are the poorest in the nation. At that time, in 1991, the average life expectancy of a resident on the "Rez" was 48 years. Infant mortality was at a rate six times higher than the general US population. Alcoholism and drug use and gunplay and car wrecks were rampant. All this in America's Heartland!

More than 85% of the population had nothing to do with the traditional ways. They were oriented to Christianity, and had more than a little fear of the things they surmised were going on "up there." I was told, if I were to come out to Sundance, to be prepared to die.

They weren't kidding, and it was not necessarily about Sundance itself. It was about being on the rez. And being white -- wascicu (wa-si-chu) -- didn't really help, either. In their home town, Wanbli, one of the families ran out of toilet paper. I volunteered to walk across the street to their Auntie's to borrow some. It was night. Six of the kids in the house gathered at the door to watch. When I asked what's up? the eldest replied, "Don't you know you're going to get killed?"

During one six-week stretch while I was on Pine Ridge, which has a population of about 20,000, there was one violent death each week.

The Chips' home (inherited from Woptura) was about 640 acres on the prairie adjacent to the Dakota Badlands. A log cabin built in the 1920s, a clapboard house with ceremony room, and a trailer were the family homes. Water came from a persnickety hand pump, outhouses were the only privies, and the roads were no more than splintered and sliced asphalt, if they weren't gravel and dirt. Winters were brutal, insulation was sheets of plastic stapled to the inside of the one-layer thick walls, and the diet was primarily canned and highly processed goods called "commodities" dispensed by the government.

Seeing the Government's hand in everything, I have since come to believe that advancing "civilization" is not interested in killing off the Lakota people (or Native Americans for that matter) it is hell-bent on eradicating their way of being, which is all about a heart-consciousness that acknowledges everything is alive and all is to be shared.

With the nearest hospital over 100 miles away in Rapid City, I, as a former paramedic knew that I could easily die from something as simple as a badly broken leg. Perhaps the strongest prayers of my life were prayed when I first understood the danger of the environment I was in. Actually, they were prayed specifically while being a passenger in Charles' 1978 Olds while racing through the partially paved, curved roads of the Badlands at 100 MPH riding on tires of half-rubber and half-splintered steel-radial belts!

Arriving about two weeks before the Sundance started, I was asked to tend fire for it with a few other people. That meant hauling firewood out of the creeks with no more than a 1960s vintage pick-up, and chain-sawing up to twelve cords for use during the ceremony. Every inch of my exposed body (and in the oppressive heat, I could not cover what I needed to) was peppered with itchy, swollen bites from thumbnail-sized mosquito. I would usually stay at least another two weeks afterwards, half in recovery, half in clean-up and all about connection with the land -- so much a part of the people, and now, inseparable from my heart.

Sundance lasts for an "official" period of nine days. Four days of this are preparation, during which time there is a least one Inipi per day. One day is called "Tree Day," on which a tree is sacrificed and placed at the center of the arbor where the ceremony occurs. The following four days are the Sundance itself, which involves three Inipis or more each day. Along with traipsing far into the hills and gathering hundreds of Stone People for the lodges, felling as many as 100 pine trees (sustainably!) to re-build the arbor which had a diameter of about 200 feet, and setting up camp sites, gathering sage, and tending fire for Inipis, I was working 14-hour days.

I had been given no more spiritual direction than "Live your life as a prayer as you build a place for the people." I had to thrust myself into a world where my primary relationship was with Nature. And Nature told me what to do as it placed me closer and closer to the thin line between this world and that which lies beyond death. As guideline, I used the principles I learned while tending fire for the Inipi, and just expanded them to fit the size of accommodating around fifty dancers and 100 supporters.

My solace was found by constantly turning to my relationship with my Creator for strength and understanding, and the clarity to help others. There was so much to do, and the resources so limited. By actively giving thanks for everything that was around me that I did have, I found that I received many "you're welcomes" from nature that were both deeply personal and objectively obvious.

Over the course of a number of visits to the rez over the next few years, I began taking on the responsibilities of Chief Tender for the Sundance. Charles Chips, the Spiritual Intercessor, prepared all aspects of the ceremony itself, including choosing and working with the Dancers. I was responsible for everything that had to do with the physical aspects of the ceremony and grounds and, since I was very familiar with the property, mobilizing and working with the supporters who arrived to assist the Dancers.

