About Me: "Wakiya" (Thunder)
I am a Tribal, Musician, Writer, Artist. I try to walk the path and have studied the tradition of the "Wisdom keepers" like Lame Deer, Fools Crow, Black Elk, and Rolling Thunder from the tribes of this region, and Lao Tzu, Buddha, Bodhidharma, Yeshua, and other enlightened ones from the many various tribes of the earth. I understand the worlds religions and belief systems, and realize the division this can cause by the lack of understanding the "real message" from the Masters. My intention, and life's prayer is to try to live in harmony with Grandmother Earth, Grandfather sky, (Nature) and "the spirit that moves in all things," and help in any way I can to build a bridge between all men and tribes so they can walk their path in a manner that will benefit themselves, the Earth and others. I open up, and ask Great Spirit, The creator, The Tao, The Universe, to work and direct healing and positive energy through me by different means, like the Flute, drums, Words, Prayer, and Touch. I try to be loving and accept others from the heart, and practice forgiveness. I honor all people, the winged one's, and four legged ones considering us all equal, not one being above another. I honor the bountiful Harvest from Mother earth in the form of plant life, water, air and herbs which sustain our oneness with her. I pray all tribes should re-unite as one, so we may protect the planet and live in harmony. Within you, without you.

Mitakuye Oyasin
( all my relations)


The universe

The universe is forever out of our control.
Trying to dominate it goes against the Tao.

1 comment:

i_sandman2001 said...

"The universe is forever out of our control. Trying to dominate it goes against the Tao" (Wakiya). That, I believe, Wakiya, is reverence for Life. It is like a poem when the poet stops whatever he or she was doing, and writes. It cannot be controlled because it controls the poet and she or he knows, KNOWS, in such a Way that only the Way is in the Way that the poet MUST write the poem or die. Die? Die. . . no matter how long the poet who is denied the Tao stays alive--no life will be lived anymore or not until the poet writes the poem. Blessed be. Love and reverence, Arrow