It Ain’t Easy Being Indian – May 2019

photo of ricey wild

By Ricey Wild

So, I sat outside for the first time on a late April night after this past brutal and seemingly unending winter season in Rezberry. It felt so good to be out and not in pain from the freezing cold. However, something was different that night and it took me a minute to identify what it was. Then came the moment I realized that the Tree Frogs are back and sounding in rare snagging harmony. After so long of being stuck inside my house, I am thrilled to hear from my neighbors. I listened to their longing, hungry love songs for quite a while before I felt a jarring, exciting sensation sneak up on me. Again, it was a familiar feeling but only…could it be?

And then… Moosie came walking out of the woods like he was dancing out of nature’s cathedral. The trees bent down to acknowledge his presence and I swooned in lonesome, unresolved love and rage. Moosie has come to get me, finally, after having given up on all the other Indian Princesses through time who are not me. I lay in a puddle of despair and here comes this arrogant man who wants to put me back together again.

LOL! You gotta appreciate his intention anyways. Moosie forgot he was the main person who got me to this miserable place. Well, I’m not one to hold grudges, especially when a man smells so good – of cedar, of sage and sweetgrass with a hint of smoky bison venison. Purrr!!! I wanted to vent all my frustrations out in the first seconds, but he just held me like I was a lynx kitten. I retracted my claws and rapier tongue. I had to let it go.
Not for long though, Moosie has some ‘splainin’ to do as to his tardy return to my bingo lady arms. Without a word spoken between us I reconstituted some blueberries, got out the non-GMO pancake mix and made coffee mud. After his last belch he looked me in my eyes, all three of them and said, “My bad”.

Wow. Just wow. Yet I understand. We are all on our own life journey through the ages. It is a blessing to see and feel all over again our past loved ones.

Wordless, we kept company just enjoying one another’s presence and remembering our past. Some things unsaid are better left to the heart, talking seems to twist our words. But then…well we hadda use our voices to communicate too and that’s when life got real. Like, “what do you have left on your per cap debit card? Do you ‘qualify’ for commodities?” And, “I need some commod cheese, just go get some and don’t come home without it. You like eating too, ennit?”

It is precisely that type of reality I have no time for. Moosie knows that he is always welcome and beloved, but I don’t have the time or resources for simple dalliances. I can be poor all on my own. Then he went to get his parfleche and in it was his wandering soul. He gave it to me. What a sweet thing to do. I, after denying this shining gift by acting up and down in denial that anyone could love me like this, was horrible.

Hearts are precious, tender creatures and I, being so depressed and suspicious for decades, fought against what I need most.

I wanna say how I felt was self-loathing or something like that, but not me. My being has been broken, shattered, and put back together in a travesty of who I used to be in this and past existences. I am a mixed-media piece of humanity and I own it now. I have become art in my own right.

For this I thank Moosie, for knowing I needed him right now. Like former hibernating tree frogs, I am free to sing my own snagging songs – which you will never hear but you may feel them. My life is small and constrained but I now feel the tractor beam has lifted and I get to move along. I am grateful for my Moosie, for reminding me I’m special and have a lot of love to share yet.

We are now burrowed together for the moment and do not have any thing to worry about. See you next life.

My nephew Jerone has been mentioned many times here. It is his birthday May 3rd and yet I can still feel holding him for the first time as an infant in 1985. We all adored him even though he became a little terror who put gray hair on all our heads. He messaged me recently and reminded me of who I am. For that I am grateful and blessed. I love you my Son.

You saved this ole carcass of mine for what I don’t know. I love you.