In this role, I passed on the little I knew about moving people to "one mind, one heart." What I did grasp was intention and an almost incredible amount of respect for whatever snippets of ancient tradition we were taught. Amongst the most powerful experiences of my life were the times when I got to go along to sacrifice a buffalo (tatanka) for the people's feast at the end of the dance. These were no hunting trips. At the time, the sacrifice of buffalo was just beginning to be allowed again. They were almost eerie interplays between species who understood their roles in the creation. I also began to understand how sacred space works: what you put in is what you take out.

I found that no matter how daunting the size of the event, no matter how complex the details, or foreign the language or tradition, what allows things to happen in a good way--what provides a home for Spirit and fosters the miracles happening in any spiritual orientation--is the focused intent of the people who participate in it to channel something Greater than themselves toward the well-being of others. Out of that, the participants create the result.

I found that regardless of the knowledge or use of the ancient prayers, as long as the intent of the participants was clearly for the greater good, that is exactly what happens.

Next:...and then, there's Ego.




Russ Reina shares his experience in the healing arts (beginning 1968) through http://www.firetender.org. It is a potent resource to help you deepen your abilities in connection. Its sacred space includes high-quality art, articles, books (Moments in the Death of a Flesh Mechanic...a healer's rebirth), counseling, workshops and music.

(Permission is granted to reprint this article, unedited, provided proper attribution is made and the signature line -- the above resource paragraph -- is kept intact)





This post was made using the Auto Blogging Software from WebMagnates.org This line will not appear when posts are made after activating the software to full version.

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2012年2月25日 星期六

The Art of Noshido, Lesson Two - How to Handle an Assailant Who Tries to Raise Your Blood Pressure


The Corn Refiners Association in the United States, via an ad campaign costing millions of dollars, spread the FALSE DATUM that fructose, and especially high fructose corn syrup (HFCS), is little other than a harmless snack. I'm sure this was unintentional of course.

They could not be expected to know and their researchers and scientists could not be expected to know that one of their highly profitable products is bad for people and, even if they knew, one cannot expect them to concern themselves unduly with the welfare of their fellow man when so much money is at stake.

I'm sure nobody lied but even if they had, who can blame them? The health of millions of fellow Americans and their children is hardly their concern when the wealth of dozens of Americans is at stake.

Of course, now that the cat is out of the bag and a mountain of evidence has accumulated that fructose and the dreaded high fructose corn syrup HFCS are harmful to human health, I'm sure honest policy-makers will be only too happy to amend their conduct knowing that if they do not, the rest of us will know exactly where they stand vis a vis a straight choice between our welfare and their profits.

Fructose is a form of sugar found in, among other things, sweetened soft drinks and junk food. A diet high in it evidently raises blood pressure in men. Two recent studies gave evidence that it helps raise blood pressure and another study gave strong indications that people who eat junk foods and drink sweetened soft drinks at night may gain weight faster than those who don't.

Fructose is far from the only thing that raises blood pressure of course (for instance the shenanigans of the food industry on occasion raises mine) but if you suffer from high blood pressure or wish not to contract high blood pressure, you may want to consider not poisoning yourself with fructose or its alias HFCS.

While it is perfectly true that fructose is a sugar found in fruit, the amounts contained therein are so small that eating moderate amounts of fruit will not be a problem fructose-wise for most people. When the fruit is eaten, its fibre will to some degree moderate the release of fructose into your bloodstream, as well as moderate insulin release. Berries, especially blueberries, raspberries and cranberries are some of the healthiest fruits, rich in anti-oxidants, and they have relatively low sugar content.

However, you should know that it IS possible to intake too much fructose from fruit sources, particularly if you consume a lot of fruit juice. Fruit juice contains very little fibre and about eight full teaspoons of sugar per eight-ounce glass. This fructose is processed rapidly into fat, promoting obesity and other health problems and when consumed in liquid forms like fruit juice or soda, that metabolic effect is magnified. Our bodies were not evolved to obtain their calories via the process of drinking them - we were after all evolved as water drinkers primarily - although I do know some people I would swear were evolved as beer drinkers.

A word of caution should be inserted here: please note that if you suffer from diabetes or obesity then you definitely need to take care as regards fruit consumption and must get professional advice.

It is a fact of life that all sugar can cause health problems and fructose is actually the worst of them. Some of the negative effects of overdosing the body on sugars - with fructose the worst culprit - are diabetes, obesity, metabolic syndrome, increased LDL (bad) cholesterol levels and liver disease.

And now we can add high blood pressure to the list, a serious health concern that can cause heart disease and increase your risk of having a stroke.

One of the cheapest ways of obtaining fructose is to extract it from corn and this cheapness of production has led to it becoming more popular. (Now there's a surprise!)

