Journey to the Ancestors

December 18, 2019.  Bears Ears National Monument. Three years old. Created by leaders of five tribes with ancestral connections to that land—the Bears Ears Inter-Tribal coalition—then signed into existence by President Obama. The tribes’ intention? To teach European Americans how First Peoples sustained themselves for centuries while living in harmony with the natural environment, to educate us in the use of herbs found in Bears Ears, to have their ancestral homes better protected from industrial rape and vandalism, and to open these sacred lands to all. 

 Bears Ears. Ancestral home to these and other First Nations. An olive branch held out to the descendants of people who tortured, enslaved, killed, and robbed natural resources from their ancestors.

 One year after the creation of Bears Ears, President Trump reduced its size by 85%. Since then, leases have been sold by the Bureau of Land Management to interests intent upon ripping out vast swaths of juniper and piñon forest using tractors with chains hooked between them; intent upon drilling for oil and digging for uranium and other natural resources at a time of a declining extraction economy; intent upon destroying the cliff dwellings, petroglyphs and remains of what had been their homes; intent upon grazing cattle on land that could never be profitable for such a venture, destroying in the process a crucial homeland for the wild creatures who reside there. 

 Why? Because the First Nations constitute, have always constituted, a threat to the insatiable desire for domination that is our European legacy. Because they represent a humane alternative to that legacy. Because they possess certain formidable capacities, remnants from the civilization that preceded this one. Because the powers that be are unconsciously terrified of those capacities and of the ancestral capacities held within Bears Ears. Because Bears Ears stirs long-dormant aspects of the European American being, arousing within ourselves other possibilities for the world we inhabit—full, not broken—all inclusive, not divisive.

 Today, I awaken in the still-dark morning at the season of the longest nights, known as the Quiet Time by the Pueblo peoples, when the ancestors can most easily be accessed. One year to the day that David Carlson and I set out for Bears Ears, with the intention of somehow helping to keep this National Monument intact and alive. 

 If the predator people succeed, the loss for humanity will be beyond our imagining—a  timeless strand broken, connection to the ways of the ancients, broken. We human beings hold the choice as to its future. But how to proceed?

 As dawn slowly makes its way, I go within to search the darkness at my core, the black hole within me. I allow my attention to drop down from my head. Breathe down to that darkness, waiting, until inspiration arrives. The response I receive is that I am obliged to to bring to light any and all strands of predator desire that still govern me, to feel these desires for what they are—poison—to then let go of them and begin to feel free at last. Such is my choice—no fight with the other side, no politics necessary—but rather to purify, once and for all, the tyranny that has been my part in the exploration of materiality, an exploration now complete. The choice is mine, ours. Our world will change once there is no longer a fight.

 Outside, morning has fully arrived. I recall the simplicity in the desert landscape that is Bears Ears, as revealed through scarcity, where each twisted juniper, each plant, indeed every living being, can be perceived with a clarity, as displayed throughout the slickrock canyons that are home to the ancestors, where the old ones lived and their essence remains. The scarcity creates a unique beauty, accentuated by the brilliant blue sky. The interconnectedness of all living beings is easier to grasp in such an environment, the world of the seen and the unseen closer to being within my grasp, especially at this time of year. Bears Ears is another world and yet it is our world.

 I have been working for years to connect with my personal ancestors in the here and now, not as an idea. At Bears Ears, I made the same effort and found the ancestors within those canyons willing to open to me and connect with me. They are here. 

 The Pueblo peoples, as well as many other First Nations peoples, regard death in a different manner than European Americans. They perceive death as an aspect of an unbroken strand wherein Indians maintain contact with their ancestors. In so doing, the purpose of the people, their reason for being alive, becomes more clear. 

 Lest we forget, the ancestors of Bears Ears were human beings. We are human beings. Therefore, they are the ancestors of us all. If we destroy Bears Ears, we're destroying our connection to our ancestors on this continent. We need those ancestors to help us make the changes we must make if we are to return to our full human capacity. We can turn to them for guidance. If we feel stuck, for example, they can support us in moving forward. Whenever we think we are alone on this path, they will assure us we're not.

 Thank you, David Carlson, for journeying out with me once again into the sanity that is wildness, and for your splendid photos of Bears Ears that grace these pages.