I have always felt…less than, Native Americans. Once when I was in Sedona, we were taken to a medicine wheel. Before we got there, however, I looked over the cliff where it was said that many natives lost their lives, an as I looked down, I saw construction. Human bulldozer dump truck construction. I began to cry. The others had gone ahead and I stood there and cried. The tears flowed in the thousands. I was crying for so many, so many. The pain was shared but was not mine. I think I was channeling tears.
Years later, I was led by Spirit to go to South Dakota, to the Wind Caves. It was the Wind that led the way, in a $15,000 Four Winds Rv that I had no want of buying. Everything was wind, it came at me from all directions until I realized it was a message, so we bought that RV I didn’t want and I told my husband it was a private, special prayer trip I was taking, alone, with my drivers. He was fine with that, but our next trip was one he chose and we went together, Arkansas crystal digging.
MY ROAD TRIP (OLD BLOG)
I’m off to the wild blue yonder. The wind has called me to a place no white human should go. I hear the call. Don’t know how long we’ll be gone, and for those of you who are worried, I have a driver…two, in fact. I may have access to post from the road, and I may not. We shall see. Have ya figured it out yet where I’m going? Try the most sacred of sacred of the United States. Don’t like that word…..ok….how bout HOLY. America’s Holy Land. Blessings to all. Yes, the hermit is leaving the building. See ya!
The BLACK HILLS and BEAR BUTTE…
Well, I’m back, way early from my trip. It didn’t go well. Because of my fears, I asked some friends to drive me, so that I could do whatever it was that God/Spirit wanted of me. It turned out that my needs, fears and desires were not of importance to the people driving my vehicle. There were however, a few moments of goodness and spirituality. The first morning we woke up in SOUTH DAKOTA, at the Wind Cave National Park, a lone buffalo showed himself to me, just a few hundred feet from where I was sitting. Then he rolled in the dirt, like a horse. I felt so honored. I’d been told that the buffalo were elsewhere in the park, that I’d have to drive to. I was the only one to see him. A few days later, we drove the wildlife loop and saw many, many buffalo. I could have walked up and touched them, they were so close. It’s hard to explain the feeling I had when I saw them. I had goosebumps. I felt a special connection to 3 of them. One a female, the other 2 males, I believe. The sadness in their eyes is enough to haunt a person forever.
Later, at Bear Butte, up near Sturgis, we saw about 10 more buffalo. They say they can only keep around 10, and would either give the extras back to Wind Cave, or sell them. We stayed at the Bear Butte camping area, right by the lake, that I understand is about to be given up by the fish and wildlife, to be owned by the state…not good. The lake is nearly empty, but had been completely dry, so any water was good. Why not repair the artesian well, to generate more water? If the lake stays dry, the animals and birds will go. If the animals and birds go, we all lose. Anyway, all my concentration seemed to be going towards not offending the Native Americans. I knew, that to them, I shouldn’t be there, camping. For me, though, the only thing I really did know that God/Spirit wanted from me, was that I was to pray on that mountain. So, do as God calls? Or offend the Natives. I obeyed God.
I left my camera in the RV, as not to offend, and proceeded up the mountain. I had thought it was the muscle disease in my legs that would be a problem, but it turned out that wasn’t my biggest problem. About ¼ to 1/3 of the way up, fear gripped me when I saw the next set of stairs, which went straight up. I sat on the mountain to gather my courage. I stood up and approached those stairs and had a panic attack. My panic attacks have changed lately. This was just like the one in Ocala, when I was running for the inhaler for someone with asthma, during the fire. My lungs, simply closed. Needless to say, I sat back down on my mountain perch. When passing climbers told me that to my right was an easier route, I tried it twice. The second time, getting way further up, till once again, the stairs in front of me looked terrifying. The girls were nearly to the top and tried to motion me on, which I did, and I had another panic attack. My bad legs were wobbling and shaking, vertigo had set in, and I was spinning. The wind was blowing as well. That was it for me. I somehow made it back to my perch and cried.
By then, I was now afraid to go down, and was frozen on the sacred mountain. I felt so stupid, so cowardly. But, I was here for a purpose. So, I would get the tears under control, train my mind to prayer and pray I did. I never let my personal feelings seep into the prayers. When I felt angry with myself again, I would simply stop praying until I had gotten myself under control again. You see, I was not there to feel sorry for myself. I was there to feel sorrow for everything, but me. To pray for everything, but me. But, at one point, I asked God/Spirit to forgive me, for not making it to the top and to try to find a way to be ok with where I was on the mountain. A few minutes later, I realized…then prayed to try to find a way for ME to be ok with where I was on the mountain. I realized that it would do no good for God to forgive me, if I didn’t forgive me. The moment I finished that prayer, I opened my eyes, and staring up at me was an Indian arrowhead. I took that as a yes, you are ok exactly where you are.
