I’m getting the urge to maybe start writing. I don’t know exactly what, but something having to do with simplicity and my spiritual ideas. I don’t know who I would write for, am I thinking magazine articles, a book, or just more entries in my blog, which no one reads? Or newspaper articles, or other people’s websites? It’s not clear yet, so I’ll just wait and let the urge deepen if it wants to, until it can tell me what I'm meant to do.

I continue to inhabit twin realities these days. They run side by side crisscrossing and intermingling. I’m starting to think I’m haunted, or crazy, or both. Last Saturday it got so intense for a while that I truly began to question my sanity. I kept seeing things that aren’t there. Native American things. Even the letters on the pages of the books I read morph into Native American imagery. Images get layered over even the words in this book.

 

I know how crazy this sounds. Yet, I’m fairly certain I’m not crazy. And in the past week or so, in some of the books I’ve been reading, there have been statements that kind of lead me to believe that I actually might be haunted. Not in a spooky, scary, negative way. Just in a persistent way, to get my attention. By the spirits of Native Americans who died because of the white invasion. I think they think there’s something I can do to raise consciousness among us white folks. I think that’s where this urge to write is coming from.

In one of the books, and I’ll quote it when I find it, the author spoke about how Chief Seattle said hosts of Native American spirits would haunt the streets of the future city (Seattle I guess) trying to trigger maybe a remembrance and a return to balance. And then in another part of the same book, I think (I’ve been reading too many books lately) the author spoke about a prison guard who had witnessed a pipe ceremony. There were two guards, one who did and one who didn’t look at the pipe once it was assembled. Since the pipe is one of their holiest objects, it’s inappropriate for non-natives to look at it. The author spoke of his wish that the man who looked would be haunted from that moment on, not in a malicious way, but just that he would be gripped by a need to learn more, to see the reality of the native experience.

So, somehow I think I’ve got myself haunted. And that’s OK, as long as it doesn’t overwhelm me and send me into true madness. For now, I guess I’ll just wait and see how this develops and what it leads me to do.

Writing would be a good vocation for me. I’m just not very confident in my skills as a writer. Or in the self discipline that would be required. But I do think I have things to say that are worth sharing. So maybe…who knows?