Until about thirty to forty years ago, the main source of sugar was sucrose, derived from sugar beet or sugar cane but the use of sugar extracted from corn - especially HFCS - in the diet has since exploded.

It increased one hundred-fold (!) between 1970 and 2005 and is now present in a frightening number and variety of products, especially processed foods, and it is the sweetener used in most soft drinks.

Soft drinks are now the leading source of calories in America and in countries with similarly bad dietary habits, such as Great Britain it is no doubt a commensurately similar tale of woe.

This has become so bad that nine percent of the average dietary energy intake in the United States for instance now comes from fructose - that's equivalent to nearly one tenth of EVERY meal you eat comprising a big lump of pure sugar!

There is little wonder then that we have an epidemic of obesity and all the health problems that derive from it. The only wonder is that so little is done about it by those in government who are supposed to protect the citizenry from being sold poisons disguised as food; although to be fair the citizenry (or at least those who don't want to be fat or unhealthy) could do much to protect itself. It could after all simply stop buying products containing fructose or stop voting for politicians who neglect the best interests of the people.

After all, if some group had placed in the water supply some chemical that caused a similar amount of harm, we would have seen it as the action of an enemy of the nation. Tobacco products containing a poison of comparable magnitude are obliged at least to carry a health warning and the freedom of tobacco manufacturers to advertise their toxic products is at least constrained. Why not the same rules where fructose and HFCS are concerned?

It is worth also mentioning briefly that obesity is not the only health problem associated with the nutrient-free pure calorie bomb known as HFCS. It also damages organs such as the liver and pancreas and leads to bone loss, anemia and the aforementioned heart problems, among others.

Enough said?

Okay so you are probably thinking (I hope) about now that you would like to avoid fructose.

Well, reflect that the average American drinks an estimated 60 gallons (sic) of soda every year, while one extra can of it per day can increase your weight by as much as 15 extra pounds in a year. You have nothing to lose except your pounds!!

Since HFCS is also present in a vast number of processed foods, you can do yourself a massive favor in one relatively easy stroke by ceasing to eat all fast foods or consume soft drinks that contain sugar. To be able to avoid fructose completely, except the very small amount ingested by eating moderate and sensible amounts of fruit, (which is ideal), you will need to switch if you can to whole foods. Go easy too on the fruit juices and start drinking lots of good old H20 or green tea.

How thoroughly you can do this depends on your determination to get well and your circumstances, but as a general rule, the more you can achieve in this direction, the more your health will benefit.

If you really must violate the sacred warrior code of noshi-do and devour processed food from time to time, just check out the label before you buy and skip anything with HFCS in it.

And don't be fooled by the artificial sweeteners either. They are even worse for you than HFCS! So diet sodas are out too.

Fortunately, fructose does not appear to be as hard to kick as coffee or nicotine, so anyone of even average willpower should be able to manage it with only a modicum of floor pacing and carpet chewing.

Come to think of it, chewing the carpet probably does you less damage than fructose....




For more information and free books, go to http://www.wellhealthy.org now





This post was made using the Auto Blogging Software from WebMagnates.org This line will not appear when posts are made after activating the software to full version.

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2012年2月5日 星期日

A Fire Tender's Lesson, Part 4 - Becoming Ready to Die


At that first Sundance, I was thrust into an alternate reality. A brutal reality. The three counties that compose the Pine Ridge Reservation are the poorest in the nation. At that time, in 1991, the average life expectancy of a resident on the "Rez" was 48 years. Infant mortality was at a rate six times higher than the general US population. Alcoholism and drug use and gunplay and car wrecks were rampant. All this in America's Heartland!

More than 85% of the population had nothing to do with the traditional ways. They were oriented to Christianity, and had more than a little fear of the things they surmised were going on "up there." I was told, if I were to come out to Sundance, to be prepared to die.

They weren't kidding, and it was not necessarily about Sundance itself. It was about being on the rez. And being white -- wascicu (wa-si-chu) -- didn't really help, either. In their home town, Wanbli, one of the families ran out of toilet paper. I volunteered to walk across the street to their Auntie's to borrow some. It was night. Six of the kids in the house gathered at the door to watch. When I asked what's up? the eldest replied, "Don't you know you're going to get killed?"

During one six-week stretch while I was on Pine Ridge, which has a population of about 20,000, there was one violent death each week.

The Chips' home (inherited from Woptura) was about 640 acres on the prairie adjacent to the Dakota Badlands. A log cabin built in the 1920s, a clapboard house with ceremony room, and a trailer were the family homes. Water came from a persnickety hand pump, outhouses were the only privies, and the roads were no more than splintered and sliced asphalt, if they weren't gravel and dirt. Winters were brutal, insulation was sheets of plastic stapled to the inside of the one-layer thick walls, and the diet was primarily canned and highly processed goods called "commodities" dispensed by the government.