Then I was even more free with my prayers, and a few prayer-filled hours later was able to get the courage to take that first step down, and then the next and the next, until I arrived safely at the bottom. So, if the prayer on the sacred mountain was the only thing I was called to do, I did it. As time goes by I may realize something else was accomplished, thru hindsight, who knows. It’s hard to believe that I was called a thousand miles to pray. But I guess that’s exactly what happened.
Sincerely, Sheri Rose 8/31/07
P.S. I had absolutely NO intention of seeing the travesty of Mt. Rushmore, but upon being given directions to a sacred place, ended up going past it after all. The audacity. Definitely falls under the category of…WHAT WERE THEY THINKING???
That, my friends only describes the day at the mountain. It was a long long trip. The girls took it upon themselves to try to cure me of all my fears. They misunderstood the purpose of the trip being that of a spiritual nature and they took me up and down roads I said no to. They went too fast in the rain and laughed at me when I said I was scared. They went on a mountain road with the word …?.or whatever and I said absolutely not, something like, buzzards cliff, no, not really but you get my point. They went. They didn’t drive through the tunnel correctly and scraped the awning right off the RV. The curves were so sharp and so steep, that I lay in the aisle, in fetal position, screaming Jesus, Jesus.
Not only that, but they were a gay couple and they argued the whole time. It got so bad that I was trying to figure out a way to fly home from Oklahoma, when I found a dead butterfly. I kept going.
I was reminded of this story tonight by a Face book “Like“ on my farm page. As I went to their page to see who they were, the cover photo was of prayer flags. That took me back to the mountain. The mountain, which my friend joked about tonight after I posted the blog. IN the blog, I spoke of going to check on the mysterious lump in the field, in case it was a goat, and it was a molehill. My friend made a quip and said, a molehill out of a mountain. I said, yes, must check the mountain. The mountain with prayer flags everywhere you looked, tied to shrubs, bushes and trees. Then I saw the prayer flags on this Facebook page. See, all connected.
Ok, once again the student. The person I was just referring to, commented on my post and said they were led to my blog by S Rain. Singing Rain is my daughters name on WordPress. They then “liked” my Facebook farm page. From there is when I went to see who they were (the prayer flags)and recognized the name as the same as the commenter here. I sent a friend request and we are now friends. However, my daughter does not know this name, nor is it in her list of friends. My daughter does not go by the name S Rain on face book. She says she may know you by another name? If you can clarify this for me, I’d appreciate it. And if that isn’t strange enough, I’ve got an Ellen DeGeneres thing going on that I don’t know if it’s a hoax/scam or if it’s real. I usually have life a bit more under control than this. Maybe that’s the point. Not sure. A friend(the very same girl from the trip, the driver) said today, “Something’s going on in the ethers“. I said, “Yes, you feel it too?”, she said “Very much so“! Love you Amasa.
And the comment I referred to above, is important, or to me, anyway. Here is my response.
Your sobriety day is 444. This is my 44th post. A few seconds ago, there were 44 comments on my blog. And, also a few seconds ago, I was reading a blog, called Doodle #4 and I liked it. I was the 44th like. Hmmm, geeee, ya think? I love it. I absolutely love this way of living, of thinking, of being. I am in love with my life. That is a remarkable statement considering my background. Your background must have been heavy as well or you wouldn’t be going to AA.. Do you know that SingingRain is my daughter? I am glad to meet you my friend. Apparently we are meant to share things. I don’t beleive in coincidence either and when you followed me, I tried to find you and I still don’t know if I did, (I did tonight, also a few seconds ago) but if I had found you then, there wouldn’t be all these 444444s goin on. Angels. They are Angels. At least that’s what I have told myself. It makes me happy thinking that, so I choose to think it. I have no proof, just well, feeling.
It finally reached 100 degrees here. When it’s that hot, very little stirs. The goats and all the other animals stay in the shade, laying down the entire day, and I stay inside except to check and to feed. All of that has been done, with no real issues. Mostly did stuff on the computer.
So, now you can see that when I say I follow the Whisper,…….I mean it. The Rv cost $15,000 and the trip itself was over $2,000. Seventeen thousand dollars to go pray on a mountain. I thought there would be more, I thought we’d go to reservations, that’s what I meant by no white human should go. However, the Girls were not into the idea. Love you Girls! Sorry, just telling the story. Some day, I will be in the presence of a Native American, or of many Native Americans and I will feel that I am their equal. Someday. Signing off at Curly Locks Ranch.