Seeing the Government's hand in everything, I have since come to believe that advancing "civilization" is not interested in killing off the Lakota people (or Native Americans for that matter) it is hell-bent on eradicating their way of being, which is all about a heart-consciousness that acknowledges everything is alive and all is to be shared.

With the nearest hospital over 100 miles away in Rapid City, I, as a former paramedic knew that I could easily die from something as simple as a badly broken leg. Perhaps the strongest prayers of my life were prayed when I first understood the danger of the environment I was in. Actually, they were prayed specifically while being a passenger in Charles' 1978 Olds while racing through the partially paved, curved roads of the Badlands at 100 MPH riding on tires of half-rubber and half-splintered steel-radial belts!

Arriving about two weeks before the Sundance started, I was asked to tend fire for it with a few other people. That meant hauling firewood out of the creeks with no more than a 1960s vintage pick-up, and chain-sawing up to twelve cords for use during the ceremony. Every inch of my exposed body (and in the oppresive heat, I could not cover what I needed to) was peppered with itchy, swollen bites from thumbnail-sized mosquitos. I would usually stay at least another two weeks afterwards, half in recovery, half in clean-up and all about connection with the land -- so much a part of the people, and now, inseperable from my heart.

Sundance lasts for an "official" period of nine days. Four days of this are preparation, during which time there is a least one Inipi per day. One day is called "Tree Day," on which a tree is sacrificed and placed at the center of the arbor where the ceremony occurs. The following four days are the Sundance itself, which involves three Inipis or more each day. Along with traipsing far into the hills and gathering hundreds of Stone People for the lodges, felling as many as 100 pine trees (sustainably!) to re-build the arbor which had a diameter of about 200 feet, and setting up camp sites, gathering sage, and tending fire for Inipis, I was working 14-hour days.

I had been given no more spiritual direction than "Live your life as a prayer as you build a place for the people." I had to thrust myself into a world where my primary relationship was with Nature. And Nature told me what to do as it placed me closer and closer to the thin line between this world and that which lies beyond death. As guideline, I used the principles I learned while tending fire for the Inipi, and just expanded them to fit the size of accommodating around fifty dancers and 100 supporters.

My solace was found by constantly turning to my relationship with my Creator for strength and understanding, and the clarity to help others. There was so much to do, and the resources so limited. By actively giving thanks for everything that was around me that I did have, I found that I received many "you're welcomes" from nature that were both deeply personal and objectively obvious.

Over the course of a number of visits to the rez over the next few years, I began taking on the responsibilities of Chief Tender for the Sundance. Charles Chips, the Spiritual Intercessor, prepared all aspects of the ceremony itself, including choosing and working with the Dancers. I was responsible for everything that had to do with the physical aspects of the ceremony and grounds and, since I was very familiar with the property, mobilizing and working with the supporters who arrived to assist the Dancers.

In this role, I passed on the little I knew about moving people to "one mind, one heart." What I did grasp was intention and an almost incredible amount of respect for whatever snippets of ancient tradition we were taught. Amongst the most powerful experiences of my life were the times when I got to go along to sacrifice a buffalo (tatanka) for the people's feast at the end of the dance. These were no hunting trips. At the time, the sacrifice of buffalo was just beginning to be allowed again. They were almost eerie interplays between species who understood their roles in the creation. I also began to understand how sacred space works: what you put in is what you take out.

I found that no matter how daunting the size of the event, no matter how complex the details, or foreign the language or tradition, what allows things to happen in a good way--what provides a home for Spirit and fosters the miracles happening in any spiritual orientation--is the focused intent of the people who participate in it to channel something Greater than themselves toward the well-being of others. Out of that, the participants create the result.

I found that regardless of the knowledge or use of the ancient prayers, as long as the intent of the participants was clearly for the greater good, that is exactly what happens.

Next:...and then, there's Ego.




Russ Reina shares his experience in the healing arts (beginning 1968) through http://firetender.org. It is a potent resource to help you deepen your abilities in connection. Its sacred space includes high-quality art, articles, books (Moments in the Death of a Flesh Mechanic...a healer's rebirth), counseling, workshops and music.

(Permission is granted to reprint this article, unedited, provided proper attribution is made and the signature line -- the above resource paragraph -- is kept intact)





This post was made using the Auto Blogging Software from WebMagnates.org This line will not appear when posts are made after activating the software to full version.

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